So in the previous session, when i read my 'reflections,' Ish observed that it was the first time i had not carried the session with me. I told her that i was trying to do what she had asked me to. Recording my feelings every time i checked weight. That was there, she said, but it was like i was refusing to think of the session during the week. That was true. Usually the week goes by with me thinking of all that was said in the previous session and consciously devoting time to it. This time, for the first time, i had not done that. That session was lost.
I sensed that it was a very difficult area - my eating and i was resisting it with all my might. Yet, when Ish asked me about my sister, before thinking of her, i thought if Ish was giving up on my eating problem. I have come to realize that there is a small part of me who is also seeking help, so that one was kind of waving at me saying 'don't abandon me!'
I comforted myself saying it could be that there were thin threads connecting my sister problem with my food problem or that Ish intended to come back to it later.
But i should say that the session that followed after i was asked to speak of my sister shocked the hell out of me. I had given up on our relationship. Repeated attempts at mending it had failed. There was absolutely no hope. Sister expected me to apologise for calling her abusive and a lot many names. I wasn't going to do that. In spite of all that, i didn't think that it was useless talking about her. She has been a big part of me. It can't be erased. It saddens me deeply that things have come to this, a break up, a thing that we had vowed to resist as children. Well, i was a child. She was a teenager. We have seven years between us - the reason why i think i am an unplanned pregnancy.
So i told Ish that i always felt that Mother loved me more than she loved Sister. I was angry with Mother for that. I wanted her to love Sister the same. I felt guilty for the things only i got to have because by the time my childhood started, the financial condition of the family had improved a bit. So Sister never got to attend painting classes or chess coaching or basketball training, violin lessons and join Guides (girl scouts - be prepared). I got to do all that and like a spoiled brat i gave up all of those things midway. I had the luxury to, when she never even had the opportunity. I still feel bad and guilty about it all.
Ish asked me how i felt about Sister now. I have always been scared of her. I am still scared of her. I told Ish that. She asked me to draw what i felt about Sister now. Some photographs from the past came to my mind. One in which we are on our haunches, looking at the camera, in that house where Father died. One in which i still had curly hair and was pinching the life out of Sister's face. I was a baby. But all that was long ago. I gave up trying to draw one of those photographs. Ish said that she would like it that i drew what i felt now, about Sister. Without thinking much, i drew a wrist that was being slit with a knife. I clarified that it Sister who was cutting my wrist to help me.
I have no idea why i drew that. It scares me shitless that that is what i drew. It was so violent. Where on earth did that come from! It wasn't that bad, Ish said. I had made clear that Sister was helping me die. It could be that, i thought that the way in which Sister was helping me wasn't very good. I don't know. No one is helping anyone now and i am still wondering why my picture turned out to be like that.
In fact, i now think that i need to take care of Sister and help her. I only wanted to be like her when i was little. Not just little. Till the time i questioned her some years ago. Now i want to help her and only want to be like inji now. Maybe that's why Sister doesn't like me or inji anymore. Sigh.
I remember recalling instances where she joined forces with mother to turn against me. The one time i opened the door for her and she slapped me out of worry. I had not been answering calls and it had led both Mother and her to believe that i was dead.
The time when Sister and Mother read my diary and found out about my not so nice relationships. That's putting it mildly. It was all abusive but my family didn't know how to deal with it. I have no anger or hard feelings against them for that. That's how bad we are, as a race in dealing with abuse and trauma. Even the best people have no clue how to handle it.
I remember that as the first time i ever found courage to hit Sister back. I had done that with Mother a lot, perhaps because the frequency was much higher, of her beating me. But with Sister i could never even imagine raising my hand on her. I never understood why she sided up with Mother in believing that i was a disgusting slut who smoked.
I have gradually come to believe that we might die - Sister and i - without talking again. I am getting used to it, like how i prepared myself for Appachan's death. I am not sad that she hates me. It's only natural given the amount of utterly disgusting opinions i shared with her about herself.
I observed that i always took care to kill the 'Sister;' in my films. From the time i was doing plays in high school to now, it has been like that. I forgot what Ish said the reason could be.
I am, however eager to find out if i will get some insight into our relationship through therapy. As shocking as it was to draw that picture, i do hope that maybe i will be able to see things through another prism.
I sensed that it was a very difficult area - my eating and i was resisting it with all my might. Yet, when Ish asked me about my sister, before thinking of her, i thought if Ish was giving up on my eating problem. I have come to realize that there is a small part of me who is also seeking help, so that one was kind of waving at me saying 'don't abandon me!'
I comforted myself saying it could be that there were thin threads connecting my sister problem with my food problem or that Ish intended to come back to it later.
But i should say that the session that followed after i was asked to speak of my sister shocked the hell out of me. I had given up on our relationship. Repeated attempts at mending it had failed. There was absolutely no hope. Sister expected me to apologise for calling her abusive and a lot many names. I wasn't going to do that. In spite of all that, i didn't think that it was useless talking about her. She has been a big part of me. It can't be erased. It saddens me deeply that things have come to this, a break up, a thing that we had vowed to resist as children. Well, i was a child. She was a teenager. We have seven years between us - the reason why i think i am an unplanned pregnancy.
So i told Ish that i always felt that Mother loved me more than she loved Sister. I was angry with Mother for that. I wanted her to love Sister the same. I felt guilty for the things only i got to have because by the time my childhood started, the financial condition of the family had improved a bit. So Sister never got to attend painting classes or chess coaching or basketball training, violin lessons and join Guides (girl scouts - be prepared). I got to do all that and like a spoiled brat i gave up all of those things midway. I had the luxury to, when she never even had the opportunity. I still feel bad and guilty about it all.
Ish asked me how i felt about Sister now. I have always been scared of her. I am still scared of her. I told Ish that. She asked me to draw what i felt about Sister now. Some photographs from the past came to my mind. One in which we are on our haunches, looking at the camera, in that house where Father died. One in which i still had curly hair and was pinching the life out of Sister's face. I was a baby. But all that was long ago. I gave up trying to draw one of those photographs. Ish said that she would like it that i drew what i felt now, about Sister. Without thinking much, i drew a wrist that was being slit with a knife. I clarified that it Sister who was cutting my wrist to help me.
I have no idea why i drew that. It scares me shitless that that is what i drew. It was so violent. Where on earth did that come from! It wasn't that bad, Ish said. I had made clear that Sister was helping me die. It could be that, i thought that the way in which Sister was helping me wasn't very good. I don't know. No one is helping anyone now and i am still wondering why my picture turned out to be like that.
In fact, i now think that i need to take care of Sister and help her. I only wanted to be like her when i was little. Not just little. Till the time i questioned her some years ago. Now i want to help her and only want to be like inji now. Maybe that's why Sister doesn't like me or inji anymore. Sigh.
I remember recalling instances where she joined forces with mother to turn against me. The one time i opened the door for her and she slapped me out of worry. I had not been answering calls and it had led both Mother and her to believe that i was dead.
The time when Sister and Mother read my diary and found out about my not so nice relationships. That's putting it mildly. It was all abusive but my family didn't know how to deal with it. I have no anger or hard feelings against them for that. That's how bad we are, as a race in dealing with abuse and trauma. Even the best people have no clue how to handle it.
I remember that as the first time i ever found courage to hit Sister back. I had done that with Mother a lot, perhaps because the frequency was much higher, of her beating me. But with Sister i could never even imagine raising my hand on her. I never understood why she sided up with Mother in believing that i was a disgusting slut who smoked.
I have gradually come to believe that we might die - Sister and i - without talking again. I am getting used to it, like how i prepared myself for Appachan's death. I am not sad that she hates me. It's only natural given the amount of utterly disgusting opinions i shared with her about herself.
I observed that i always took care to kill the 'Sister;' in my films. From the time i was doing plays in high school to now, it has been like that. I forgot what Ish said the reason could be.
I am, however eager to find out if i will get some insight into our relationship through therapy. As shocking as it was to draw that picture, i do hope that maybe i will be able to see things through another prism.
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