The lost battle with my sister

It depends on who you ask to make an image of how am I.

Some may say happy, smart, goofy, sarcastic, polite, weird, shy, or outgoing. The answers can be the opposite one of another. That’s because my personality changes when trying to fit into a social group … I don’t know if that even makes sense. But most wouldn’t say I’m sad, depressed, emotional or suicidal; but most don’t know what I’ve been through the last seven years.

I was 14 when my sister (16) started to feel insecure about her body thanks to a stupid person who told her “Wow, you’re so fat now.” She exercised a lot and skipped meals. I was worried, after talks with my parents, though. she seemed to be getting better. But that was just a mask – I found hidden food and a corset and I didn’t know what to do; I asked her directly hoping she wouldn’t lie. But she did – my dad found the food while cleaning. We tried to help her but it didn’t work … it was frustrating.

Later, they took her to a psychologist on a doctor recommendation. She strongly disagreed and became physically aggressive. My mom was seriously affected because it seemed like the doctors blamed my parents, like they were at fault for everything. I can tell you, we were never in need, my dad was a loving dad and my mom was a role model, both with good values.

I was wearing a mask, burying my feelings just to appear strong.

It got worse. She vomited, wrapped her waist with ropes; now she has scars there. It felt unreal, I saw in slow motion how my mom and sister were falling apart, self-destroying, while my dad was resisting, and I couldn’t do anything. I got angry at myself, and before I realized it, I was wearing a mask, burying my feelings just to appear strong. I made my sister eat, by force if necessary, talking to her every day. Finally she went to the hospital and got better, of course it’ll take more time to overcome that. All I could do was wait for the best.

ROUND TWO! Second problem for her was depression. I was in high school at this time, my sister was studying linguistics but because of a boyfriend and lazy teachers, she was frustrated in Uni and really sad. She felt she didn’t have something to live for; I kept talking with her, trying to cheer her up. It didn’t work, and she also refused to take the medicine the psychologist ordered. I had to force her to take them.

She tried to jump from the third floor three times. Once I came back from school, there was a note “We took your sister to the hospital.” That was the first time I cried. I didn’t feel like crying back in the critical moments, maybe because I wanted to be strong for everyone, I didn’t even know why I was crying.

After a few months she came back home; looking better. But that didn’t last forever.

I saw in slow motion how my mom and sister were falling apart

ROUND THREE! Sooner than later she started to buying expensive things, buying a lot, and going out late. My suspicions got stronger and stronger and for the first time I wanted to be wrong; after all the problems she had I was always looking for her to be okay, to bring back the confident girl she once was. However I did my research and the proof was solid, my stomach suddenly felt empty.

I decided to tell my dad, but to my surprise he had done an investigation too. We’re almost sure — my sister was a prostitute. We didn’t want to believe it, we investigated more and all we did was find more proof. That was it, we faced her, but again she denied it; screams, my mom crying, my dad getting aggressive, and I was still calm. Later she promised she was out of that “business.”

She didn’t leave that stuff behind though. She refused to go to the doctor, she threatened us with killing herself. That year was the few times I saw my dad cry. My mom was destroyed and I was VERY anxious.

Next confrontation was the pinnacle of my own battle. After a while, I broke. A huge mix of intense emotions, emotions I haven’t felt since I was 14 and a voice screaming “GUILTY.” I heard my parents calling me.

Then I woke up knowing nothing. Who was I? What’s my name? Who is that woman looking at me? Why I can’t remember anything? Why they ask about my sister? Do I have a sister? What year is this?