Me & my Sister

PSA: This isn't the most positive blog in the EDS world, is it? I suppose that's because I don't talk to anyone else about my feelings about EDS. I grew up in a family where displaying any weakness, whether physical or emotional was highly frowned upon. It didn't matter if you were sick. For that reason, my symptoms often make me feel ashamed, because I am showing weakness. But these feelings are not to be discussed, because to do so is showing emotional weakness. So without this blog, dear readers, I would have had a nervous breakdown ages ago and I thank you for your patience.

On with the show. This is me and my sister, when I was five and she was around a year old, give or take some months. I was really excited to be a big sister, as you can tell by my face.

My sister grew quickly and was taller than me by the time I was 12 and she was 7. As we got older, people often mistook her for the older sister, even though I was older by four and half years! Here we are at my graduation.

That was in May of '09, right before I got really, really sick. I had pushed my body hard to make sure that I would graduate. (I never would have forgiven myself if I didn't graduate.) But I don't look sick! (lol)

My sister and I have a funny, argumentative relationship. I always say, "If we weren't sisters, we could never be friends." It's very true. We usually get into an argument within a day whenever we visit each other. I'm a poor communicator, becoming sullen and silent when slighted. She is brash and frank, seldom diplomatic except when the situation absolutely requires it.

When we were kids, we would physically fight. She would push me down and sit on me, and I would kick her as hard as I could and punch her in the kidneys if I could succeed in knocking her on her stomach. It sounds terrible, but when I think back on it, I just laugh. Those were the kind of girls we were. That was the kind of environment we were raised in. Raised to be tough like boys, we fought like boys too.

But it's also an easy and a frank relationship. I can be more open with my sister than I can with anyone else I know. Nothing requires a qualifier. If I'm prepared to say it she is prepared to hear it, always. My sister thinks I am a close-mouthed, judgmental, repressed, art-fuck. But she loves me. And I love her and her explosive temper.

And I hope she never finds out I wrote this.