nccotus

…another part of the storyboard

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I came to know my sister in ‘83 for the first time when I was at home in Summit, NJ when I was at home on a forced leave of absence from Harvard College and didn’t know the Lord. I turned to her in my distress and she turned me over to my mother. Everything else is a straight shot since then. It all led to a feeble suicide attempt that was so humiliating and embarrassing. I didn’t know how to cut my wrists but did some significant nerve damage.

40 years later I was working on a paper trail issue that started when they took my room away when I went away to boarding school and gave it to her, including all my valuables such as stuffed animals and glass animals and flowers. I don’t know if they just left her with my 6 deep shelves worth of anxiety-producing collections or threw it away . We moved 3 years later and I wasn’t even there. In the cottage in PA I finally took the bull by the horns and resolved this issue in my mind.

My most significant work of my writerly years was “Hupomone,” which is a Greek word meaning “patient endurance in suffering” which well-characterized my life for many years at that time. My suffering was chiefly for my son.

I started to turn to Jesus but it was a long time before I got there. I had a Jewish character through my mother through Jewish matrilineal descent, all her friends were Jewish. I was all OT, (Old Testament), I loved King David and King Solomon. I lived God before Jesus. But I did love St. Paul.

Claire always competed with me for everything in a way that I did not appreciate in the sense that I really didn’t see it until recent years when she started to attack me. Religion was one of her areas of attack.

I always kept my own space, not realizing how it was affecting my son.

this was a recent image of her portraying my memory of her as a little girl. I can’t read the writing. I always saw her as harmed and hurting and wished I could help.

These days I am harmed and hurting myself and don’t appreciate her attacks.

I will give it to her that she was the true horse person that I could never be with a broken pud. “Alibi Acres” says it all. I was a serious stress on that place. It was a necessary outlet for me and I truly loved it but it was agony for me to be a rider and care for my horse. It was an alibi for Mom and Dad to be able to say that I had that preoccupation.

I was haunted by my mother’s girlhood preoccupation with horses, I remember sitting with Steven in Claire’s room in New Providence when she was just a toddler in her crib, I don’t remember what he was doing but I was always sitting on the floor drawing horses. The two of us raised her. That was how it felt to me.

This is me at about 12. I had my own problems. I had gotten my hair cut after wearing it in one long braid down to my ass all my life.

This is me if I hadn’t had to worry about my sister all my life. I have learned to step aside from people like her and let them roll on. Like, here, yesterday. Users.

this is the little girl I would have been without the mole-wart, if it had been removed as it ought to have been—when I was a child. That’s a shirt U actually had that I hated. I hated everything because of the mole-wart. It made me a hateful person.

In my travels I learned to hear the word “no.”

At the Haven Tower Unit I had a relationship in my mind with a correctional officer at Berks County PrisOn who had me in a toehold and was there to guide me when I needed him to; which was often. My mother guided me errantly to be a ridiculously rebellious back-talker and insanely malfeasant, for instance, praising me for walking into a coffee shop in Boston when I was ill and asking for a cup of coffee for free.

furthur damage from a life ill-lived as I struggled to find my way with an enemy in my sister, not knowing it, not knowing what she was doing to my son and how my mother was supporting it.

All I could do was sit in my ass and gather diseases helplessly hike he suffered, not being able to tell me what was going on. This was my sick shame.

All along I struggled for the friendship that I assumed was there.

It’s hard to read these 2 pages but they are a letter to Claire offering prayers against evil that I felt drawn to send her. For years as sent her emails.

then, recently, the tone changed as I began to understand her differently.

It started with the “slope epiphany” when I realized that everything always tanked on “C” in the A B C D round, it’s hard to even remember the logic let alone explain it; but it was about Claire.

I know that she battles me about pro-life vs.pro-abortion and keeps it quiet; and uses me for it.

I stepped out of her league when I married Alex.

There will be peace in the end.

This F’D up Jaguar ET is here to reflect the condition of all humanity at this time. As we come to meet aliens who may be here to help.

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but, Alex also needs to learn the meaning of the word no. He thinks that America is his personal candy store.