Just a short note. My Grandpa died this week. It has brought up all sorts of inner turmoil. He and I were never close. I am not sad for his loss. All I feel is anger. It is old anger. My family would consider it petty. I am supposed to comfort my sister who was very close to my Grandpa but she made it her life mission when I was a child to make me misserable. A couple of years back she admitted she down right hated me as a child. She didn't want a sister. She abused me physically and verbally. She drove me from my home so I spent most of my time wandering about in the woods by myself until my parents got home from work. Now I am expected to comfort her in her pain.

My anger is huge. It has no where to go because as angry as I am I realize that this is not the appropriate time to bring this all up. I must go to the funeral and bite my toungue and squash my pain and anger. I must hide it like I hid it all those years back. Back then I hid it because she told me that she would make it all that much worse if I said anything to my parents. Why do I hide it now? Social decorum.

I want to run a blade up the insides of my arms so that they can see what is inside. But I won't because it would serve no purpose because I am going to where a long sleeved shirt. *Zen smiles ruefully at the stupidity of it all* On the bright side I have spoken about these feelings to several different people instead of stuffing it deep inside and living with it alone.
Carrie

<font color=green>But the implicit and usually unconscious bargain we make with ourselves is that, yes, we want to be healed, we want to be made whole, we're willing to go some distance, but we're not willing to question the fundamental assumptions upon which our way of life has been built, both personally and societally.--Bill Plotkin, Soulcraft