Ticket home.

Well, I’m set to go “home” for Christmas. I just want to do it, eat dinner and open presents – then get the hell out. I don’t understand the way my family is – about money in particular – and in my last therapy session my psychologist said something along the lines of “I just… I just can’t imagine a family like yours. I just don’t understand it.” I got the impression that she’s been trying to be neutral, or nonjudgemental anyway, and focus on helping me cope with them, but that she really doesn’t think much of them.

I’ll get the usual $100 present – that’s their limit. I have wanted to think the best of my sister but she called recently to tell me about something she got for the house. A piece of furniture that was almost $5000. Very fancy. I thought about how she hasn’t  come to see me when she knew I was going through stuff, or supported me. She sent me an ecard ten years ago and that is it. And she doesn’t owe me anything, I suppose, but if our places were reversed I’d have come for the weekend during the worst times, just to keep company or help clean or show me a good time, or helped me move when I was on disability and totally overwhelmed, or something. 

It isn’t about the money or the time per se, but when she finds an hour for the gym each day but not even a spare moment to text me, it’s telling. When she finds $5000 for furniture but not money to come see me, it’s telling. And it’s deeply saddening. She cares, I am sure, in her own way but not so much that she would alter her routine or inconvenience herself in any way.

 

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