Have you heard the expression, “Crossing the Rubicon?” The Rubicon is a river in Italy. During the late Roman Republic no private citizen was allowed to have legions (large companies of soldiers) within the city of Rome. I suspect that law was made prevent rich men with money enough to afford a private army from setting up a military dictatorship. Back in 49 B.C., Julius Caesar led the 13th legion across the Rubicon and into Rome. At this point, Caesar uttered the famous words, “the die is cast.” Meaning that he had crossed a point of no return, both literally and figuratively. My sister and I have crossed our own Rubicon.
I have already blogged about what happened between me and my so called family at the beginning of last month. I’m still suffering the after effects of this assault and that’s exactly what it was, an assault. For days after, I jumped every time I heard footsteps on the stairs because I thought it would happen again. My heart beat rapidly in my chest and I couldn’t sleep and I had no appetite. I never have no appetite. I cried on and off. When I went to work on the Monday after, the events of the weekend dogged my every step,but it wasn’t until later in the week that I realized the extent of the awful situation that I’ve been living in for the last two years.
My sister has been emotionally abusing me. It would be easy to blame it all on the asshole (even now I hesitate to write that word lest he or she see it and attack me again). He’s the loud and bullying part of their abusive duo. Trisha is the emotionally manipulative one. Trisha is the slick tongued one who I trusted and who I allowed to convince me that all my resentment was selfishness, that my feelings didn’t matter, that my boundaries were unimportant. She manipulated me into believing that her needs and wants should come first. She had me feeling guilty for not doing more for her. She abused me when I didn’t let her problems be my problems. On Saturday morning when they were shouting at me, spouting lie after lie at me and trying to convince me that I was someone that I wasn’t, that they were helping me, that I was a burden to them, and that I should view constantly caring for their 3 kids as a favor they were doing for me, it opened my eyes. I could finally see the truth.
I prayed on it. I think about God alot. My relationship with organized religion is complicated and my OCD also features very intense scrupulosity. I’ve spent years convinced that I was going to Hell. Then I spent years worrying that I was an atheist. Then I worried that God would send me to Hell for being an atheist. But I prayed on this situation. Do you know what I prayed? I prayed to God to show me if any part of this situation was my fault. Even after they attacked me I was still trying to justify my abuse. That’s how abuse works–the abused always tries to shoulder some if not all of the blame.
Do you know that even after they attacked me that I was still contemplating doing things for those two? I was thinking about how I could still baby sit their children even after they bullied me. But then I realized that I have to cut ties with them completely. I cannot do another thing for those two people or I will just perpetuate the cycle of abuse. I need a clean break and a long period of no communication.