Client Journal: Sister Dance

My sister is in the hospital because the school thought she needed to be observed and so she is medicated and in inpatient. Maybe she’ll finally get the help she needs.

It breaks my heart watching her pain, watching my pain through her eyes at the same time when i was in school. I was in Boston over the weekend and it was so bittersweet. I wanted to cry, at the loss of the years, at the difference in who I was then and who I am now. But again the void stares me in the face, the darkness and the light. I dance with it daily. Sometimes I know the steps and sometimes I don’t and I trip as my body becomes alien. All through the weekend the people I went with laughed and did stupid things, and I just couldn’t join in the laughter, because I just didn’t find it funny, almost too seriously, I couldn’t connect. The same way I felt in high school, i just couldn’t connect with the silliness of my generation, I was removed then. Maybe I’m still removed, or maybe I am just a little deeper and it takes more to get me there.

I’ve spent a lifetime looking for someone, looking for myself and it’s an endless struggle. But forgiveness over a loss of a decade is more than forgiving myself, it’s forgiving a system, and I don’t know if I can do that.

Why didn’t they hospitalize me in when I was falling apart? Or was my facade so believable?

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