Eating shit

As some point, that pit in your stomach where you were storing all of that shit that you didn’t want to deal with starts to overflow.

Then you have two choices, you can store the extra shit in your cheeks or you can start pulling the shit out and figure out what to do with it. I recommend option b because it will make you a more open person and also because shit doesn’t taste very good.

My brother finally started tasting the shit and reached out to try to understand how to clean out his mouth.

I went to talk with him last night (with my sister there as protector). I was kinda worried and not quite sure what to expect. You may remember my brother from such posts as “Leave me alone you shallow stranger who calls himself my brother“. But last night, he came with an open heart and a real hug. And that felt really nice.

I could see that he cared. I could see that he was struggling- that he realized he had been swallowing shit for a long time and it wasn’t helping anyone. He wanted to understand how he could help his sisters, his parents, his wife who is attacked by his mother, give his daughters back their cousins… he was finally able to see that his family was broken and that time wasn’t going to fix it. He was starting to see that it is all connected.

I think that he needed to hear my perspective on things and I shared with him. He listened, asked questions and didn’t judge.

But as I tried to help him figure out how to help repair this mess, how to bring everyone together for things like a family bbq, or a Chanukah party, I realized that I’m not really sure how to fix this. And I’m not really sure that I even want to fix this anymore.

I drove away from my sister’s house, which has always felt like a relatively safe place for me, and I thought about how I used to drive down those streets every day and I realized that I don’t really miss driving down those streets. I have new, nicer streets. And the world is full of streets for me to explore.

I went home and crawled into my bed where my husband and kids were fast asleep and someone put their foot on my cheek and I felt surrounded by love. I felt relief. I felt peace. I felt my babies breathing. This is my home. This is my family. This is my life.

I don’t want to miss another minute with my beautiful family, full of people who love me so much, just because I am trying to win love from people who, though well intentioned, are still struggling to grasp basic concepts of self-reflection and empathy. My heart is open to anyone who wants to walk gently in my life but I have to focus on giving back to my children and the friends and family who were there for me when I needed it the most.

All the things that I spoke about with my siblings were deep issues that I’ve already analyzed and grappled with in ways that they are only beginning to realize. I’ve paid my dues and dealt with my past.

I will hug them at the finish line when they get there but I can’t wait for them to catch-up.

I’m moving on.


One thought on “Eating shit

  1. Stole. my. breath. away.
    I relate so much to this.
    My family is so screwed up. I find myself worn thin trying to fix what they’ve messed up…this line “My heart is open to whoever wants to walk gently…” sigh…beautiful…powerful


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