Deal Breaker: To Forgive or F*%k off

About five months ago, I had a falling out with a cousin of mine who, was really like a best friend. I used to look up to her mother. People would always say I looked and sounded like her, and I relished that attention because my aunt was cool. My aunt knew karate! Now, my aunt has fallen from grace. She's a drug addict with a brain that resembles cottage cheese.

It must be a fantastic high that she experiences, great enough to throw her life away for it-rainbows and cartoon birds resting on her outstretched finger. All the little woodland creatures dancing around her. I've been on drugs and alcohol, but I always kept my feet on the ground. There was a part of me that never wanted to completely let go. Maybe it was also the fear of mentally slipping away and becoming roommates with a girl that eats her crayons and insists that her shadow is really her dead dog Hector who came back from the dead. I don't want that reality. I don't want to be a squatter or get strong hankerings for hitting up Walmart at 3 am so that I can get more felt color by number art kits. Have you ever scene the crafts sections at these stores late at night? It's like Night of the Living Dead.

Like many drug addicts, she's deluded into thinking that nothing is her fault and everyone is picking on her. She has removed herself from everyone-favoring the role of misfit victim. The world is against her. She lost a fabulous sense of humor, too. Meanwhile, she's abandoned the role of mother to her four children, all of whom are grown-up now, but the youngest never knew her sober, and has had a rough life because of her mother's actions. And like many children who've lost their parents to addiction or abuse, they stand by her faithfully.

In her case, her daughters behave like she's a future canonized saint. I love my mom, and would like to think that she walks on water, but I'm aware of how human she is. I remember my teen years and most of my 20s. Yes, I was difficult, but so was she. She was downright mean sometimes. My point is, that no matter how much I love her, I am not in denial. These three cousins, her daughters, are blind, devoted culties-it's weird. She missed out on so many crucial moments of their lives in favor of the glass pipe with it's methy substance, but they remain with her in the canoe named DENIAL, as they all drift aimlessly.

A major catastrophe: my grandmother passed away. You can read to me thousands of pages out of the book of comfort and it will not repair the shotgun blast in my chest. Many know this wound, and are familiar with the zombie state that kicks in now and then. I have faith. I believe in God. I am aware. I also miss her, and am constantly on the verge of tears. But I pull back the sadness and forge ahead.

It's of no surprise that I became very upset when this aunt was caught in my grandmother's room, rummaging through her jewelry only moments after the ambulance took my grandma's body from her house. When I brought this up later to my one of the cousins, she replied with, "she has her reasons."
Puzzling. I bit my tongue-hard. My mom and other aunt have invited this aunt to help go through grandma's things (a painful process) so that they each can part with something sentimental, to which this aunt refused, as it would look on her martyrdom resume. The invitation was there. It's not as though she was going to be "left out". Point is, I am furious about this, but not wanting to rock the boat, I sit with this until I can figure out a way to address the subject in a way that doesn't involve me strangling anyone.

In order to to reduce confusion, I'm going to make up names for these relatives. In spite of what's gone on, I still love them and respect their privacy. Here are the names as followed:

The aunt-Alice (go Ask Alice)
eldest daughter-Flopsy
middle daughter-Mopsy
youngest daughter-Cotton Tail
son-Peter

I am being kind in naming them as it did cross my mind to name them after infamous cult followers, all but Peter (he's a reluctant player in this game), but I refrained.

Cotton Tail graduated from high school, and like her sister, Mopsy, was thrown out of their father's home on graduation day. The dad is a real peach-the kind that you'd feed to crocodiles without batting an eye. The girls moved in with their mother. Mopsy was there a short time before she moved back in with her boyfriend and their son. Cotton Tail shadowed her mother, Alice, night and day, starved for any attention that she can get from her mother whom she was separated from at around 11 years-old and sent to live with her father. For two years prior, Cotton Tail had the honor of sleeping in cars and hotel rooms then eventually in a trailer in someone's backyard with her mother. She had a cereal diet, a perfect staple to match the instability that was now her norm. Alice is a negative person though she claims to be a positive entity, for she sees herself as an enlightened spirit on her last life because of what a psychic told her. This adds to her universe as she walks around sage like when in fact, she's a sack of earthbound negativity that has sapped her and forever left her as a part of discarded, unfortunate weeds.

I noted Cotton Tail being in a toxic environment and also that she should be looking into going to school, getting work, joining a gym-something! She's 18. She should be taking advantage of her time; doing something productive. Cotton Tail has struck me as being a bit slow so she may need more guidance than the bright go getter that some are blessed to be. I texted Flopsy and told her thus, (not the dumb part) using the word toxic, a clear reference to her mother. My mistake. Flopsy forwarded my suggestion of Cotton Tail's betterment to Alice who in turn, twisted the whole thing while showing the text around to everyone that could read including other family members. Alice then chose to call me on my birthday and express her disappointment in me, that I am now one of "them"-one of those speeches that make no sense unless you've been up for three days, but I got the point. I left an angry voice mail with Flopsy that was far too fueled, and I know I should've waited, but I felt betrayed, especially because the knife in my back was still hot. The shit storm ensues.

Cotton Tail comes to the rescue and instant messages me her disapproval with fifth grade flair. I banter for a while but when Cotton Tail tried to drag my little sister into it, to which my sister was a pocketful of amused sarcasm, Deal Breaker. Involving my sister was bringing a gun to a dinner table. I have no choice but to take it from you and shoot you with it. My brother and sister are sacred, clean, untainted and void of the type of pettiness that this has become. I can't believe that I'm in it and am angry at myself for letting it happen. I meant well. I really did. I quit correspondence with Cotton Tail. Her response, she defriends me on facebook. Is that the 21st century's way of her storming out and slamming a door in one's face? I am curious by this. What's the etiquette? Defriended! Oh know! Am I suppose to start cutting myself and post pictures of the wounds with a note referring to my shame? Do I start my own youtube page and voice my pain through interpretative song and dance? Do I retaliate and then block her out completely as though she's never existed in my cyber universe? I admit, I did. Juvenile, I know, but I need to remove myself from these people, family or not. 

Flopsy comes forward and wants to squash this whole thing. I agree. As soon as I do, she then cuts me off. The ball needed to be in court, I suppose. She had to be the executioner. Her facebook comments are saturated in the love for mankind, the peace that we should all maintain etc. etc. The hypocrisy was too much to take, and I knew my curiosity would take me to her page now and then. Remember, she was a best friend. We were raised not as cousins, but as sisters. I took her off facebook, then she blocked me. We no longer speak. It hurt for a long time, but then I remembered the family that I created from the friends that have come into my life, and I found comfort in that. Flopsy doesn't have that. Most of her friendships have resulted in unresolved fights. Hhmmm...

Ridiculous drama. I write this because it's been five months. Peter has had to take in Alice and Cotton Tail, and I can only imagine that his life has become quite interesting. He reaches out to me now and then, but being the brother and son, he's bound to his family. I believe he even slung an insult or two at my mother recently. I don't want to believe it, but if that's the case, karma is a bitch and currently living in his house. But I do hope it works out for him.

My question on this whole thing: Is forgiveness a word that's left up to interpretation? Are people so stubborn and full of pride that they can't surrender to forgiveness? I have tried to reach out to Flopsy, Mopsy and Alice-they ignored me. Perhaps it was too boring of me to come forward. It wasn't exciting enough for them. I don't know, but that brought the hurt up again. I also ask myself if I forgive them? And I do. But I don't think I can let them near me again. I wish I could cut out the knowledge of Alice stealing from my grandma. THAT is what clings to me hard.

The whole forgiveness thing came up when my girl, having had a few drinks, boldly told our neighbors while in their home, that they needed to chill out on fighting in front of everyone all the time (they do and it's uncomfortable). That was the theme of what she said. I wasn't there. I only know that she also ad libbed and now regrets it and has apologized a couple times, and they have chosen to ignore her. She spoke the truth. It may not have been pretty or eloquently worded, but she is now being punished for it just as I am being punished for spouting truth. What is that?

Is this the sacrifice we make for being honest? Is it too hard to break from one's own ideologies long enough to listen to someone who can help one improve? Or do people just like the drama? Do they thrive on the anger? The resentment? I get tired if I'm mad for more than twenty minutes.

I have had people do and say horrible things to me for no other reason than to inflict pain; to confirm and feed their disease and simultaneously flood the energy field with more sadness and negativity. Some may have taken some time and most of these incidents weren't forgotten, but I did forgive them. A couple people have been forgiven though I choose to not allow them into my life anymore because they are poisonous, but I am not poisonous. My girl is not poisonous. Yet, we are unforgiven. I think, maybe, I need to include myself in the same realm where I place my siblings. The moment a bad action comes this way, I need to shield myself and cut out the cancer that is flung this way rather than let it get inside me and allow it to fester. That would be my instagram face book sign were I to ever post the drama in my life-DEAL BREAKER.

It may sound jaded, and I don't think it is, but it comes down to this: forgive or fuck off because I've got better people to devote my time to. This concludes my Springer episode... I ask one thing of anyone reading this, if you knew you had only a week left and there were some people that you needed to forgive including yourself, as a part of wrapping up your affairs, would you do it? If you don't know how much time you have left, is there time to forgive?

I have to think about that one, too.