gone baby gone

Finally.  No more pill-cam in me.

The really amusing thing about the pill-cam was that my sister texted me the other day looking to chat.  And when I say “chat”, I mean talk about her and her stuff.  Obsessively.  Incessantly.  She’s applying for jobs right now and she’s in a high stress situation, which makes her already obsessive tendencies go into overdrive.  The last few conversations I’ve had with her have been 98 – 100% all about her.  And I think I could deal with that if it weren’t the same conversation over and over and over.  Last week, somewhere around the 4th iteration, I finally said “I’m curious – what is it that you need from me here?”  She was confused so I elaborated.  “We’ve talked about this, and I’ve told you what I think.  I’ve told you what I’d do when it seems like you’re asking for my opinion or advice.  But we’ve talked about it more, so I tried just listening to see if maybe you just needed to talk this out to think it out.  But we’re still talking about it again…so I feel like I’m not doing what it is that you need or want.”  She said, with a somewhat offended tone “I don’t need anything…”  “Ok, not need then. Want.  Expect.  Here’s my concern:  I keep offering you my opinion.  _____ (our brother) has told you what he thinks.  _______ (my husband) has said what he thinks.  And I’ve said what I think.  I don’t want this to turn into me barraging you with ‘do this and do that!’ but I feel like I keep being prompted to offer what I think you should do.  Does that make sense?”  She agreed, a little calmer, that it did.  “But you don’t do that” she assured me.  At this point, I was about ready to jump out of my skin.  “Ok, so then what is it that you want?  Do you just need to talk this through out loud to work through how you feel or should I keep participating actively and giving you my feedback?”

The conversation just kind of stalled.  She wouldn’t make eye contact with me through it and I started feeling myself slipping, letting some of the irritation come through.  So I stopped.

Point is though, it was a difficult conversation and it sprang from the sometimes unbearable task of being cast in some ambiguous role while she obsesses over what is plaguing her.  Aside from the not terribly rewarding feeling one gets during a conversation like that, with my sister, there are consequences for not performing in the ambiguous role correctly.  Missteps are noted and are punishable.  Sometimes month later.  Sometimes years.  I get sick of tiptoeing through that minefield sometimes.  Especially when my energy is low and I have my own troubles.

So she texted me the other day to ask what I was up to.  I know her well enough to know this was a prelude to a call.  I also know that she is nearly phobic about scatological issues.  I wrote back “waiting to poop out a camera” and haven’t heard from her since.

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