Random ranty ramblings

Sis is having a hard time dealing with the abuse case, it's affecting her persistently volatile marriage plus she's involved in another court case to do with access rights (also within the dysfunctional collection of oddities that I have to call family) as well as due to start a new job next week so she's very stressed. Understandably, so I offer my usual constant listening and verbal support. Unfortunately this stress coincides with the onset of winter and her husbands annual SAD depressive period, which means that when my ever present ear stops being enough to salve her sensitive soul, she goes into 'let's tell Bitch where she's going wrong in the areas of mothering her children, coping with the case (i.e. drinking), her ex-husband/the current men in her life and not being a productive, tax-paying member of society' mode.

She thinks this is for my own good, she thinks it's the only 'tough love' that I get cos she thinks that no-one else will stand up to me and tell me the truth. I think 'sis, I really do love you to bits but shut the fuck up dumping this shit on me just cos you wallow in the emotion of it and I merely stick my fingers up to it and get on with life cos I have no other choice, much like you're moaning about having to do yourself, eh? And while I'm at it, kindly fuck right off with the 'I'm doing you a favour by saying this' self-righteous tone cos it just makes me want to kick you in the tits.

None of which I can actually say cos I'm the one that just stays strong and laughing while everyone else takes to their bed, fit-of-the-vapours style, with the back of their hand on their forehead or has toddler-style, weeping and wailing tantrums. It has always been thus, since I was firstborn to a woman who's a professional victim I never had the chance to learn how to have a good gnashing of teeth while someone else did the 'there, there' bit, put the kettle on and sorted the kids out. That's not a problem, it just means if I need to offload I have to find alternate means and I have a full complement at my disposal from my years of research. Brandy and coke works well - hell, if I drink enough of it I can sometimes even squeeze a few tears out - a good sparring session or pummelling my punchbag/a set of pads held by a beefy martial artist, journalling (and now blogging, of course), not to mention rampant sex. I sometimes wonder if my quest to get more women into martial arts is less to do with empowering them personally and more about giving them an outlet for their emotions so they don't passive-aggressively take them out on some other poor bastard. Probably both.

I'm getting messages that posting and saving may not work (again! what's occurring with blogger lately ffs?!) so I'll try and post this bit then rant on in another entry cos if I lose any of this I'll be so pissed off!