SOS

With my best friend, Anne, we "invented" OSS = older sister syndrome (or SOS). Caring too much, worrying, being annoying, giving unwanted advices, loving ad absurdum.
I remember my youngest sister drunk, vomiting, uncooperating, beautiful in her dress, but so heavy for what used to be my body and my nerves. I should be the one who takes her home safely and I could not do it. I was the sick one then. Powerless, frustrated, older in my younger body. I didn' t do my older sister's job properly for years.

Now I am far far better, my body heavier than ever, my thoughts sometimes mess, but I live. I can have 12 friends in the house, drink and eat and smile and listen and sometimes say something and sometimes feel loved. I can wake up and not being scared to bones that I will pass out during the surgery or having hands so cold that my patients are uncomfortable. I still don't know where I am going and I am worrying about being crappy doctor or even not getting a job because my communication skils, that are not exactly top... But now I see I am not alone and lot of my friends have similar feelings.

Now I am certainly more "standard" older sister, with voice and body and strength. If my brother was drunk, I could have bring him home safely. But no. Nonono. Here I am again empty handed, watching how my older sister's concept doesn't work. He is miserable and although he has really surprisingly adult-like insight on the illness, he can't eat. And I don't have my usual excuse, I don't have anorexia for myself, I have to watch it like some out-of-body experience, someone who I love feels what I know is excruciating and confusing and what is eroding the very concept of yourself and let you deep down in a cold hole with lies and qualms and dark thoughts and no perspective for some better state and maybe I deserve it, maybe it is punishment for all those years I was the object of worries. It burns and screams and aches in my hrad and stomach, but I have to live, just like my family did all the time. For myself and for them.