Saturday, June 7, 2008 -- 11:15 AM I try to be prepared for almost every eventuality in life. That is not possible nor is it even realistic. It sounds good, but it is not going to happen.   When I saw my social worker yesterday, I expected him to say something about my sister joining us for a group conference. He lived up to my expectation, but it still felt as though he had thrown a curve ball at me. I knew it was coming, but not so soon.   I keep asking myself if I really want her to be there while I talk about my problems. The simple answer is no. There may not be a lot of reasons why I feel this way, but I do not need to have any to start with. The only person I really have to satisfy is I.   My social worker seems to think that the poor relationship I have with my brother and sister is the cause for a lot of my depression. That is why he wants to meet with both my sister and I at the same time. He wants to explain this to her, and then the three of us are to talk about it.   I know that my sister will do whatever she can to help me. That is a given. I really do not want to talk about my problems in front of her, especially since some of them involve her. I can mentally envision the two of us getting into a large brawl. That is the last thing I want to happen. In certain ways, both of us are extra sensitive, and can be hurt easily. This has happened to each of us time and time again. I know how to push her buttons, and she knows how to push mine. I am not in the mood for a button-pushing contest.   Granted, this type of meeting could possibly help me. However, I am not likely to express my true feelings in front of her. In doing so, I would need to tell her that I feel as though I have been neglected by her, and her children. I am sure that would hurt her feelings, and I really do not want to do that.   Most of the therapists I have seen at the mental health clinic say that one of the reasons I used drugs was to get back at my brother and sister. I do not deny that. They did not approve of it, and I felt that was one way I could get "even" with them for the ways they have treated me over the years.   One of the things I refuse to talk about in front of my brother or sister is the sexual abuse I sustained as a child. That is none of their business. When our mother was living, and I was living with her, they did nothing to help me after I told them what had occurred. For the past year, my sister has been saying that if she had only known, they would have taken immediate steps to help me. They knew, yet they did nothing.   When our father was dying, both of them told him that they would always see that I was taken care of. That sounded good, but it turned out to be a lie. When I moved to Colorado, the first thing they did was put me into a nursing home for a year. If that is called loving me, I would hate to see what they would do if they hated me.   I am starting to see that the more I write here, the angrier I am getting. Events I thought I had forgotten, either intentionally or not, are reentering my mind. That is not a good sign.   Maybe this group conference will be a good idea after all. The mere thought of it scares me. It makes me want to run and hide. That has never worked in the past, and I have no reason to believe why it will happen now. I know that I will always try to do whatever my social worker thinks is best because I truly believe he is a reasonable and caring person and has my best interests at heart. That is a good sign.