Last weeks theme entry alittle late.

I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now, I don’t even know if it’s too late for the theme entry, but I know whom I would change places with now.

I thought about famous people, the president, all sorts of things, but whom I think I would switch places with is my sister.    However, I would only change places with her on one condition that we could see through each others eyes, but have the other person’s personality traits.  Kind of like a trapped inside another’s head and can’t do anything to let them know I’m there sort of thing.  Alexandria has some serious problems.  She is violent, to herself more then others, but can be towards others as well.  She has extreme mood swings, I mean major.  One minute she’s happy go lucky, the next she’s screaming at the top of her lungs, no joke, the top of her lungs, screaming that she’s stupid, that we hate her.  Last night my dad asked her to do the dishes, and she exclaimed that he only asked her because he hates her.  She’s irrational, and very hard to handle.  It’s very frustrating.  You can smile at her and she’ll go bananas about giving her a dirty look.  I would love to understand her thinking patterns, what goes on in her head, and I would love for her to see the same for us.  When we are thinking when she goes on a rampage.  My mother wouldn’t like the word rampage, but sometimes I think it fits quite nicely.  I want her to know, from our stand point, our views, that what she’s doing not only hurts us, its scary sometimes.  I really think she’s crazy, certifiably.  I want to what she’s thinking when she’s smacking herself in the head, or when she says that we hate her, while we’re in Target shopping for her.  I think if I could understand her thought process, I would be able to handle the situation better.  And sometimes I don’t handle it well at all.  We were in a store one day, after she had been to the allergist.  They were there for hours, and Alex was having tests were they were poking here with these little needles that had gunk on them to see what she was allergic to.  They poked her on her back and her arms, and it left awful marks, ‘cause she was allergic to a lot of it.  I said “ oh, poor baby, that really sucks.”  Her response was “yea right, such sarcasm, you don’t mean that.”  I snapped, called her a bitch, and told if that yes I did, but if she was going to act that way, then I take it back.  She just it a nerve so bad.  Right then I would have loved to be in each others shoes.  That would have been a wonderful learning experience for us both.