Ah, To Live Without Pesky Reality Part Six

Rapidly coming to an end to the rantings, but she saves the best for that end:

I was going to come visit my mother, but my sister has went as far as signing papers at the nursing home she tucked her away in stating that I was not to come see my mother, they were advised to call the police if I attempted to see my own mother.

She was not going to come visit.  She never had any intention of coming to visit.  Remember, she ignored all messages that Mom was even  in the skilled rehab center following her fall with fractures and head injuries.


Mom was the one who told her on the phone, when she could get through to her, and Mom was, at that time, still experiencing severe delirium and increased confusion, coupled with anger and paranoia.  Which of course, Psycho leapt upon with her patented hunger for drama.


As for the restrictions, she initially told people I had a restraining order against her.  Total bullshit.  And she said the police told her I had that restraining order.  Again, total bullshit.  They can't report what does not exist.


And why would they "have told her"?  What circumstances led to her speaking to them at all?


She called them to go to the nursing home in the middle of the night and interrogate an old woman; this also frightened the other residents.  Like the caring daughter she is.


I did have a paper with their photos and the warning about their psychotic behavior in the facility.  I did tell the staff to call the police if they showed up, because they would likely be armed.  Recall the photo I posted previously.  These are not sane people.  She made it clear in phone calls to Mom, witnessed by others, that she was going to come take Mom.


She was, and is, a danger to Mom.  Reality plays no part in her thought process at all.  She's had no interest in seeing Mom in years.  Decades, in fact.  But she saw the opportunity to add to her growing pile of Federal and State money.


I will not allow that.  If that means she can spew "she won't let me see my vewy own mummy!" to all her bottom-feeding friends, so be it.


I need to shower, talking about her makes me feel like I've tromped through a swamp.


Until next episode...

Ah, To Live Without Pesky Reality Part Five

Marching onward into the madness:

 My mother was going to move to Tennessee, I had a rental house she could move into for free, and I was going to pay her for babysitting my son if needed. This poor excuse for a human being found out and immediately decided to adopt a child from China so my mom would have to raise it, and she did. They went so deep into debt adopting her daughter that she lost her home. Now that her daughter is old enough to stay home alone, she doesn’t need our mother anymore. Yet she is still trying to control her and keep her from contacting me. She took my mothers little phone book so she didn’t have my number, after 3 weeks of not hearing from her, I contacted family. They got me in contact with her and now even that has stopped. It has been 4 weeks since I have heard from her and I always talked to my mother at least once a week.

This whole first line is a lie.  She was not at that time living in TN,  she and her family were living in my basement or living in nasty trailers.  I first started the process in 1998, and at that time, she might have been living in TN, but it would have been with her first husband.  Her second husband was living in a camp at the top of a mountain.  She did not "have a rental house" until her second husband's brother killed himself and his wife -- well after I had brought my daughter home --  and he inherited a nasty plot of land with shacks spread all over.


*Deep breath*  Let's look this over.  I went down to TN some months before I got my referral, to bring the Psycho's daughter up to try to help her.  At that time, they lived in a two-story dump.  "Outbuildings" littered the property.  I guess she might have called one or two of them "rental houses."  That's her story, and she's sticking to it.  The point is, I was already nearly three years into the adoption process.  This property was in contention between the two brothers for years, and ended up "hers" only after the deaths of her in-laws.


Almost immediately, she and her husband and small son followed.  They abandoned their property and all its "houses" without a backward glance.   I think they were actually chased out by his brother.  They moved into my house because Mom felt sorry for them and begged me to allow it.  As I've said before, they had to go before the final home eval, because they could not pass any criminal background check.  They moved into a nasty trailer right in our town, NOT in TN.  They had won some money in a lawsuit against a drug dealer who'd beaten up her second husband.  Wonder if they saw any of it?  The true reason I got behind on bills was because I was supporting the entire family by myself.


The "rental house" idea only came after Mom was in the nursing home.  She really intended to stick a woman with fractures, impaired mobility, and dementia "in her own li'l house" and take her pension money.  And Mom would become that funny smell out back.


The whole contact thing is more than delusional.  Mom was seriously confused before her fall, and that only increased after the fall.  Mom's phone book was buried in her piles of things around her recliner, and it took me some time to find it. 


And...Psycho ignored the many messages from our sister about Mom and her placement.  There was no excuse for that, none at all.  Except that she's a selfish bitch who wanted nothing to do with Mom at that time.


She did not have weekly contact with Mom before her injury.  They spoke perhaps twice a month.  Most of the conversation, according to Mom, was Psycho chronicling the latest degenerate activities of Psycho's daughter (the one I tried to help, and that didn't go very well).  I'll make it clear that I didn't  want to hear anything about Psycho or her brood.  It often caused me to raise my voice to Mom, yes, to stop her from telling me about the depravities and criminal activities.


After Mom's injury and placement, most of the conversation was Psycho screaming about me abusing Mom, according to those in the vicinity during the conversations.  This habit continues to this day, and Mom, while having easy access to a phone and ability to call Psycho any time, has chosen not to speak to Psycho since her call to her on her birthday, which I had to encourage Mom to make.  Mom does not want to talk to her much anymore.


I guess even Mom has her limits.


This crap wouldn't fly in a novel, because novels have to make sense.  Reality doesn't.  Of course, there is very little reality in Psycho's world.


Until next time...

Ah, To Live Without Pesky Reality Part Four

Still got your hip-waders on?  Because the shit gets even deeper...

 When she found out, at 12 years old, that my father was not hers, she constantly thought up ways to kill him…after she found she couldn’t control me, she kissed up to my father and tried to turn him against me. Hell, even that didn’t work.

A long time ago, in a city far away, three girls sat at the base of a pine tree.  One girl furtively informed the other two that she had heard an aunt say, in the very basement of her house just a few yards away, that their father wasn't really their father.


At this time, I don't remember the conversation after that.  Later that night, I got out of bed and went to Mom, who was sitting in the dining room.  Dad wasn't home.  He often wasn't home.  And when he was, things were bad.


I -- foreshadowing my later habit of brutal bluntness -- asked Mom if Dad was our dad.


You notice that, right?  Our cousin had told us Dad was not our dad.


Mom became furious, asking me who had told me.  At any other time, she might have lied her ass off.  But she and Dad must have been on the outs, because she saw it as an opportunity to cement a few "truths" into my young head.  And make me her ally, crutch, and tool.


She told me she'd never wanted me to know, but that it was the reason Dad hated me.  Why he beat me.


He was the other one's father, but not mine.  Mom had had an affair while Dad had been in the Army in Germany.  Again, I'm not going to fake memories of that conversation.  I don't remember much else about it.  She sent me off to bed.


I will admit this changed how I looked at Dad.  He was a frightening, volatile presence, as likely to punch as to laugh.  I remember feeling relief that he was not my dad, that his anger was not my heritage.


Well, I was wrong about that, wasn't I?


And I did not care or have any curiosity about the man who had fathered me.  Not for many years.  Oh, occasionally I had those normal teen fantasies that the faceless one would sweep in and save me from my abuse-filled life.


Back to her narrative... No, I never entertained any thoughts of killing him.  He was huge in my life, someone who could not be reasoned with.  And certainly someone who could not be charmed.  He doled out affection in his own way as often as he doled out abuse.  I did, as I was told later, begin to distance myself from him.  I'm certain everyone thought it was just teenage behavior.  I was not aware of any of it at the time.  I do know that he never hit me again.  And I transformed from punching bag to china doll; he really saw me as fragile, and Psycho as a tough tomboy. 


But I am very good at distancing myself now, so it stands to reason that I could do it then.


Controlling her... yes, I did my best to control her actions so she didn't walk right into a rapist's hands.  I failed.  Many times.  The men who meandered through our lives, courtesy of Mom, saw both of us as easy targets.  I will admit to screaming at her when she would not lock the door to keep a man who had raped his own daughters for years out of our house when our parents weren't home.  I had to push her aside and do it myself, holding a baby (our little sister) in my arms.


I think it was the birth of that sister that released me from trying to "control" the Psycho.  The Psycho has accused me in other posts of being possessive of that baby.  Given how her own daughters turned out. and how well that child turned out, free of sexual abuse, I'd have to say I did rather well that second time around.  Our little sister would likely be a wreck of a human being like her, or like me, if the Psycho had had her way.


Kissing up to Dad.  That's hilarious.  No, I became Dad.  A refined version of him, anyway.  Tough, cynical, and unwilling to put up with lies.  When our relationship mended many years after the revelation, I discovered that I scared him.  Because I was him.


I never had to turn him against Psycho, because she did that all by herself, at least to a degree.  He never turned his back on her, ever.  He tried his best to set her on the right course, from getting angry about her smoking to getting angry about her and her friends being drunk (Mom supplied the beer, and Psycho was about fourteen) to tearing down a "clubhouse" that same year where she was... entertaining all the neighborhood boys.  I mean all of them.  He was a hot, furious mess that night.  He dragged her home, and she got out her bedroom window and ran away.  For the first time.  Certainly not the last.  Years later, when she ran away from Mom after the divorce, he took her in.  There was no turning him against her; she was his "little boy."  He didn't even turn against her when he walked in to find her in the arms of a woman.  She was, certainly, his little boy, he just hadn't known how much. 


In posts past, she said I began trying to kill people at age sixteen.  Now she's lowered the age to twelve.  I suppose, eventually, I will have clawed my way out of the womb, dragging my mother's entrails behind me.


There really isn't any psych help that would be effective; God knows she's been in treatment since the age of six.  That, of course, is also my fault.


It's a burden I must carry.

Ah, To Live Without Pesky Reality Part Three

Yes, she does give March hares a run for the money in the madness department...

 As to her ex-fiancé, she was never going to marry him. She was just using him up, for what purposes…only she knows; God knows it wasn’t for his money. She hates all men and persecuted my baby son because he would grow into a man…and a very fine young man he is.

Wow.  First, how did she know he has no money?  And second, how did she know I was engaged?


Family, of course.


Rusty was my boyfriend back when I was twelve and he was fifteen.  We reconnected, on Facebook of course, when we were both well into our fifties.  He pursued hard.  But our engagement entailed his moving to my home far from his family, friends, and pastimes.


There were other issues, but in the end, I could see he was not happy, so I broke off the engagement and he went home.  We are still friends, and he still tells me he loves me. 


I hate all men?  Well, if you gauge it by her standards, a woman who does not give a blow-job to a total stranger behind the 7-Eleven hates men.  A normal woman doesn't do that,   But we're not talking normal here.  Skirt up, panties down, or you hate all men.


And her son... oh, you have no idea how I pity Charley.  He spent a great deal of his early childhood living in my house.  Bright, cute, and amazingly well-mannered for having the parents he has.  But given how Psycho's daughter turned out (another one got her shit together by cutting Psycho completely out of her life), I really didn't hold out much hope.  "A very fine young man he is...."  Who threatens to kill himself on Facebook, who tells his good sister that he hates his life because of all the violence between his parents, whose mother makes him sleep on the couch "because he likes to."  Whose father loathes him because Charley wants to be a woman.


Fine and Dandy, yes indeedy.


And you'll notice she doesn't mention her daughters.  They mean nothing to her, except something to hold up every now and again when saying, "I love all my children!"  Yeah, I've heard that one before -- the platitudes are inherited.  Her other daughter, well-raised as she was, can't keep a job because she can't not steal from her workplace on the very first day of employment.  She has three sons from three different men, including her married brother (their Bible says steps are siblings, so I'm going with that, since the man is her (step)father's son), and has lost custody of all of them.  Unfortunately, the courts gave them over to the Psycho.  They are all "disabled," no surprise there.  And Psycho wants them for the money.  They also have no chance.  Oh, and Daughter just got out of jail for the eleventieth time, and she's pregnant by yet another man, possibly the career criminal she's been homelessing with, or maybe a correctional officer, she probably doesn't even know.  A girl.  I'm sure she's praying Children's Services doesn't have their baseball mitt out in the delivery room, because the girl will be important to her.  The girl will bring her in some drugs and money.  Might as well name her Fancy, as in "Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy, they'll be nice to you."  It was certainly what Psycho did with her, trading her to crack dealers when she was prepubescent.


That's just the way it is in that happy family.


I'm finding that I feel less tension as I write these out.  It's like lancing a boil that's festered far too long.


Until next time... and more March Madness...

Ah, To Live Without Pesky Reality Part Two

And the next installment of the comedy act:

"I pissed my sister off several years ago and she vowed to keep me from my family, to ruin my life and take away my friends. She never accomplished any of them. She couldn’t turn my husband against me because he saw right through her scheming. She has been malicious all these years and taking it out on her own mother, and I have been 800 miles away. What kind of sorry, pathetic person would do this to her own mother? She is sick and twisted and everyone needs to know this. "

Wow.  Just... wow.  She did indeed piss me off several years ago.  She would call me at least every couple of weeks to come save her from her husband, then would be back with him in 24 hours.  When she slipped her leash, he would come after me and my toddler daughter.


The neighbor congratulated me more than once on kicking his ass off my property when he'd come showing it and threatening.


Yeah, he's a peach. 

He's the one in the yellow shorts.  With moonshine in one hand and a (probably unregistered) gun in the other.  The "boys" are his charming friend and his son (above him) who screwed and impregnated his own sister.




Turn him against her?  Why would I do that?  She seems to believe I want the men in her life.  Oy, if you could see all the men who've marched through her bedroom... he's representative, so you get the idea.


My sole intention was to keep him away from me and mine.  So it was necessary to cut her out, because, no matter how many times he beat her, she crawled right back.  And Mom... well, let's just say Psycho nuts don't fall far from the maternal tree.  Drives me insane when Mom tells that thing above that she loves him, you know, during those calls I never let her make.  He beats her daughter and probably molested her granddaughters, but Mom still tells him she loves him.


Yes, I cut Psycho out.  Would you let this near your toddler daughter?! 


And during all this time, I held a job as a nurse.  A good one.  They never held jobs they had to pay taxes from.  I also passed every psych and social test there is, along with criminal background checks.  Of course, I had to kick them out of my house before the adoption, because they could not  pass any such scrutiny.  Besides, as I said, they held no jobs.  I supported four other adults and four kids on my salary alone.  I'd have to say the odds of me showing malicious, destructive behavior was low, given that I was exhausted all the time.  I guess my meanness occurred when I told him he couldn't beat her in my house.  How cruel and malicious could I be to demand that?!  Shame on me...


And 800 miles away... yeah, that happened because he begged me for the money to get them there.  And I gave it.  I knew I'd never see it again.


I counted it money well spent.


She is obsessed with saying I abuse Mom.  I guess it's because she heaped abuse on our mother from her early teens.  I do notice, and will explain, the way she has twisted everything that has happened into something I have done.


Until next time...