I feel conflicted any time I write about this part of my life.
I sometimes feel guilty, or just.....wrong, even simply posting a status update on FB about this.
I've heard from others in similar situations, that this is normal.
But then I realized, that this is MY life.
These are all things I'M feeling, about this shitty situation that effects ME and MY family. And.... That's ok.
I am ALLOWED to vent, and mourn, and look for an outlet. It is OK for me to NEED this.
My sister had been doing better.
I was so excited and so proud. I felt like she was graduating college. I couldn't stop talking about how wonderful she was doing, or what great progress she was making.
I felt like I had given birth again and was telling everyone about my wonderful baby eating solid foods for the first time.(You know....all that nonsense that means the World to you, but everyone else creates excuses to end the conversation? Yea. Like that) I was beaming.
We were talking on the phone, she would tell me about her NARC-ANON meetings, and I would just soak in the sun as she radiated this new light.
I was so proud, and full of hope.....
But, I wasn't naive.
She came and borrowed the car, and Sean Lo-Jacked it. (I'm not stupid) We both knew that relapse is a part of recovery, and if we could hold her accountable IMMEDIATELY if she were falling into old ways, maybe we could prevent a complete collapse....and leave her with just a stumble.
She brought the car back.
Smiled, kissed me, and left to go back to her place.
We checked out the tracking device.
DEVASTATED.
She didn't go to a meeting.
She went to Watt's Park.
I immediately drove the 4 houses down from ours, to where she lives.
Instant accountability.
She denied it, flat out. Looked me right in the face, and denied it.
That's when I became addicted to denial.
You know those awfully over acted commercials? The ones with the single Mom leaving the house, and she walks in on her son and his friend counting pills, and she just pretends she didnt see it?
I used to laugh at how sickeningly inaccurate that was.
Who could be that dumb?
Answer: ME.
Me. I was that dumb. I left my sister that night, and drove home.
I didnt believe her lie, but I was so hopped up on Pride that I completely turned a blind eye to Truth.
Why, you ask?
I, am selfish.
I want my sister.
I want my kids to have to have an Aunt.
I don't have parents, and my Grand-Parents are aging further and further away from their time on Earth with me. And, I want FAMILY. My sister is pretty much all I have in that department.
And so selfish, blind me..... looked the other way.
A few weeks passed.
And no other incidents raised red flags.
Things were going well. She was coming to visit the kids, and saying she was attending her meetings.
She asked to watch the kids one day while Sean and I were at work. *Nervous* I was skeptical, but knew I had to give her some slack in the rope and what she did with it was her business.
She loves my babies. I know she does.
So, Sean and I agreed to let her watch them for the 3 hours that our shifts overlapped on a day that I had evening hours.
Unbeknownst to her, we set up motion activated cameras and once she left Sean watched to see what had taken place while she was here.
Sean called me so happy. She had been AWESOME, she was so involved and attentive. She was present and aware. She was the model for any Aunt/Caregiver.
So, when I had a day where I needed childcare yesterday.... I called Aunt Mi Mi.
She came on time, and we left.
But....before we left.... I had this urge. One I can't explain. One that didnt make any sense. I walked over to the fridge and opened it. I looked and looked, because I felt like I was forgetting something. But, my lunchbox for work was already in the car.
Then, I saw it.
We had a bottle of Whiskey in the back corner on the top shelf.
It was opened and the neck was gone. But, 85% of the bottle was still there. I took it out and visually made a note of where the level was, and asked Sean to come in and verify. We made a visual 'marker', one that we could without a doubt recall later that night. We left the house at 9:30am.
At 3:51pm, Sean sent me a picture message of the bottle. More than 16 oz was missing.
I was sick.
I left work early, and flew home.
My babies were safe.
*Thank Jesus*
I jumped out of the car, ran inside our house, grabbed the bottle, and sped to her house.
I knocked on her door, and when she came out my mouth burned from anger, and my eyes burned from sadness.
I spat 2 ugly sentences at her, set the bottle down, told her to keep it if it mattered to her so much, and drove back home.
Sean watched the videos, and later on....once I could bring myself to...I did too.
My children were alone in the living room for 2 hours, while she drank in my kitchen. My one year old, and my four year old.
My stomach lurched.
I wanted to vomit.
My Loves, my Life, my BABIES.
I protect them from everything.
What the Hell was I thinking?
I can't defend my choice.
I knew I didnt completely trust her, or I wouldnt have planted the GPS tracker, or the video, or measured the Whiskey.
The best way I can describe it is this::::::
Sean and I had been obsessed with the Sci-Fi (Now know as Sy-Fy.... if you watch Big Bang, you just called it "Sifee" in your head) show called "Tin Man". It was a modern take on "The Wizard of Oz" and takes place generations after Dorothy Gales journey to the yellow brick road.
DG (the Dorothy-esque main character) finds herself in the O.Z. and is bombarded with info about her life as a child.
The short version of where I'm going with this, is that ultimately DG realizes that the "Wicked Witch" is her sister. And as she travels to locations from her childhood, memories start flooding back to her. The sad truth, she realizes, is not that her sister is Wicked at all. She was taken hostage in her own body by a witch as a child, and had since given up hope of ever regaining control of her life again, and so succumbed to the Witches control.
I don't know what made me search for this show, or why I watched it since it is at least 4 years old. But, whatever the reason.... I watched and finished this the night before shit hit the fan.
I have kept re-playing the last scene, and its symbolical relevance in my head.
The Witch had only been able to gain control over the sister, when the two sisters had let go of each others hands.
While they were joined, nothing in the World could over come them.
They were safe from anything and everything.
But, when one sister got scared and let go..........
Bad things happened.
At the end of the movie, the sisters come together and one says to the other..." I'm scared too. But, take my hand. If you take my hand nothing can hurt us."
I think about that.
I think.... 'when did I let go?' "when did I allow this Ugliness to overcome her?'
Then the tears come.
The sobs.
The pain.
The feeling like my heart will explode.
Feeling like I will never know happiness again.
And then I think.... 'when will this end?"
'when will she take my hand?'
Then the tears come.
The sobs.
The pain.
The feeling like my heart will explode.
Feeling like I will never know happiness again.
I dont know what to do next anymore.
I've run out of next steps.
All I know is I'm adventuring to a Nar-anon meeting.
I need to cry with other people that understand this.
I need to hear success stories....and maybe even ones of ultimate failure.
I need to prepare myself, so that no matter what I dont fall apart completely, or let this rule my life.
I have Sean and my Children.
And they need me.
