The girl with the flower tattoo…Part 3

Okay, it’s time to get back to Stacey.  In reading the other two entries, I realized I went waaaaaaay off subject and talked mostly about myself….I apologize.  What I really want to write about is my sister, and our relationship….and how we got to where we finally are.

So, anyway, I was living in Illinois, J was thriving, and things were going well.  During this time Stacey joined the Army.  After she had graduated from high school she had worked here and there, but really had no goals and no plan, so she thought the military might be the answer.  I was envious, because as I wrote earlier, I had tried to join the Air Force, only to be denied.  But I was also happy for her.  I thought maybe this wold be just what she needed.  If anyone can cure an attitude problem, it’s a drill instructor! LOL.  But halfway through bootcamp she had to be medically discharged.  She had been having a lot of pain and it turns out the ligaments holding her uterus in place were weak and continued physical exertion, like there is in bootcamp, could completely snap them.  So she was discharged and sent home.  If memory serves me correctly, she went back to Indiana for a period of time, where she was kicked out of our granny’s house for stealing from her, before heading back to Illinois and moving in with my dad and stepmom.  By the time she moved back to Illinois, I had taken J and moved to Minnesota.  I had visited some friends up there (Jim and Renee, from an earlier post) and fell in love with the area, so off to Minnesota we went.

While Stacey was living with my dad and stepmom she enrolled at Harper Community College in the nursing program.  Dad and Pam (stepmom) told her that as long as she stayed in school and brought home decent grades, she could stay with them as long as she needed to and didn’t have to pay rent.  She only needed to worry about money for necessities for herself.  Sweet deal. wouldn’t you say?  Especially since Dad and Pam were also paying for her to go back to school.  So she got a part-time job waitressing in the evenings and went to school full time during the day.  Everything was great for a time.  Then one night while my sister was waitressing she struck up a conversation with some girls who were eating at the restaurant she waitressed at.  Turns out they all went to this church, which I can’t remember the name of, and they convinced Stacey to go with them the following Sunday.  She did, and she got completely wrapped up in it. 

Now most of you are probably thinking well how can that be a bad thing?  It was a VERY bad thing, because it was more than a church…it was a cult.  This so-called "church" didn’t even have it’s own building….they rented a different site every weekend.  And once Stacey joined, she was assigned "disciples" that she had to report to several times a day, had to hand over a certain percentage of her money every weekend, and had to go places like malls and street corners to try to "save" people that were walking by.  It was all very bizarre.  And then one day my dad came home and found Stacey sitting on the couch watching TV….during the day on a school day.  He asked her what was going on and she looked at him and told him she dropped out and wasn’t going to go back to school.  No explanation…..she just didn’t feel like doing it anymore.  So Dad reminded her of their deal and told her since she wasn’t upholding her end of the bargain, to pack her stuff and go.  So she did, and moved in with some of the girls from the church. 

When my sister started going to this church my Dad and Pam got concerned enough that they started researching it and actually went and talked to a man who had once been involved in it.  He told them that this church would tell my sister that anyone who disagreed with what they were teaching, she had to cut ties with.  Parents, siblings,…didn’t matter.  If they didn’t believe as the church did, they were going to hell and she could have nothing to do with them.  He also told them that if Stacey ever did leave, she would most likely fall even further away from God than she ever was in the past, and her problems would return, but only worse.  He was right, on all counts.

This church has branches in every state….even Minnesota.  While I was living in Minnesota my sister decided to move up there to, according to her, be closer to me and J.  Of course, she was still involved in the church and living with other girls who were also involved in it.  She asked me to go with her a couple of times and I did, because I wanted to see and judge for myself.  Oh wow….it was even more bizarre than I could have imagined!  Each time I went with her (I went twice), as soon as we walked in, one of her "disciples" would walk up to her and ask her "Did you bring your money?"  Now you tell me…..what kind of legitimate church does that???  None!  And sitting there throughout the service….all I can say is it was just plain weird….and creepy.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  But I have to admit….and am kind of ashamed to….that even though this church was all wrong in so many ways, the change in my sister was….well, it was GOOD!  One night she actually apologized to me, acknowledging how she knew how much she had hurt me while we were growing up.  I cried and cried when she said that, because that’s all I had wanted to hear from her for sooooo long!  So I was torn.  I knew this church was bad news, but I liked the change in my sister since she had started going to it.  Talk about feeling confused!

But I didn’t have to feel confused for too long because a time came where she decided to "take a break" from the church.  And everything that man my Dad and Pam had talked to said came true.  She fell, and she fell hard.  She started drinking and getting out of control again.  She started dating a guy who was abusive.  She called me in tears one day, crying about how her life was such a mess since she had left the church, and that she wondered if they would "take her back."  Again I ask….what kind of church does one have to worry about whether or not it’ll "take you back?"  None!  But she didn’t go back, and she continued to spiral downward.  And the selfishness I had detested in her came raging back….worse than ever.

While living in Minnesota I met a man named Jason and after dating for almost three years (during which time I was finally able to divorce Sterling) we got married.  J was only 1 when Jason and I got together, and he always, with no provocation from either me or Jason, called Jason daddy.  And Jason and his family……wow, I can’t even describe how incredibly wonderful they were to me and J, right from the very beginning.  They always called J their grandson….never "our son’s girlfriend’s son" or something stupid like that.  And Jason’s mom and I 

were sooooo close.  She had three sons and no daughters, so I became the daughter she never had.  They are truly a wonderful family, and I feel blessed to have been a part of it for a period of time, and even more blessed that my son is still a part of it. 

But anyway, when Jason and I got married Stacey was still living in Minnesota so of course she was my maid of honor.  I only had two bridesmaids….Stacey and a friend named Judy…..because this was my second wedding, and even though my first marriage was a Justice of the Peace thing, I still wanted a "real" wedding this time.  The wedding went off without a hitch…..J, who was four, and Chelsea, Jason’s cousin’s daughter, who was 3, stole the show…lol.  They were so cute as the ring bearer and flower girl!!  The reception afterwards was a lot of fun as well, even though Stacey and Judy left early to go bar-hopping.  I wasn’t happy about it, but wasn’t going to let it spoil the day.  Then Jason and I went home and Jason’s parents took J home with them so Jason and I could have our wedding night alone.  We weren’t going on a honeymoon for a few more months.

Several hours after Jason and I got home and were already asleep in bed, we both woke up when we heard someone in the house.  Jason got out of bed, threw some clothes on and walked into the living room to find my sister making out with some guy she had picked up at a bar.  She had picked up some stranger at a bar and brought him TO OUR HOUSE, on our wedding night!!!  Jason was livid!  He told the guy to get the hell out of our house, then came storming into our bedroom and told me "I want her out of here right now!"  I was FURIOUS at her for doing this on my wedding night, of all nights!  I got dressed and went into the living room, where she was laying on the couch, to talk to her.  It became obvious about 30 seconds later that she was drunk.  Great….just fucking great.  So I went back into the bedroom and told Jason that we couldn’t make her leave for a couple of reasons.  First, she was drunk, and I was not going to make her leave my house and drive drunk and possibly kill herself or someone else.  And second, we couldn’t call anyone to come get her cuz it was 2:00 in the moning and everyone was asleep.  Trust me, I didn’t do this for her.  If it had been any earlier, or if she hadn’t been so drunk, I would have personally kicked her ass out of my house, no question about it. 

The next day she got up early and went back to her own apartment, which was about an hour and a half away.  My Dad and Pam came by before heading to the airport and I told them what had happened the night before.  Why did I tell them?  I don’t know….several reasons, I guess.  I wanted my Dad and Pam to know she was getting out of control again, I was still furious with her, and I guess I also wanted my Dad to chew her out, since I hadn’t been able to.  Childish, I know.  But Dad and Pam did stop by her apartment before they went to the airport and he did let her have it.  Of course she hated me for that for a while.  Oh well.

A year after we got married, Jason and I and J moved to Evansville, Indiana, where I have tons of family.  I wanted a change, and I was missing my family, so off we went.  Of course, Stacey also ended up there.  Honestly, I couldn’t escape her….lol.  While living in Evansville Stacey was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, put on medication, and told that she absolutely COULD NOT drink or do drugs, or else the bipolar medication wouldn’t be effective….period!  And I think for a little while she did okay.  She started dating and then became engaged to a man named Brian, whom I didn’t like at all, but if he made my sister happy, good on ya!  She was working a full-time job and a part-time job, and she seemed happy.  She still had this "I’m better than you" attitude, but I was used to that and pretty much ignored it.  The only reason during this time she and I would get into it is when she felt the need to criticize my parenting.  I’m sorry, but until you’ve raised, or help raise a child, don’t you DARE criticize my parenting!  I never claimed to be a perfect mother, and I know I made mistakes, but no child was ever loved as much as that little boy and no way in hell was she going to tell me how I should be doing things, or point out everything she felt I was doing wrong.  Her asshole fiancee Brian was behind some of it, I later found out.  He told my sister he didn’t feel I was a good mother and she, of course, agreed with him.  Fuck you both, thank you very much.

Eventually Brian and Stacey broke up, and that was when we all found out he had been physically abusive to her.  I knew he was an asshole!  But the thought of someone putting their hands on my baby sister in an abusive way drove me insane with anger!  HOW DARE HE???  My sister may not have been perfect, but she worked two jobs, she LOVED him, and she put up with his mother’s bullshit….and trust me, Brian’s mother was a nut job of the highest order.  She once accused my sister of having a baby….that baby being J, MY son…..and giving him to me to raise so she wouldn’t have to be bothered…LMAO!!!!  Can you friggin’ believe that shit??  I’m telling you, the woman was insane!  But they were broken up, I was happy, and Stacey moved into her own place.  And the partying got more frequent. 

I can’t even tell you how many places my sister lived while she was in Evansville.  She would get her own place, then decide to move in with a friend, then she and said friend would get into it, so she would move into her own place again, then move in with yet another friend, etc., etc..  Every time Stacey tried living with someone else, it NEVER worked out….never!  They would get into it eventually…..it was a fact of life.  But she kept doing it….and kept losing friends.  She never learned.

So while we were living in Evansville our mom would come visit frequently because she only lived 6 hours away at the time.  I loved it because J adored his Nana and loved being around her.  But Stacey…..not so much.  Remember how I told you she hated sharing our mother’s attention with me?  Well, just imagine how she felt having to share it with J….our mother’s only grandchild, and pretty much the light of her life.  She hated it….with a passion!  One weekend my mom was visiting and me, Stacey, J, our mom and our granny all piled into Stacey’s car and went yard-saling.  While we were out my sister brought up her recent visit to my house and how my house had been a mess while she was there.  I admit it….it was.  It wasn’t nasty dirty….it was messy.  Shit needed to be picked up and put away….stuff like that.  But she took it further, started chewing me out for "living like a slob when we weren’t raised like that" and talking about how she was "so sick of it that everyone’s afraid t

o say anything to me about it" and on and on and on.  I was crying, J put his little hand on my leg and whispered to me not to cry while shooting my sister a "fuck off and die": look" even though at 6 he didn’t know that…lol….my mom told my sister to stop being so cruel and my granny was pissed off that we were all fighting and told us to take her home.  The thing is, we had all been getting along so great, and then Stacey just went off…..completely out of the blue.  And unfortunately, this started happening more and more often…..to the point that I hated being around her or even talking to her because you never knew, from one minute to the next, whether she was going to hug you or tear you a new one.  I didn’t know it at the time, but that’s a HUGE sign of uncontrolled bipolar disorder….which means she was either not taking her meds, was drinking while taking them, or not taking them AND drinking. 

And things continued to go downhill…….

More to come.