In January of this year I moved in with my younger sister and her family. Reader's Digest version? It was a bad situation, the building was bought by new owners who moved in thugs and mental patients and forced out older residents so that they could jack up the rent and move in even more people whose rent was paid by churches and social agencies. I was grateful to my sister for taking me in. Even though I work part-time, I pay rent, I contribute food and household supplies. I do chores around the house.
I have plans in motion to move out before the end of the year. I've had it. One of the biggest problems is my sister's 30 year old daughter. She's bi-polar, takes two meds for it, but half the time she feels she doesn't need those meds, so she doesn't take them. She spends her money on Harry Potter and Wii games. She has a history of going off her meds and becoming violent. She's fought her mother and her father. The police have been called. Last week she decided not to take her meds and she went to the adult day care she attends. She fought two people on the bus, cussed out the director of the program and tried to fight her mother when she showed up after the center called her. She comes home, goes up to her room, isolates herself from the rest of the family. She has to be called down to eat and after she eats she goes right back upstairs and listens to her music or plays her games. She doesn't bathe and she does chores around the house only when threatened. She steals everything that isn't nailed down. I hide my belongings. I keep what I really treasure in boxes that are taped shut.
My sister (I'll call her Vivian) came into my room this morning and told me that "this thing between me and the daughter (I'll call her Abby) has got to stop." I told her I didn't know what she was talking about. We don't say anything to each other. I've walked through Abby's room and said hello, and she's ignored me. And she didn't have her headphones on. I've seen Abby stand there and stare at me long and hard as if she's waiting for me to say hello first. I don't say anything. Yes, I have a stubborn streak too.
This morning Abby went to her mom and bitterly complained about me. I keep her up at night. I put another curtain on the doorway between our rooms, just to block out the light even more. I don't stay up all night. That doesn't satisfy her. Of course, if Abby would stop playing that stupid handheld Wii game in bed at 2 in the morning maybe she could get some sleep. She says I disrespect her because I don't speak first. I make noise. I use headphones when I listen to my music.
Of course, this morning Abby got up in one of her moods. She blasted her tv (I couldn't hear it because I had in ear plugs) so loud it woke her mom up. She stomped through the house, slammed doors, snarled at her mom. I asked Vivian if Abby was on her meds, and she said yes. But Vivian always buys those meds. Abby doesn't, and she won't tell anyone that she's out. Each prescription is only 3 bux each. It's not like she has to take out a loan to get them filled.
I've had it. I feel like I'm being held responsible for this girl's mental problems. I knew she had emotional problems before I moved in, but I had no idea they were this bad. Now Vivian tells me I HAVE TO reach out to Abby. "We can't have that sort of thing in this house."
WHAT sort of thing? I'm not Dr. Phil. Vivian's shifting responsibility for Abby's illness onto me.
When I go home this afternoon I am going to get the two of them together and tell Abby: "If I speak to you and you don't speak, then that tells me that you don't want to talk, and I will ignore you. There have been times when I've seen you stare at me long and hard, and you don't say a word. You're not a kid. You're a grown woman. Wouldn't kill you to say Hello when you see me. I've said Hello when I walk through your room, and you ignore me. And you don't have your headphones on, either. Now when this happens again, and it will happen again before I move out, don't complain about it. I'm not responsible for your moods."
If I could move out tomorrow, I would. When I do move out I'm changing my phone number and I will make sure they don't know where I moved to. And if I had known about all this crazy stuff before I would have rented a room somewhere and called it a day. I turned my three cats in to the Humane Society. That's what really ticks me off. Those cats were loyal to me, they loved me, and I had to give them up only to put up with this kind of crazy human crap? I feel like I betrayed them. I'm not too fond of humans right now. And if you finished this thing I apologize for the rant.