Nancy spent a half-hour on my blog last night, then another half-hour this morning. She checked out the first 4 of the dozen links to old entries pertaining to her, but I was surprised to find she hadn’t returned when I got up at 7pm. I can’t believe she would decide not to check out the rest of it, so could she be viewing me undetected?

It was so funny cuz after I’d see her read an entry, I would turn around and mark it private. That way if she returned to them she’d wonder where the hell they went. I can’t swear the person who spent an hour on my blog was Nancy, but who else would it be? Also, if both sisters live in Indiana, why did one come up as being in Michigan while the other was in Illinois? They must be very close to where the borders of Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin and Indiana almost meet.

I unblocked them curious to see if they wrote anything about me on their walls. I didn’t see anything. I was, however, surprised to see the links I put on the sister’s wall still there. I deleted them for the hell of it, but I don’t think that deletes them from her POV.

Since it’s all a matter of public info, though I won’t share any links even though there were share options available, I saw that Nancy only got a year for assault and not the 3-8 she feared she’d get. This kind of pisses me off. That’s just 6 more months than I got for a fictitious letter. How the hell do you get off in just a year for assaulting a cop anyway?

She got in trouble in 2007 too, for trafficking a controlled substance. It was her first offense for that one, I guess. This was in New Mexico. Her general info and her PO were listed, but then it just said, “discharged.” How do you get “discharged” from trafficking???

Got a 5-minute VM from Tammy. LOL, on the phone she’s like I am in print. She talks, I write. Her message was a mixture of sad and funny. It was funny because Mark, who’s been picking up her messages while she’s been sick, was confused by my saying that I hope to get the “poodle’s” money soon (Walter’s meeting with a CPA soon but doesn’t yet know how much income tax will be due). I’ve been referring to Dad as the enabler and Mom as the poodle since those were what she favored most in life, and as Tammy said, a female poodle is a bitch and Mom was a bitch after all.

What’s sad is that she’s still sick and no one knows why. Tom and I hope and believe that sooner or later they’ll stumble onto whatever it is and be able to treat it. Maybe not cure it, but make it more livable.

She said that they were all sitting at the table in Longmeadow talking after I jumped out the window and she assured them that if they sent me to one more place – just one more – she’d see to it that she got me the hell out of there. She apologized for not realizing just what was going on and all that and not being there, but as I told her, I felt bad that she felt so left in the dark and helpless as to my situation back then, but please, please don’t! She had her own shit to deal with at the time to be bothering with me. I guess it’s only natural for one to feel that way about their little sister once they grow older, smarter and more mature and are able to look back and see the big picture that they couldn’t see before. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but one day in my 20s it hit me and I said to myself, “What the hell were those fucking parents of mine thinking by sending me back to a place I had just killed myself trying to escape?!”

What really burned me up was those saying I jumped just for attention, and I was like, yo, hello folks, isn’t a 20-foot drop a bit risky for “attention?” But you know how the attitudes were back then. Sometimes it still is, but not as bad as the 80s. Nothing I did be it jumping, cutting, starving or popping pills was for attention. Those aren’t the kinds of things kids do for attention. No one throws themselves out a window for attention any more than they would if they were happy and in great spirits. In truth, I actually wasn’t thinking, “I’m going to kill myself or I’m going to do this, this or that.” I just panicked. I’ll never forget that day. I remember April 12th, 1983 like it was just yesterday. It was just horrible. I knew I was going to do something stupid, something I couldn’t help, and something I would regret. I had the fleeting thought of reaching out to someone there but knew it wouldn’t do me any good. Next thing I know, I’m on the dresser, the screen’s yanked out, and down I go. I’d be dead or had a lot more than a broken arm if there hadn’t been an overhang about 8’ down. It helped break and slow down my fall a bit, but I will never forget the moment I hit the ground. The breath was literally knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe for a good 30 seconds or so, then I started screaming. I even remember little details – the yellow curtain billowing out the window in the breeze, losing my beaded necklace and one shoe… I remember the way they ordered me not to move and put the neck brace on me as they placed me on the board and all that shit.

It was just as bad going back there a few weeks later what with how I was ostracized and made to feel ashamed for my actions instead of helped and supported. Know the first thing out of the bitch’s mouth when it came to see me in the hospital? “Try it again. Maybe you’ll succeed next time.”

No joke. True story.

I didn’t know about that discussion they had in Longmeadow. I thanked her for sticking up for me. They really were obsessed with the idea of shipping me off to all kinds of places – camps, funny farms, foster homes, schools run like prisons – am I missing anything? Oh, yeah, about a year or two after I went out on my own they wanted to get me into some kind of group home down in Florida. Gotta wonder what the hell went through their minds. Was it just funny to them? Or did they really think I was just that fucked in the head?