Families logo

Not Quite Nelly 4

or where I whine and complain way too much about things I cannot control. I don't want to edit it either so what you get is what you get.

By Guenneth SpeldrongPublished 2 years ago 15 min read
Not Quite Nelly 4
Photo by Robbie Down on Unsplash

The first emotion I experienced when I heard my sister was getting out of the mental institution was absolute fear.

My sister terrifies me. I know this, but I try to pretend it's not true. Because I love her.

She has always hated me. I have almost no good memories of her, and the ones I have are only good because we were able to share stories of horribly painful things.

Even though she was the older sister, she did nothing to stop the abuse we suffered. She protected herself, of course, but never us. It was MY job to protect my older and younger sister. I was fine with it, though, since neither of them seemed capable of protecting me or themselves at all.

My mother always told me my sister was jealous of how "close" we were. It wasn't until I was an adult that I understood my mom believed my sister was jealous that she was molesting me and not her.

What my sister suffered alone for 2 years with my mom must have been horrible. What I saw was pretty bad, and my mom had 3 of us to spread her disease to.

My sister sure hated me and our mother. She seemed ambivalent towards Katie. I could see why she hated mom, but why me? I was the one who stopped her from bleeding to death TWICE. I made sure there was food, to the best of my ability. I made sure we got enough sleep and were clean.

I DID pick fights with her at times, bit that was when I noticed mom touching Katie. I did NOT want my sister being molested too. No, it needed to stop with me.

But I was the only one who supported her. When she made fudge with salt instead of sugar, mom yelled at her and she cried, so I ate 3 whole pieces of that disgusting candy and told her it was delicious, and she did well. I complimented her art. I pretended my favorite color was pink so she could have blue (my actual favorite color). I told her she was great at everything she did.

I supported her the way my mother should have.

All the while, my mother was ignoring us, leaving us in random places like movie theaters and AA coffee houses (my favorite was being locked in a storage unit. I always had things to play with there at least.) Jaynelle was almost never with us. My mom said she was out with friends. I really hope she was.

But, man, my sister tormented me. She would cut me, hit me, take my things, scream at me for no reason, destroy anything I cherished...all while I loved and cared for her.

Dad marrying Lori only helped fuel her hatred. She had "bully buddies" after that. She laughed while they abused me. She helped them bully me, too. She would go through my room and give my diary to my stepmother us so she can laugh while I was punished. She took anything she wanted. She was just...horrible.

When I tried to run away, she helped bring me back. Then she left the same day I was kicked out, both of us moving into mom's.

Then I never got a moments peace. She wouldn't even let me sleep or eat. She convinced my mom to ground me for no reason. I left a week later, unable to handle the abuse.

I was raped that very night, losing my virginity in a violent act on my 14th birthday. I tried to come back but both my mom and my sister screamed at me until I left with no shoes (because my sister and mom wouldn't let me have them).

I moved in with my friend who let me stay if I helped take care of her siblings, which I did as best I could for a couple of months. I was raped here, too...the guy (my friends friend I guess) said he would hurt the kids if I didn't submit. So I did. Then the mothers boyfriend kicked me out one night without reason.

So I was homeless. I had a...hard time. I drank a lot. I was raped yet another time by a guy who worked at Taco Bell. He liked to feed homeless girls, and he slipped me some drug. I woke up I'm a strange place, with my pants next to me.

I was just happy it was me and not the two 12 year old's that were with me. I was pretty sure I was garbage, and I was soiled goods anyway. So it was ok.

My sisters were better off than I was, too, so I was happy. The streets were much better than life with either mother anyway. I tried to check in with Jaynelle but she wasn't interested. I saw Katie at school and let her know I was always here for her. She ignored me too.

I was too hungry and tired to care that they were uninterested in my suffering. Life was hard, but freeing. After 2 years on the streets I was finally 16 and old enough to get a job. A friend found me and moved me in, and life was slightly better after that. I worked, went to school, and stopped saying no to men I had no interest in so it didn't hurt so bad to have sex. I worked very hard to better my circumstances with little or no help from my family.

I think I digress a bit too much. Anyways, the point is I never had the support I gave.

Nothing has changed, 40 years later.

I still don't matter at all to my sisters. I'm still afraid of my older sister. I will still do anything for both of them regardless of this. I have spent multiple thousands I don't have to help them and they are mad I didn't spend more. My younger sister is mad I didn't stay and keep taking abuse for her. My older is mad at all the success from my hard work. They are not sad for my pain and happy for my successes. Seriously, they aren't interested in me except what I can do for them. It is never enough either.

How successful might I have been with just a small fraction of love and care from even one of them? What is the point of scrimping and saving, denying myself anything nice, just so my family can take my money in an "emergency" situation? Half the time they just waste it. Where was the concern for me when I was raising a daughter on nothing and they were out enjoying concerts and fancy clothes and nice restaurants?

I wish I could be happy my sister was out. Instead, I get to feel intense terror on hearing my sister is out of the hospital. I knew she would be coming here and that she would be furious with me. I knew she would cost us even more money. I knew she wasn't ready to be out.

I had done nothing wrong, but I knew it didn't matter. My little sister was already furious with me for doing all the work in caring for Jaynelle (apparently doing a shitty job, she says).

I just...could do nothing right no matter how hard I try.

I am just babbling and whining here, so I'll just get back to the story...

Jaynelle leaves the hospital, and I immediately hear how terrible I am. How bad of a job I did. She complained about how full I packed the car, then complained that there wasn't enough in it. She accused me of stealing and selling her stuff, trying to exert control over her. Her dumb friend Kelly (the one who isolated her from her family and left her to die alone in a cold house with no water), called me crazy half a dozen times while also asking me for help.

They, of course, were driving over Deadman pass during a blizzard at night with almost no plan on what to do when they got to Spokane. Of course, they were able to do this because I filled their tank with gas, and Kelsie gave her money. Talk about crazy.

They get into town and I go to sleep. I, of course, wake up to drama. Jaynelle has yelled at everyone, manipulating money out of all of them on false pretenses. She complains that all the clothes I packed for her are ripped and dirty... all THREE suitcases. She wants to know where her computer is, her mail is, her soap and shampoo is. The answer to everything is in the car. Kelsie and I thought of pretty much everything.

But it wasn't enough. She needed more, and ended up with $700 in her pocket and her phone and pills paid for on top of that. She wanted to buy more clothes with that, I guess.

I had packed up a house full of things nicer than I could ever hope to own, paying out all of my savings to do so, and she has done nothing but call me names, and badmouth me to my family. She was terrified that I would sell her things (and honestly I should have, because why should 4 people empty their bank accounts to protect the things of someone who will never, ever pay us back even one cent much less be grateful), but I didn't. I really do wish I did, because why should that money come from us? All these things she has been able to afford because she has no trouble taking and stealing from others are now protected for her, and she has done literally nothing for them.

(My little sister has not been great with me about money either. No where near as bad, of course. But I have gotten a slew of guilt trips and anger because I did not have the money for travel. She also very much enjoys the finer things in life, and I can not afford to do those things with her. Of course, she pays for those things by cutting corners in other places...but it is still a huge problem for me that I always make her angry when I can't go visit her for a fun trip, but I can "afford to take my husband to another city for a surgery", or when I tell her I cannot afford to go to a fancy restaurant and she makes me go anyways, then makes me pay. Or when I tell her I am an alcoholic and cannot drink, but she makes me go to a bar and then makes me buy drinks that we "share".)

My dad needs to retire. I would like to buy a house. My niece and daughter have lives ahead of them to plan. We don't need this.

She told everyone all these lies about me, on top of everything else. My daughter questioned me, wondering if it were true. My dad knew better.

I finally got Kelly to speak to me like a normal human being, so I drove out on my only day off in 3 weeks to deliver my sisters computer. I guess we forgot the docking station? I don't know, but I'm sure Jaynelle thought I did it on purpose.

I was told dad gave Jaynelle a list of things to do while he went away for a vacation, namely get on welfare. Jaynelle then decided to move in to dads house and forbid anyone to come over. That made it hard for me to watch his cat, which I promised to do...

She said she would watch the cat. We knew she wouldn't. It was a good thing, then, that Jaynelle decided she needed a servant so took advantage of my daughter to do so. Aislynn then got to come over and check on her and the kitty.

24 hours into monopolizing my dad's apartment she started freaking out again, threatening to give away her dogs and move into a shelter. Turns out she didn't like dads cat, so Aislynn moved the cat out of his own house into hers.

So the Jaynelle take over was compete. Dad wouldn't be home in 4 more days, and we had no idea what she would do next.

I mean, we all understood why she wanted alone time...but man was she being an asshole to everyone around her. We were all bending over backwards for her, and she was repaying us by being nasty.

It became more and more obvious that she had lied to get out of the hospital. She wasn't well enough to handle the world.

Since I was talking to my little sister again, about my older sister of course, I took a deep breath and decided to ask her to apologize for being mean to me. (If you missed it in the last episode, Katie had told me I was doing a terrible job when I was just trying to do the best I could.)

She refused, of course. I mean, I had apologized several times even though she was clearly reading too much into what I said, but she couldn't be bothered despite the fact that she was clearly TRYING to hurt me.

I was just nothing to her. To either of them. Just a punching bag I guess?

Please, thank you, and sorry were taught in Kindergarten, right? And not just to me? It basic human interaction, last I checked. I know these people can say it, and often do...just not ever to me. What am I supposed to deduce but that they don't feel like I am worthy of such human kindness that even toddlers are capable of?

My brain always tells me it's because I fundamentally do not matter.

Because I was taught that I didn't, and my sisters reinforce that notion.

They just keep doing it too.

I have worked so hard, from literally nothing, and am finally making something of myself. I have my own desk, and just got a nameplate on the 1/4 of an office corner. I am moving up in the world , finally making a decent living in a job I love. There is no one in my family, except my father, who can celebrate my accomplishments.

How many rape victim alcoholic teen mothers do YOU know who make something of themselves? Exactly. I have done AMAZING things with almost nothing. The people in my life only seek to bring me down, make me feel like nothing, take all my money, and mock me for everything I do. They seem to live to see me as a pathetic mess.

That's why I have to call my self crazy, or stupid, or trash. It's why I have to apologize for doing nothing wrong. It's why I have to stroke the egos of people who don't care about me.

These people get to scream and cry and lie and steal, and they get everything they could possibly want... except maybe self respect. But who needs self respect when you have some garbage person you can kick from time to time?

I just hate how everyone bends to the will of these terrible people, and I am supposed to just...what? Keep taking their abuse? Yeah, I am. Because even the people who actually support me say it is my duty to care for them, and do what they say, in order to keep the peace. Don't take it personally, I am told...but how can I not? It is all so very personal. They make sure it is.

It's not just me, either. They treat my husband like he's nothing, but at least they are civil to him when they must interact. My little sister even told me he doesn't deserve to live because he eats meat (this was when he was dying, of course) They treat my father like a piggy bank; they don't care that he is old and sick and needs to retire. They treat my daughter like a servant, and put her in dangerous situations. They treat Kelsie like a toy to be used. It's not ok.

Does the "take care of family" rule apply when your family is just plain horrible to you? When there is no good times, only bad? When they use you and spit you out, over and over again?

My dad, who means well I must say, wants me to continue to "turn the other cheek", or to not let it get to me, or to not take it personally. I really do see the wisdom in that...but I wish he could understand; that is what I have been doing my whole life. I make excuses for them, I forgive their selfish cruelty. I forgive them for not knowing who I am, or caring about me at all. Because I have done this, they have learned to act this way. There will never be any end to this hell unless I stand up to them. I know this will break a peace I have worked hard to achieve...but is it really peace for ME? Or is it just peace for them? I know the answer...but what is the solution? Should I just do what dad says, and keep the status quo? Or should I stand up for myself, making my life for everyone more difficult for the time being?

Am I worth the stress and hassle? I think I'm not, but I guess I just want someone I love to tell me that I AM worth it.

...Maybe 40 years is enough to spend on someone who doesn't care about you?


About the Creator

Guenneth Speldrong

Hello there. I write things. Sometimes good things. Mostly, I write to find myself. If I can entertain you in the process, then that's just the derivative icing on the proverbial cake!

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.