I cried alot today as I packed up a box for my mom. I included a video of my fathers funeral. I stole his ashes and had him buried at sea with the navy after I found him being used as a door stopper. I took a badly damaged photo of him, and had it restored and sent it with him to the funeral. Why did I send my mom a copy of this? because it clearly shows the photo she claims I stole in 2009 sitting on the table beside my fathers ashes in 1996. The navy did a beautiful service and gave me a video of it. I have provided my mother with no less than 4 copies of it, and my sister keeps taking it. I included several framed photos that included one of my mother when she was 19. One of my grandmother on her honeymoon. (what a hottie!) several of my sister and my mom together, and the framed photo that my mother swears I stole from her. I also included trinkets she gave me over the years. Salvation army trinkets, but they were special to me.

I counted it up and thru the last 30 years I have given out more than $175,000 in money to bail out my sister, my mother and their antics. I have filled oil tanks only to see the stuff sold off by the gallon. Paid off pharmacy bills so the kids could have meds, only to find out my sister got cigarettes and cough syrup on the bill. Clothing for kids to find the neighbors bought them cheaply. Electric bills long past due and electric extension cords being sold to the neighbor to pay for their AC. Food from the local store only to find it was used to barter for cigarettes. I have paid for my moms meds only to find she was giving them to my sister to keep her from detoxing. I have bought home after home for my mother only to find she had to leave those homes when my sister would crash with strange men and my mom was afraid. Lets not even count the vacuums I have bought.

So, I ended it with an act of kindness. A box full of photos that were lovingly restored, and framed. A letter letting her know how deeply she wounded me, and that strangers think more highly of me than my own mother. That I shant be calling, writing or sending any more checks, or items. This is the last box, and I send it with love and well wishes. I pray she is treated more kindly in her life, than she treated me in mine. I sealed the box and tomorrow shall send it with the same loving wishes that she truly be well cared for. It just wont be by my hand.

I am tired of being beaten. I am tired of having venom sprayed in my eyes. I am tired of being handcuffed then yelled at for not sticking out my hand. so...God Bless my mother. she is gonna need it without me there to catch her, or wipe her tears when it falls apart at the hands of my drug addicted, bi polar sister, and her socially anxious, bi polar child. I fear it wont be long before my mother is in a nursing home, and my sis will pick the cheapest one. She will forget to visit, and wont bring treats when she does. My mother will simply slip off into the madness of her own imagination, and wont allow anyone to come near to comfort or be comforted. So....thats all I can do.

I am the child. not the parent. I am the wounded child who took up the responsibilties of the adult and lost my childhood for it. I think I have given from a dry cup long enough.

Thank you for all of the love and support both public and private, this truly is a wonderful group, and its my mother who shall miss out on a wonderful woman who really loved her.