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Kelley Sucks-I’ll Bring the Clam Dip

Riddle me this…what chance did I have at confidence and security, not to mention “success” in general, with a mother capable of this?  The “funniest” thing—my ex husband loathed my mother.  And I’m not the only one he made that clear to.  Just ask his former mistress.  She’ll tell you he talked about her from time to time, when he talked about me, and had nothing nice to say about her.  When we were married, he protected me from her abuse as much as he could. When we separated, well, that changed.  And he did it to hurt me. To egg her on. So think about it… if the two of them are willing to have conversations like this about the mother of his children (her grandchildren’s mother), what do you think they are willing to say and do to ruin me to my kids? I’m going out on a limb, but I think perhaps they did and are doing a substantial amount of damage to the most important human relationship known to man (mother and child).  So far, between Kristen, my mom, and my ex-husband, can you see how maybe, just maybe, I might be, I don’t know, upset?  And is it a wonder that I was in a “relationship” with Mr. Piggy for 6 years, willing to endure his abuse?  Where the hell could I possibly have turned or gone?  The betrayal just won’t end.  And it’s undeserved and completely sick. At this point, I expect nothing more from people than kicks in general and even more of them when I’m down.  

Life-Saving Treatment

There’s a life-saving treatment for me that my dear, caring sister enthusiastically and so very generously offered to pay for that would be life-changing. According to Kristen, this “treatment”  or “professional help” will ensure that my children (for she has convinced them that I need this “treatment” before they should talk to me again (my kids haven’t spoken to me for months, now)). In fact, last time I spoke to my oldest son he said, “I won’t talk to you until you get treatment” and a few other questionable things. I asked, of course, what kind of treatment is required. He said, “that’s for you to figure out”. Kristen said the same thing to me a month earlier than my son did. Odd, isn’t it? This treatment, she insinuates, will also entitle me to my Aunt Janet’s (the one who threatened to call the police while I was sitting next to my dying mother) love and kindness and the love of “everyone”.  Who doesn’t want to be loved?  Perhaps if I had this “professional help” long ago, I wouldn’t have been disinherited nor “pre-deceased” my mom. Nor would I have spent 6 years in a relationship with an abusive in every-possible-way ani-man-girl (a living thing who’s part animal, part man, and part girl) Oh well.  Next time.

But here’s yet another Kosher pickle—she seems to have changed her mind about this life-saving and life-changing treatment.  So now, I guess, I will be forever alone. No kids. No relatives. Nothin. Nada. I will remain unworthy of my sister’s, my Aunt’s, my children’s, and “everyone’s” love, a real rotten place to be. Trust me…I know. So now what?  I’m at a loss.

Also, my sister refuses to reveal to me what genre, if you will, of professional help I need in order to have love, care and respect from my children and love and support from the rest of my family…and “everyone”. If I don’t know what kind of help I need to ensure my mental and emotional safety, comfort, and health, what am I to do? Also she is now refusing to pay for this life-saving treatment. I’m sad. I’m confused. I’m not understanding why she is now not going to help me become a person worthy of love.

I’d like to add that most”professionals” in the mental and emotional health field who are schooled in NPD would consider Kristen’s behavior, in this particular instance, as “moving the goal post”. If you’re familiar with NPD, you will “hear” another manipulative tactic used by narcissists which I will address shortly. If you figure out what it is, be the first to post a comment with the correct answer and you can win a giftcard!

Abusive narcissists and sociopaths employ a logical fallacy known as “moving the goal post” in order to ensure that they have every reason to be perpetually dissatisfied with you…By raising the expectations higher and higher each time or switching them completely, highly manipulative and toxic people are able to instill in you a pervasive sense of unworthiness and of never feeling quite “enough.”…They get you thinking about the next expectation of theirs you’re going to have to meet – until eventually you’ve bent over backwards trying to fulfill their every need – only to realize it didn’t change the horrific way they treated you.

 

The above is from this article here.

Kristen, me, my newborn, my mom, my Grandma Helen, and my Aunt Janet. Agoura Hills. 1996

Disinherited Siblings and Congratulations Kristen!

On August 5, 2021, my step-sister and I got together to read our parents’ wills. It didn’t surprise me. After all, during my mother’s short illness, death, and after, I put the entire puzzle together. When my sister went nuts when I showed up a day early to see and visit and love my dying mother, yelling at me and berating me (because I came a day early) at my childhood home, including very loudly in the driveway for all the neighbors to hear and in front of my 22 year old special needs son, she does this. I didn’t know why. I figured it was for “control”. I was wrong. The next day, when I got to see and talk to my mom, Kristen made me leave at the same time she did, not wanting to leave me alone with my mom (for fear that my mother would change her will-which is how I know my mother had already expressed that she wanted to to my sister and my Aunt Janet). Kristen went absolutely nuts. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen yelling at me to leave, doubled over with anger saying, “Get out of my house”. The look on her face was pure evil. She was so ugly. Inside and out. Just ugly beyond your imagination. Of course, I left, because I did not want anything at all to upset my dying mother. I stopped at my friend’s house a half a mile down the road and told her the happenings as I also did the day before. She said, “Kelley, could this be about the will?” I immediately said, “No way”. I’m incredibly naive (if I wasn’t, none of this would have happened to begin with). The next day I saw my mom and was forced to leave…again. I didn’t want it to be the last time I saw my mom. I drove home to Sacramento. For two days I cried, thought, laid under the sun. Under the hot sun, it donned on me…Holy Shit–this is all about the will! My thought was that my mom is literally dying around people (my sister, my aunt and uncle, and my brother-in-law) that do NOT care about my mom’s emotional, mental, and probably physical well-being in a holy and G-dly way. I was not going to let my mom die that way, around such fucking evil. So I went back, unannounced, while texting the hospice lady (I’ll tell you how I accidentally got her phone number in a later post and I will also post some of the texts). I arrived and thank G-d I was allowed in (I’ll write about that, too). I sat beside my mother who was lying on her left side with her tiny, oval head sort-of wedged between the bed rails in a partial fetal position. Eyes closed. I put my right hand on her forehead and my left hand on top of her hand. I told her I loved her and that I’m sorry I can’t stay and rub her feet–and show her the love I ached to shower on her my whole life. My Aunt was 5 feet away glaring at me the entire time–and then my brother-in-law and his mother showed up and both of them, one after the other, physically grabbed me and tried to pull me off of the chair and said I have to go. My aunt threatened to call the police. I looked at the hospice lady, we will call her Mary, and she looked at me–as she tried desperately to help me and my mom. She’s a hospice nurse. This is not what she normally sees. Most people want love and peace around a dying mother. Not my family. They are evil. Absolutely evil.

This video is my step-sister and I on August 5, 2021, reading the wills…for the first time…

Playing in the Grass

If you look at this video real close, you might notice a few important things.  You can see my sister looking to see where I am.  You will also notice that she has short hair, too.  And you’ll see her whispering something in my ear that was upsetting because part of it is edited out. I think she said, “I’m going to crush you.” Kristen did not have her hair cut because my mother wanted us both to have ridiculous hair.  Only I wasn’t allowed to have long, pretty hair.  My sister’s hair was cut because she got gum in it. My mom cut off her hair as sort of a punishment for getting gum in it and she screamed and cried.  I was very little so you might wonder how I can remember such detail. The fact is, I can’t.  But our older step-sister was there and witnessed all of it.  By “all of it” I mean all of it, not just the hair cuts. 

You’re a Good Daughter

Do you want to hear something interesting? Okay, good, because I want to tell it.

When my mother’s “Celebration of Life” was scheduled, my sister called me to tell me when it is.  She told me nothing else.  I know my mom pretty well so I made the decision to wear a bright yellow dress (yellow was my mom’s favorite color).  I show up at my childhood home where the event was held.  Everyone was in a bright color.  Very few were in black.  I was outside in front of the house when another lady was walking in.  I greeted her and she mentioned that they were all informed that party-goers were asked to wear something bright and/or asian themed.  My sister didn’t say one word about the dress code to me.  I wore yellow because my gut said so, not giving any thought to what other people will be wearing.  When the lady told me the dress code,  I realised instantly why Kristen didn’t mention it.  I showed up in my awesome yellow dress and she was quite annoyed by that.  I also was not told about speeches.  I didn’t prepare one.  But many people talked, including my sister and for a very long time, she spoke.  And so did I, impromptu and unprepared.  Imagine doing that when almost everyone there has been told lies about you and they’re all looking at you with unnecessary and unwarranted daggers in their eyes, including my own children! That’s the power of someone with NPD.  As I was talking, my sister instructed someone to come and take the mic from me, even though I spoke for much less time than my sister or the others. And she did just that. You can see it on the video.  The speeches will be posted soon…

Before I go, I want to tell you one of my mom’s last words to me.  She said, as I was kneeling on the floor next to her hospital-style bed in the family room, the same bed my step-dad died in 6 months earlier, with my hands on her dying body and my head hanging over her left side, “You’re a good daughter.”  She maybe even said, “You’re the good daughter”.  Either way, I waited for that for 50 years.  And I got it!

She said a few other interesting things which I will write about very soon, as well.

My Sister, Kristen

Whether or not my sister is aware of her affliction, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, DSM-IV, is up for debate.  She has been victimizIng me since the moment I was born.  Of course, I had no idea that her abuse of me is clinical.  I started “looking into it” 48 years later.  It was May, 2019.  I called her to suggest we get together for Father’s Day and go see our dad.  I don’t remember what she said—it was probably “maybe”.  I never heard from her nor did I proceed with any concrete plans.  Father’s day came and I called my dad.  He said nothing about where he was or what he was doing.  I wished him a happy father’s day and told him I love him.  A few days later, I learned that my sister and her family (my brother-in-law and my niece and nephew) whisked him and my step-mom off to an ocean front beach vacation weekend—to celebrate Father’s day.  Mind you, “things” like this happened periodically if not frequently throughout our years as adults.  I thought little of these get-togethers and trips that didn’t include me and not for long when I did.  So when this incident occurred, I was irritated by her thoughtlessness but not much more crossed my mind about it.  I called her and expressed my hurt and that was that.  I still had absolutely no idea the depths of her narcissism and her abuse of me.  My whole life I thought it was all my mother’s doing and that my sister was “an innocent, helpless bystander” in watching and witnessing my mother’s unnatural and unconscionable treatment of me.  In fact, I can prove that I had no idea my sister was behind most if not all of my heart-aches and breaks.  

This is part of an email I sent to my mother.  It was in response to one of the worst things she said (and did to me) in December, 2009 (which is the day I walked away from my mother and only seldom looked back).  I will write about this event in much more detail in the future.  But for now I will say that my sister had everything to do with this moment—but I had absolutely no idea. I even went to her immediately following this incident, in-person, for love, support, and a shoulder.  And she sure did give it to me!  Oh fuck she sure did. She paved for me her road of never talking to my mother again and being disinherited. Neither of which a daughter would ever want, naturally.  She may go down in history as the world’s most “successful” narcissistic sister…and the richest by means of my mother’s death.

My sister needed to win so bad that my brother-in-law and his 80-year-old mother were literally physically pulling me off and out of my dying mother’s arms because they were so afraid she was going to change her will.   Why were they so violent and fearful?  Because my mother, at the very least near the end, without a doubt and unequivocally, had voiced this to my sister, my brother-in-law, and my aunt and uncle during her last weeks. At this point I gave her will little to no thought so why this insane behaviour was happening in my mother’s house and within eyeshot and earshot of my dying mother, the house both my sister and I grew up in and where my mother died, was inexplicable. To say that I was confused and terrified is understated. It was unbelievable.  Things you would only expect to see in a movie.  But it happened.  It all happened and I will elaborate with fascinating detail in short order.

My mom died in June, 2021.  It was May, 2021 when I realised my sister is a master salesman of lies and a master triangulator and gaslighter.  

      This is a portion of the email I sent to my mother 10 months after the unspeakable and unnatural incident:  

      I will not share this story until K & P [my sister and her husband] are back from their trip.  She has a hard time with this stuff, she knows it’s all true, but it causes her grief.  She avoids grief and pain at all costs, that’s HER burden. She won’t even listen to sad songs, no matter how beautiful.  It bothers her deeply the pain you cause me.  With that, she HATES that I vomit it all up for the world to see and this is for two reasons; number 1: she thinks that if I stop thinking, talking, writing about it, my pain will go away (it won’t) and reason number 2: She doesn’t want people to know that her family is anything but perfection (it isn’t– and only those as shallow as an empty Kio pond or those with Asberger’s Syndrome are fooled).  Just like she doesn’t understand the spiritual benefits of a beautiful song that moves you to tears, she doesn’t understand the catharsis that ascends through the soul when one writes about the things that affect them deeply.  And I consider myself a lucky one—I can face it, cry about it, laugh about it, and write about it with humor.

 So my sister will not hear of or see this, hopefully ever, but at least until she finishes her fabulous trip.  Even though it may bother her for a day, bother her that I am bothered and writing this, it’s a day that she would never get back—and I am certainly not going to do that while she is enjoying the beautiful, quaint, cobble stone streets of Playa del Carmen.

Above, in this email to my mom in 2010, I am clearly “protecting” my sister from any upset, because at this point and all they way to 2020, I thought we were friends.  I was quite obviously a friend to her as I was until 2021 when my mom was dying. She was, and still is, nothing but tricks and deception with her triangulations and gaslighting and all other magic narcissists perform. She’s a fucking magician. She isn’t my friend and she never was.  But in order to keep control and thus keep you victimised and as their narcissistic supply, they must keep you thinking they are your friend.

People.  I’m telling this story to raise awareness.  There’s real good reason for people to perk up and pay attention—if we don’t, narcissists can rise to power unbridled–from giving them the power over a will that, under “natural” circumstances, no child would be disinherited from and, if we haven’t learned from small things like a disinheritance, the rise to power can give way to the killing of 6 million Jews.  Narcissists don’t stop until they are stopped.  My sister will destroy me and crush me until one of us is dead—but that likely won’t stop her, either.  She’ll go after my children.  She already has…

I got wind that my brother-in-law is not well with a heart problem.  When I heard about it, I knew instantly “what” is behind it.  

Uncle P?  My advice is to think long and hard about what you allowed to happen during my mother’s infirm and death and what you actually physically  did to me while I was sitting next to her with my right hand on my dying mother’s forehead and the other on her hand. Shame shame shame on you.  I want to forgive you for what you did and for what you didn’t do—but take my advice—G-d is at work, here, and there’s only one way for you to avoid what’s in store for you.  G-d calls it repentance and remediation.  Also, feel free to thank me for not going forward with the criminal or civil charges against you and your mother (the wife of a local Greek Priest) as of yet.  Shame on all of you blind and ignorant (at best) or complicit (at worst) fuckers.

There’s so much more to illustrate of my sister’s NPD and overwhelming evidence of my “injuries” due to it (pictures, home movies, hand-written letters, and other cool things to show-off–some of which go all the way from 1983) and other fun stuff coming! Also, I know exposing someone with NPD is dangerous. But she took it all. Including my three children and my dad. I have absolutely nothing to lose.