Old SC - Sisters - 5 - Sociopath Community

Second Installment

I had to move in with her for 4 weeks. That's not long, right?
I was dreading it because I knew how it would be. She is a black hole who needs constant reassurance. Constantly needs to have you see how special she is. She writes all these Christian songs that sound like how a five year old sounds when they are just making a song up as they go. My brain cringes when she pulls out her little tape recorder to have me listen to the newest 10 or so songs, They are all sobbing pleas about being suicidal or left behind. She is so dramatic when she sings them live, Then she tells me of her visions from God, and goes into superficial preacher mode.

I try to act like I'm not I'm not leaving my body. But I don't know what expression to put on my face. She's always talking about prophecies. Said my purpose in life was to hunt down demons and destroy them. Said I would lead an army some day. I can feel my frozen face when she says these things to me. She is always comparing her daughter to me. I sometime wonder if my niece is a sociopath. She says we are both so serious... and only attributes negative traits when comparing us. But she doesn't get my humor. It offend her delicate sensibilities .

The first night I'm there she is trying to load me up on pills because I've pushed my body too far again.
Now I want to scratch my face off as I sit there listening to her ramble on about how it was her kids fault she started buying them alcohol at the age of 14 and 16, and let them take over the house back in CA.
Now I'm coming out of my skin as she rattles on about how her ex husband tried to drown her in a toilet full of her own vomit. I know where this is leading. She will be talking about our childhood again. She changes all the stories to suit her. That makes me crazy because in every story she is the hero and I am some parasite. She may have chased me with knives and locked me in suitcases, but I was the evil one, because I was cold and knew how to cut with my words.

She will be wasted soon. Then who knows what persona will slip out of the shadows to play. Her kids are not attended to. It's like they don't exist unless she needs them to do something for her, or to stop doing something. If I leave it to her to decide on dinner- they will not get fed until 10 at night.

So I take the wheel. I begin to delegate the chores, and help with the homework. I take on the duty of driving the girls to school because now, she is too ill and too tired to take them herself. I keep telling her I think it's the pills that are fucking her health up. I've been telling her this for 2 years now. She is on 6 or 7 different psyche meds, and then she adds pain killers and muscle relaxers to the mix. I even tell her I think her mental illness is getting worse because of the meds... but she insists she can't function without them.

Talking to her is like talking to the characters on the television. We are in the same room, but there is a glass wall separating us. She looks at me, but I can see how blank she is behind the eyes. She tries to be affectionate with me... and it's like some crazy bum on the city bus, is trying to sleep in my lap.
One night I take her to a club after she tells me she has not gone out the entire two years of her living here. I know it's a risk, but I thought she might have fun. At first it is... she is happy and dancing. I introduce her to my lesbian friends. But after a few drinks she disappears. I get nervous. I know how it will be now. She is out on the patio in some dyke's lap. They already know each other's childhood history. I take a seat and try not to roll my eyes at her.

It's turned into a drunken support group, and we haven't even been there for an hour yet. I listen to them comfort each other and pat each other's fragile egos... then she is flirting with everyone. I have to pull some guy off her and tell him she is married. We get home later than expected, and her narcy husband is all wounded that she was not there to tend to his needs. She doesn't get up the whole next day, or the day after that. Then a week later she is meeting up with that dyke after school for drinks. Great.

I know this is trouble. She only texts me and expects me to take care of everything in her stead. She says she'll be home in a couple of hours. I know she won't. Her husband comes home after closing the bar he works at. She's not back yet. I tell him all I know and head for bed. He wakes me at 4 in the morning saying she's not back yet. He's in a panic and must take his xanx because he has zero coping skills. This is his signal that I must take on the task of hunting her down. I'm pissed now. Why can't she make friends like a normal person? Why does drinking always lead to black outs with her? Nothing is ever enough. She must suck the life out of every room, and then it's off to a the next room... the next house... the next planet!

I call her... No answer. So I call the dyke... say if my fucking sister doesn't get home yesterday, I'm coming for her myself... and you don't want me coming for her! 5 minutes later she is calling me back. She says the dyke had no clock for her to check. How old is she right now?!
I go to bed because I don't want to hear them fighting. They put me in the middle of everything. Treat me like a marriage councilor. My head is splitting. I've been getting more migraines and my mind has been fragmenting more.
She doesn't get up the next day.... or the next... or the next after that. Then the vomiting begins.

To be continued...