I wish you didn't matter anymore.
Once upon a time I had a sister-in-law who was as close to me as family. We went to movies and shopping. We'd spend days on the couch watching movies and laughing. Talking until midnight. We connected in, what I thought, was a eternal way. I was stupid and thought that time and memories would bring us closer; even if our marriages fell apart, we were going to be friends.
Then the drugs happened. And all of that vanished. Our friendship eroded over the course of years until she finally slipped away forever, lost to increasingly more detrimental drugs and choices.
She abandoned her husband, then her children, then me. I guess I should be flattered that I was the last to go, but I have a feeling she thought she'd be able to get money out of me. She'd show up out of the blue and I'd never hand her money, but I'd give her food and clothes. I'm an enabler, I guess, but I kept thinking, all of those years ago, that she'd clean herself up and it was important for her to know that she was loved.
Mazzy died and I was less willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. It didn't seem like I was having any effect on her anyway. Tough love and all of that.
She stopped coming around.
The next few years were filled with second-hand stories of her life passed along by her ex-husband (Adam's brother, Jonah) or his new wife, Emilee. (He bounced back quickly, in the tradition of the Castellow men. They're never single for long. They don't want to have to take care of themselves.)
I knew that some of what they were saying had to be clouded by their own perception, since they were having to battle her and Children's Protective Services for the kids, but eventually, even the most watered down version of the story was so fucking awful that I wanted to cry. (She's living in a crack den. No, now she's living with a sex offender. She married him. They're on the run. I saw her under a bridge six months pregnant. That baby was born dead.....)
I stopped asking.
Recently I received a phone call from Emilee asking me about an old crib of my niece's. Apparently Stefanie had a child in January, but they baby was removed in February because it tested positive for meth, but CPS had decided that Stef had done everything they required and they were giving the child back. (Terrifying.) The one caveat was that CPS wanted Stefanie to have a crib before they returned the kid to her and she didn't have the money to buy a new one. It seems that she was clear-headed enough to remember that when she abandoned Jonah, she left all of the kids' stuff here for me and Adam to deal with for her.
Emilee was concerned that Stefanie was going to show up looking for the furniture and I spent a few tense days worried that every unfamiliar car might contain her, but a week passed and nothing happened. Stefanie called Emilee and Jonah and told them she'd found a crib.
Crisis averted, right?
Then, a couple days ago I received another call from Emilee informing me that Stefanie had given the criminal court system one county over MY address as hers. I'm not sure there's anything that I can do to clear that up, but if she bails on the trial, the cops will come looking for her here. Of all the places she's lived in the last five years, why the hell would she remember my address?
My heart aches for the woman that I met over a decade ago. I want to shake her until her teeth fall out. I feel violated and foolish.
And it seems that this isn't going to end. Despite hoping that she'd just fade into oblivion before OD'ing in a ditch somewhere, she's going to be that bad penny I keep finding in my purse.
Drugs are bad, people. They make you stupid, hurtful and criminal. Just don't.
Then the drugs happened. And all of that vanished. Our friendship eroded over the course of years until she finally slipped away forever, lost to increasingly more detrimental drugs and choices.
She abandoned her husband, then her children, then me. I guess I should be flattered that I was the last to go, but I have a feeling she thought she'd be able to get money out of me. She'd show up out of the blue and I'd never hand her money, but I'd give her food and clothes. I'm an enabler, I guess, but I kept thinking, all of those years ago, that she'd clean herself up and it was important for her to know that she was loved.
Mazzy died and I was less willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. It didn't seem like I was having any effect on her anyway. Tough love and all of that.
She stopped coming around.
The next few years were filled with second-hand stories of her life passed along by her ex-husband (Adam's brother, Jonah) or his new wife, Emilee. (He bounced back quickly, in the tradition of the Castellow men. They're never single for long. They don't want to have to take care of themselves.)
I knew that some of what they were saying had to be clouded by their own perception, since they were having to battle her and Children's Protective Services for the kids, but eventually, even the most watered down version of the story was so fucking awful that I wanted to cry. (She's living in a crack den. No, now she's living with a sex offender. She married him. They're on the run. I saw her under a bridge six months pregnant. That baby was born dead.....)
I stopped asking.
Recently I received a phone call from Emilee asking me about an old crib of my niece's. Apparently Stefanie had a child in January, but they baby was removed in February because it tested positive for meth, but CPS had decided that Stef had done everything they required and they were giving the child back. (Terrifying.) The one caveat was that CPS wanted Stefanie to have a crib before they returned the kid to her and she didn't have the money to buy a new one. It seems that she was clear-headed enough to remember that when she abandoned Jonah, she left all of the kids' stuff here for me and Adam to deal with for her.
Emilee was concerned that Stefanie was going to show up looking for the furniture and I spent a few tense days worried that every unfamiliar car might contain her, but a week passed and nothing happened. Stefanie called Emilee and Jonah and told them she'd found a crib.
Crisis averted, right?
Then, a couple days ago I received another call from Emilee informing me that Stefanie had given the criminal court system one county over MY address as hers. I'm not sure there's anything that I can do to clear that up, but if she bails on the trial, the cops will come looking for her here. Of all the places she's lived in the last five years, why the hell would she remember my address?
My heart aches for the woman that I met over a decade ago. I want to shake her until her teeth fall out. I feel violated and foolish.
And it seems that this isn't going to end. Despite hoping that she'd just fade into oblivion before OD'ing in a ditch somewhere, she's going to be that bad penny I keep finding in my purse.
Drugs are bad, people. They make you stupid, hurtful and criminal. Just don't.
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