...Jennifer had always resisted being labeled as special needs of any kind. No programs. She wanted to live in her own way, no case worker or ward of the state or any of that. And I honored that, all of her life. When she was small, my aunt had suggested that I have her institutionalized. Nope. Could never, ever consider that.

....................................

Back to the story..... So I was about to be discharged from the facility. I received a text message from Jennifer saying "I can't live with you any more I want some independents (sic)" Okay, I replied, "Let's talk about this as a family very soon."

I was amenable to the idea of transitioning Jennifer to care of her sister, 200 miles away. That had always been the eventual plan for her and for me.

But something else was afoot. I was informed by the physical therapist that C had told the staff at the facility that Jennifer would be moving out of our apartment before I would be home. They had been informed a week before. No one had told me.

The gaslighting increased. And then a msg from Jennifer saying "Mom I can't live with you anymore. I need independents (sic)" "Okay" I wrote back "Let's talk as a family when I get out."

Next came the "care committee" meeting where staff and family would talk about my future. (Honestly, who granted them that authority??) When Jennifer and C showed up, Jennifer's face was stiff with grief. She said to me "I'm mad at you." Dumbfounded, I asked why. "C says you stole my life. She says you kept me from living my life" And then the meeting started. I was struck nearly speechless.

C. kept bringing up reasons why I should not go home. "Who is going to help you down the stairs and into the apartment?" "How will you manage the things that need to be done?" Yada yada yad.

What the hell???!!

I was firm. I'm going home. Now. I'm going home. I'm going home. End of discussion. End of discussion. A taxi will come and take me home.

C kept arguing with me. The social worker said "How about you leave in three hours so we can do the paper work.

And WHEN I GOT HOME I KNEW WHY C. was in such a hurry.

She had thought they had the weekend to get Jennifer's stuff out of there. But they had less than three hours.

The place was ransacked when I got home. A disaster in Jennifer's bedroom as they grabbed things to go. Totally ransacked. They forgot her coats and good shoes in the haste.

And before any reaction could be voiced, C. cut off all communication of any kind. This is known as "emotional cutoff" -- an outdated therapy from the 1960s.

It gets worse.....

By this time, my son was also whipped into a frenzy by C, accusing me ot pursuing Jennifer's benefits and working to protect them because I wanted to "live off her disability"

A preposterous notion insulting to every family who has to fight the system to get and maintain benefits.

So, here we are.

I tried to send Jennifer a box of candy for her birthday next week. C. refused to accept the amazon delivery.

Parent alienation of special needs person, by sibling.

Yes, I realize that C. is "troubled" And she is an ordained Unitarian minister. Her siblings called her "Hitler" as children.

I wish I knew how to move forward. I know that Jennifer has now been fully indoctrinated with the product of C's imagination.

Thanks for listening.

I'm so sorry to hear this.

It's scary to think your daughter C is in charge of daughter J - J may find out the hard way how demented C seems to be.

AND it's hugely horrible and scary that C is a Unitarian minister. You might be able to alert the UUA about her actions in the district she serves. I would hate to be going to that church.

Sadness for all involved here.

I do hope you are home and are able to cope well.

Our situation is so very different... but I feel for you. We lived with an uncle (about 10 years older than me) who had german measles as a young child and was left mentally deficient. When the institutions closed down during Reagan's realm, he was sent home after being kicked out of a halfway house for being unmanageable and violent. His body grew, but he had the mental capacity of about an 8 year old, maybe. And everything was immediate gratification. My mother grew up in this environment and was emotionally stunted and harmed for the rest of her life, and the harm was passed down the generations through us, her children... both directly and indirectly.

At one point during all this, he "discovered" sex and thought he'd try it out on me. I was about 11 years old. I fought him off, and told my grandmother what happened. She convinced me to keep it a secret and she'd talk to him and keep him from doing anything like that again. To this day, I've never told anyone (except here, now).

When he was finally accepted into a group home when he was in his late 30's, what he couldn't grab of my late great-grandfather's, he smashed. This was furniture, etc., that my great grandfather had made and was very special to us. Luckily, I had managed to get hold of a few things like the grandfather's clock he made and the hope chest he'd made me when I was still a baby. But other irreplaceable items were smashed to bits. My grandma was beside herself, my mom was in tears of grief and anger. And my uncle seemed quite pleased with himself. He announced to everyone he was getting married (!).

My mom is in a memory care home today. I hate it. I have two chronic illnesses that keep me from being able to care for her, and the pent up anger and violence from those early days comes too easily to her in her dementia. I can't cope with it, and she needs professional care, no matter how much I wanted her to spend her last days with me.

I have a supportive family. My sister and I are united around our mom. Sis is too young to know much of anything about our uncle. Brother doesn't really understand or care. He lives in his own world. Interestingly enough, he is the only Republican in the family (LOL). Kinda fits, doesn't it? But he doesn't make noise about anything we two sisters plan, as long as we keep him in the loop. But for me, the psychologist in the family, it's hard not to see the dynamics of those early days still playing out in these, the latter days of my mom and how they still impact our family.

My heart goes out to you. Family is not easy. We can choose our friends, but not our family. May the Universe give you the love, grace and strength to handle that with which you are presented, my friend. And may your daughter come to realize who truly has had her heart and back this whole time. But do realize righteous hitlers are hard to overcome. We have had them in our family, too, in the manner of baptist preachers. So I do know of what I speak. But I also know their influence CAN be seen through, eventually. Hang in there... but always remember to be good to yourself!