Susie was born on July 23, 1955, or 56. She was number 3 out of 4 girls in the family. I am not sure about her childhood. I don't know how she was treated. I don't know if she had a problem learning, or if she was a problematic child while in elementary school.
There were several different stories I heard about when, where, why, and how my Mom became the "bad" child. Nowadays, social workers and educators have names or titles for the child that my Mom was. Maybe she had a psychological problem that wasn't determined because, during that era, problem children like my Mom was hidden away. It was embarrassing to have a child in a family who behaved or portrayed themselves like this. Like Susie did. It was not spoken about. Especially in a small city that I came from.
From what I have heard over the years is Susie went bad after Angie was born, there was such a long time between both of them. I guess there are 11 years between my Mom being born and my Aunt Angie being born. After Angie being born is when Susie started acting out. And then I heard she was in gymnastics and she broke her back, the doctors gave her meds, and she couldn't get off of them. (I cannot give you the exact quotes, that is why I italicized.) Such things were repeated time and time over the years.
I guess maybe when a person who may be born with a certain chemical imbalance it is possible that the combination of both a new child being born after being the "baby" of the family for a long time and having all the attention being taken away when a new baby is born plus enduring injury while performing a certain sport could make a person's chemical imbalance come to light.
I was not there. I don't know the truth about what happened to Susie to make to the person s
she became. However, throughout my childhood and after I was constantly reminded about Susie. How "you are just like your Mother." "You are just like Susie." "She looks just like Susie." "You are going to turn out just like your Mother." "Susie always ruins everything."
My story of growing up with a heroin-addicted Mom. All of the ups and downs of her coming and going...going to rehabs, going to jail and prisons, seeing the wounds she gave herself, and then eventually the drugs impacting her mental stability with the bipolar syndrome and maybe a little schizophrenia mixed in. These are the memories I lived, and this is the truth that I know.
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