Keeps Getting Sicker 1


To say that the past few years have been some of the most drama-filled years for my family would not be an understatement. Every time that I think that things have gotten as bad as they could possibly get, something or someone makes them worse. Each time, it seems like they get creepier.

Nana called earlier to tell mom about something disturbing she had received. Apparently, someone had left an envelope in her mailbox. She thinks that the person left them in the middle of the night, because she never heard or saw anyone do it. The envelope was filled with various tweets and pictures that I had posted. Some were from June, which means that the person had been following my tweets and printing them out as they were made. (I tried to find Tweets from back that far, but the Twitter API apparently only allows about 3200 Tweets, which got me back to mid-August.)

One of the Tweets was apparently one where I had called Nana a “damn bitch”, which I may have said. I probably did. I was angry a lot of the time that we were at her house because I felt like we weren’t wanted. The thing is that I tweeted things like that to keep from feeling as angry. Twitter was a platform for me to express my frustration so that I wouldn’t go completely nuts. Twitter became something like this blog, where I used it to keep my issues in check. And now someone (probably Billy or Deb or Aunt Barbara) is using those Tweets against me.

It was bad enough when I had a lot of family members unfriend me on Facebook shortly after they would friend one of them. It was worse when I was accused of saying things that I didn’t say. Now, they’re actively watching what I say and do to try to take one of the few members of the family who hasn’t joined their team away from me. On my mom’s side of the family, I have Nana and a handful of mom’s first cousins. I may or may not have Uncle Raymond. I’m sure that they’ve tried for him, as well. I’m being isolated. I guess it’s fun for them. It’s certainly not fun for me.

I deal with enough everyday without having to deal with their sick behavior. I don’t get how they could have such a vitriolic feeling for me. So what if I called Eileen a bad mother when I was 18 and thought that she was letting Will get away with everything! So what if I said in January 2011 that I was pissed that I found out on local news that Will has a developmental disorder, instead of finding out from them! So what if I said I hated Aunt Barbara in April of 2011 for treating my parents and I like second-class citizens! So what if I tweeted about how pissed I was at my Aunt for saying that my dad was lazy or that my mom faked the hypoglycemia spell that started her problems with kidney failure. So what. So what. So what. I was ranting. I am allowed to rant. And they are allowed to get pissed at me for ranting, but what they are doing is going too far. Usually, when I rant, though, five minutes after I rant, I don’t mean what I say.

When I found out about this, I made this Tweet and I bet they print it out as well:

I’m not ashamed to tell them that. And this time I do mean it. Maybe some masturbatory fun would make them get over the whole stalking-revenge schtick.

Nana ended up telling Mom to tell me that she isn’t upset with me. She said she was hurt at first, but that she realized that whoever “gave” her the envelope was trying to make her feel hurt. She realized they were manipulating her. And she still loves me. It worries me to think what they might try next.

I wish I lived in one of those states where I could file some kind of charges against them for cyberstalking, but Alabama doesn’t have a cyberstalking law. All I could do here is wait until they physically stalk me. I’m starting to wonder if that’s where this is headed. Nana could probably file something about harassing communications. Or the USPS could go after them for using a mailbox for non-mail. (It is illegal, after all.)

“No part of a mail receptacle may be used to deliver any matter not bearing postage, including items or matter placed upon, supported by, attached to, hung from, or inserted into a mail receptacle. Any mailable matter not bearing postage and found as described above is subject to the same postage as would be paid if it were carried by mail.” – 508 3.1.3

Ugh. I don’t know what to do. I guess wait to see what’s next with these people.


About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.


One thought on “Keeps Getting Sicker

  • Jenn

    Family drama is the worst.

    More than anything I’m appalled that it is most likely a FAMILY MEMBER that is not just actively watching your blog and social media channels, but printing stuff out and then hand-delivering it to other family members? I mean, what the fucking fuck? That’s low, sick, and many kinds of twisted. I’m sorry that you and your grandmother have to deal with that.

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