My sister invited me to come live with her and her husband in January 2013. I accepted after receiving my SS disability in February 2013, so I would not be a financial burden to them. I was renting a room in a lovely home with a good friend. But things were getting complicated and I was not comfortable in that living situation.

I moved to Las Vegas in August 2013. It was quite an accomplishment as my health was not so good. At my sisters encouragement, I went to see the surgeon she want to in Los Angeles. He was going to remove my 2009 failed lap band and replace it with the Duodenal Switch surgery. My weight was killing me. At 330 lbs. I could hardly walk or move, so I decided that this was the best option for me.

On Nov. 8, 2013 I had the D/S surgery and 2 weeks later developed complications from that surgery. The mesh that was holding up my hernia had to be removed because the lap band had become entwined with it. Nothing was holding up the hernia as I have no stomach muscles and things must have shifted internally. After much guess work on the part of the doctors locally, they decided to reopen me up and put everything back in place. The big problem was that the local surgeon refused to call the Los Angeles surgeon (because of big ego) and she could not figure out what was wrong inside me. She did put a drain inside my stomach. Ultimately it was the hernia pressing into my bowels turning everything inside into an infection.

After 2 weeks on 5 or 6 antibiotics, no food, horrible doctors who would not communicate, I was released from the hospital.

Somewhere in that time frame my sister decided she didn’t like me. I can almost pinpoint the moment. I hadn’t eaten for over a week and was starving, they hadn’t given me the Wellbutrin I was supposed to be weaned off of, I was begging the local surgeon to call the LA surgeon, my adrenal glands were bleeding spontaneously because of the stress and all Janette could think of was herself.

But what she said to me this week took her hatred of me to a new level.

She told me she didn’t want me to live with her and her husband the rest of her life. It was nothing I did, she said. “I’m borderline bipolar and I know it. I have this need to just be alone. Sometimes I don’t want Michael around.”

I spent a lot of money moving here. I felt secure for the first time in a long time and she knew that. She heard me on the phone with an old friend and I told him I was quite happy in my living arrangements. I told him blood was thicker than friendship. Janette heard me say that, and thus her harsh reaction.

Yes, she is bipolar. Exactly like our mother was. There is no predictability in behavior—other than unpredictability. She said it was not personal. Well sorry Janette, telling me you can’t bear the thought of living with me any more is PERSONAL!

You may be asking what I did to set her off. I can honestly say I did nothing. 2 months ago, after spending a week with a friend from Florida here in Las Vegas, my sister freaked out when I came “home”. She said she didn’t want me to cook any more. It reminded her too much of our mother. I flipped out from that remark.

The truth is my sister is jealous of me. Jealous of everyone. She is so miserable internally that she strikes out with sharpened nails when she gets green with envy. She is particularly angry with me because I maintained a number of friendships from Florida. She has no friends. She never learned the skill nor understood the art of friendship. The funny thing is that I totally “get” her. I grew up with her, put her through nursing school, lived with her as an adult, took care of her until she got married. And even then she came back to live with me with her husband and child.

So I have always been there for her. I can’t say the same about her. I have made excuses for her my whole life. We were abused as children and that has weighed on our shoulders into adulthood.

I’m going to be 60 years old in October and I don’t know where I’m going to live. Who thought I’d end up here with having so much promise as a child.