“A FLAWED Example Will Always Prove More Valuable Than Someone’s PERFECT Advice.” Cindy Daniel

Nearly four weeks ago, I bought my niece, Stephaney a car. She hadn’t had a car or license in four years due to her choosing to be homeless for two years prior to about fourteen months ago when after returning from yet another rehab stint I paid for, she relapsed AGAIN after Cindy let her “come home again.” Cindy kicked her out for good. Wendy drove her to treatment in Oklahoma that she got kicked out of then into a group home.

The amount of money Cindy and I have spent on rehab, bonds, impounded vehicles and more pertaining to Stephaney while raising the twins without a nickel of child support is staggering.

The psychotic circus of loving an addict will get you all kinds of “advice” from people who have no “experience.” Cindy and I have heard it all for 17 going on 18 years now WHILE raising Stephaney’s twin daughters.

This morning on FB messenger, one of Steph’s so called friends since she doesn’t have any sent me a DM. I answered publicly to this jackass who wanted to know WHY Stephaney couldn’t live with me? My husband recently had several heart attacks and surgery worrying that trying to Save Stephaney would eventually kill me.

Here’s my answer to the person who THINKS sitting on the sidelines and instructing the players when you ain’t even in the game went…

I don’t give two cents “what you think” about my candor and transparency. I don’t “live or post a faux FB life.”

BY the way- you couldn’t AND wouldn’t make it through ONE day of the chaos, commitment, sorrow, heartache and/or drama Cindy Daniel and I have endured for 17 years for ten minutes.

Keep using those filters and “acting” as if you are living the life of Riley you phony but don’t complain about me BEING raw, real or honest. I’m so sick and tired of people pretending to be who they aren’t. Sick of it. Facebook is for friends not phonies.

Do you know hard it is to “look happy” WHILE ON LOCATION WITH OUR CLIENTS or FILMING while RAISING Steph’s twin daughters for nearly 17 years singlehandedly while WE were juggling 4 businesses? WE DO. Hell no you don’t so shut up.

NEITHER of the twins parents have ever BOTHERED to EVEN pay the MINIMUM amount of child support (which is $100 per child per month in nearly 17 years).

Cindy and I HAVE been trying to APPEAR to the rest of the world “like we didn’t have a care in the world” throughout our lifetimes AS WELL as our careers WHILE dealing with Stephs CONSISTENT relapses and destruction affected my husband and I, my other niece, my grandnieces, my twin and my daughter in law OR our clients.

I really thought I had fixed Steph THIS TIME. I truly believed I had finally taught her the virtue of family OVER drugs and to work for things she wanted. It was Cindy and I who paid over $5k for 12 of the months rent.

Steph nearly got kicked out of that group home when she relapsed yet again working at Jason’s. AGAIN. I had the group home lady 51/50 her to dry her ass out. THEN found her the best job she had ever had. THEN I bought her that stupid car. Jesus.

After 17 effin years of doing anything humanly possible and financial as well as emotional heartache, the LAST thing Cindy and I need or are going to listen to is some dumb a$$ who is clueless. I’m honest. I don’t hide my pain or sorrow. I refuse to be a fake phony.

“Why doesn’t she live with YOU or CINDY?” Because each and every time my sister moved her back to “her home” you know the HOME the twins live at, Steph would relapse and get violent and destructive that’s why dumb shit. What’s your address? Do you want someone out of their mind thinking they are Jesus Christ stealing from you or destroying your property or verbally assaulting you WITH children in the house?! Eff off.

Cindy moved Steph back over and over and over. This circus is closing the big top and if ANYONE thinks they could do a better job than we have, put some skin in the game and send me YOUR ADDRESS!

When Cindy would NOT enable Steph, Wendy would. We are 56 years old. We have been on our own since we were 15 and NOBODY protected or cared for us as we have those twins. Guess what? It takes a Helluva lot of courage to take on the task of raising someone else’s children without child support. Cindy has done so not once but twice. Leigh Ann and Stephaney’s “sperm donors” never paid one damn nickel of support and that deadbeat dumb ass father of the twins CANNOT see them EVER because I had that written into the custody of the twins. Why? Because he’s been a meth addict their entire lives too. WE ARE PROTECTING THE TWINS from being near or around ADDICTS intentionally in order to protect them from the childhood we survived.

Do you even have children? I doubt it. Your FB page is full of selfies. You love yourself too much to love anyone else which is obvious. Narcissist gaslighting a holes like yourself would never understand that love is sacrifice. Keep on admiring yourself because from what I could find about you- there isn’t anyone else standing in line to admire you. Must get lonely loving yourself and judging others I would think. We put others needs before our own and have for at least 36 years now.

We HAVE raised our children AND grandchildren as a team. Do you know why love is sacrifice imbecile? Because it IS.

One day (hopefully) a light bulb will go off in your head that gives you a minor degree of common sense (one can hope).

You don’t know shit and I have zero tolerance for uneducated, inexperienced and opinionated idiots in my life OR in my WORLD.

Keep posting YOUR “fake, happy & enviable FB life” and move on down the road you effin phony.”

14 months ago after Stephaney was caught melting her psychotic medications to get high, Cindy kicked her out for the LAST time. My niece will do anything to get high. It’s sickening.

14 months ago I found a group home near my own within about ten minutes. The highway between the group home and my home quite literally separates the wealthy neighborhood from the poor neighborhood that the group home was located at.

My husband consistently worried that I would get carjacked picking Stephaney up to take her to and from work at Jason’s where I had found her a job AFTER moving into the group home.

Jasons paid so little that Cindy and I were still paying the $650 a month at the group home for the few months Steph kept the Jason’s job before once again relapsing on meth.

The group home lady Angela called me regarding “Steph’s behavior.” I instructed her to file a 51/50 on her as I’ve done myself as has Cindy on numerous occasions over the years.

How numerous? 21 involuntary commitments due to drug induced psychosis. Steph had been kicked out of one of Angela’s other group homes a few years ago when a meth pipe was found hidden in the coffee creamer.

To prevent her from getting kicked out of the group home and homeless ONCE again, I needed the 51/50 to dry Steph out.

You cannot talk to or reason with ANYONE on meth. They are out of their mind AND often violent and often psychotic which is why several of the 21 times Steph has been committed was BY the police rather than Cindy and I.

After 4 days in the psych ward, I picked Steph up and found her YET another job. She was sober because meth stays in your body 3-4 days. The amount of research I’ve done regarding getting anyone on meth off of it is disheartening as Hell.

One of our friends son overdosed after two years on meth. She still mourns his death although while on meth he broke several of her bones. She was spared 17 years of the shit Cindy and I have been through. I hate drugs. HATE THEM.

The last job I found for Steph was at an upscale restaurant where she was making enough money within a few months to pay her own rent at Angela’s.

She was stable, she was working and I was driving her to work, doing her laundry, keeping her with me on her days off to prevent yet another relapse and doing anything and everything humanly possible to keep her clean. She wanted to get a car before getting an apartment by her 34th birthday next month.

Every night I was proud that I had finally “fixed Steph.” She was going to be drug free and a part of this family. OR so I thought.

In less than 2 days of getting that car, the shit storm of meth yet again came crashing down on Cindy and I. Things went downhill fast.

Two Fridays ago, Steph was sent home by Charlestons for outrageous behavior for several days. She told them she was OUT of her anxiety medication.

Stephaney does not have an anxiety prescription. She has prescriptions for Bipolar One and other disorders she refuses to take.

Wendy AND Cindy have prescriptions for anxiety medication and her twin daughters do too. Why? STEPHANEY!

Stephaney flatlined (overdosed) within an hour of being fired. She was once again revived by paramedics and admitted into JPS ICU as Jane Doe. My phone number as well as Cindy’s had been written on her body in her own handwriting.

That’s HOW Wendy and Cindy were notified that Stephaney had died yet again AND how JPS finally identify who Jane Doe ACTUALLY was.

I was called by JPS on my way to to TDCJ Allred Unit. I wasn’t about to cancel my prison weddings. I never let ANYTHING interfere with my schedule OR my clients. ESPECIALLY more stupid shit and chaos regarding Stephaney.

I told JPS “I’m not coming today and neither is her mother without me. I’m traveling and on Thursday I’m scheduled at Green Bay Unit and Tarrant County Jail. We will come in after OUR obligations to clients have been met Thursday evening.”

Entering JPS for the 21st time Thursday night to see Steph who was now coherent because she hadn’t had ANY access to Meth was the most miserable gut wrenching end of the road for the Texas Twins. We were done. We could no longer GO this Hellish Merry Go Round.

In fact, we thought we were going there to pull the plug on her and quite frankly were fine with the decision. We could no longer go through this wretched misery with a drug addict for a family member.

Our mother was a heroin addict. Due to her addiction, we were exposed to being sexually abused for years. My mother was the most miserable excuse for a mother that exists in the world in my opinion. She sold all four of her children for $50 each. Tammy was 10, Cindy and I were 6 and our brother was 2 years old. Combined she “netted” $200. I hate my mother.

I will always hate my mother. Other “family members” who IGNORED the fact that my grandfather sexually abused my sisters and I for years, if YOU are reading this blog, I hate you too. This includes my father and his sister who could have protected us AND chose NOT to as well as the fact that my aunt told my sister to “have Wendy stop airing our dirty laundry in blogs that millions of people read.” Eff off. I’m sick and tired of pretending we had a decent family that gave a shit and keeping your secrets. After all, why else would Cindy and I run away at 15 with the clothes on our backs and nowhere to go in order to GET AWAY from this toxic ass family?!

There have been numerous times that Cindy and I have hated Stephaney over the years. We are NUMB now. Numb to our idiotic relatives who choose to live a lie. God is watching. We BECAME the mothers we NEVER had. We BECAME the people we never had with intention AND forethought because we came from such a horrific childhood and a group of relatives who did nothing to protect us from being victimized. Running away was OUR only option. My only regret is that we didn’t take my brother with us. We couldn’t because 1. He was too young and 2. We had nowhere to go. Shut up and go to Hell. I’m sick of you wanting me to keep your secrets.

I worry constantly about Cindys high blood pressure and weak heart. Stephaney has affected our health for years.

We DELIBERATELY SAVED Stephaney’s twin daughters by seeking and gaining custody within months of their release from NICU.

Stephaney says AND has always said that “we stole her kids.” The state was going to take them because she was on drugs. WE SAVED THE TWINS!!!!

The “father” of the twins is also a meth addict. I HAD insisted that visitation be removed entirely for Michael Wayne Scherer Jr 16 years ago. He has never had visitation privileges to the twins. I hope you are in prison again Michael because you belong there.

I TOOK CARE OF PREVENTING visitation from that violent sociopath of a “father” Michael.

As usual when sober, Stephaney told us at JPS that she loved us. This time we weren’t falling for it. This time we told her if she hadn’t regained consciousness that we WERE THERE to identify her AND had intended to instruct JPS to unplug her and end the misery THAT she has brought on our families with her addiction to meth.

We both GAVE her ONE option- go to San Diego. Enter treatment. “We love you but must love you from a distance. We will no longer be searching crack houses and dangerous areas for you. We will no longer try to fix you. We can’t. We are 56 years old. We have been raising your children and trying to save you from yourself for 17 years. If you make it out of here, we are taking you to the airport Monday after we finish the weekend of events on our schedules.”

I was walking into Parker County Jail with a client Friday morning when Cindy called me from the window to return to my suv “she’s out. They released her.” Jesus. A crazy maniac out on the loose again. I made a mental note not to check FB messenger. Why? Because all of our friends message us when they SEE Steph acting crazy that’s why.

Friday morning less than 24 hours after walking into JPS to unplug her- Steph WAS Out and BACK on meth. The hellish circus was back and in full force AGAIN.

I knew THAT last weekend would be Hell. I was traveling. Cindy was home with the twins. My husband was home. Who would she terrorize? I called the police. I wanted criminal trespassing orders updated on my home as well as Cindy’s.

Prior to leaving Fort Worth on Friday night after being “alerted” that Stephaney was on the loose AND knowing that she knew Virginia’s apartment was vacant, I was so damn concerned that she would try to crash there that I was rushing to get in and out trying to find items Virginia had given me a list.

I was SO concerned that a possible “run in” WITH Stephaney might occur that I was packing my 357.

My niece has put a knife to my throat so for those of you UNAWARE or UNAFRAID of anyone on meth, wake up.

Meth addicts are highly violent AND dangerous. I was carrying my gun all weekend BECAUSE I was SO concerned that she would track me down and quite possibly (since she’s threatened to so many times) try to kill me AND I’m being damn serious.

If you had listened to those psychotic threatening phone calls you would be too.

I have been packing and cleaning Virginia’s apartment whenever possible for a month now. Pretty much WITHIN the VERY same window of Steph getting that car and immediately getting on meth AGAIN.

Friday morning I had apparently stepped on something sharp because I was so half blinded by my own tears of anger, frustration, the many years of verbal and physical abuse we’ve suffered from Stephaney.

Feeling like I was going to have a nervous breakdown and worried Steph would show up and try to break in to “crash there,” I fell several times moving boxes at Virginia’s. I was MENTALLY losing it. Losing my mind and my emotions at the same time.

The gnawing fear that Steph would back track on agreeing to go to San Diego combined with the knowledge and sadness that Virginia would never again return to her apartment.

Virginia didn’t even recognize me at Harris Hospital and repeatedly kept asking where I was.

For weeks I’ve been mailing Virginia’s treasured jewelry to my prison clients. Many of them don’t have wedding rings.

This act of passing on Virginia’s treasures has brought myself AND my clients much joy. So much so that when I couldn’t find a clients ring size, I bought them a wedding ring myself and shipped it.

I’ve decided to start gifting my brides that need or want them wedding rings along with our complimentary bridal photo’s. Why not? They ARE worth it! I will do ANYTHING to make my clients day as special as they are. My clients ARE a gift.

Yolanda, (a prison connection I’m going to perform her Vow Renewal for after her husbands release) called me Saturday while I was having a mental breakdown/panic attack in the parking lot of the venue wondering when I would get another call about Stephaney.

Steph was out AND she was high and once she starts using she doesn’t stop unless she is in jail or a psych ward.

Yolanda talked me down and calmed me enough to walk into that venue as I have so many times before like I didn’t have a shit ton of personal issues. I was crying so hard that I could barely talk to Yolanda. Anyone who has ever dealt with a family member who is a drug addict will understand my pain, sorrow and anger. If you aren’t one of those people count your blessings and I’m serious.

Our events other than funerals are joyous. Our clients deserve us at our best. We strive to never let them see our pain on their event day.

The majority of my clients never even know or are aware of what raw SHEER and RAW Hell that Cindy and I are going through BECAUSE we hide it from them. Clients who do know either read my blogs or follow my posts or have heard Stephaney screaming at us on my bluetooth while on location.

Sunday my leg and my foot continued to swell AND hurt but with my schedule and my determination to get Steph OUT of Texas, I was hellbent on getting Stephaney on the AA DFW to San Diego flight.

Cindy and I had booked that flight together Friday morning before I headed to Virginia’s. We needed Steph out of Texas. It was our LAST chance to stop her before she killed us by destroying OUR health with HER choices.

Friday night Steph had agreed to go to San Diego BUT by Saturday she wasn’t.

Cindy and I were determined AND going to get her on that plane before her craziness gave Cindy, my husband or EVEN me a heart attack. The twins were being protected of this latest relapse. We blocked Steph on their phones. Both were terrified their mother would “show up” at their jobs and embarrass them. I was hoping Steph wasn’t that stupid but again- people on meth are UNPREDICTABLE.

Monday morning while at the post office, Stephaney called me from a weird number. I didn’t know who it was. I answer all calls unless I’m on location with a client.

I had told her Thursday at JPS firmly “don’t get high on Monday OR they won’t let you on the plane. I will pick you up at 8AM. I’m going to the post office to use the machine and mail rings and contracts. Your mother and I have bought and packed everything. All arrangements have been made. This is the ONLY option you have left. You’ve lost your job, you are back on meth, your children won’t speak to you or see you. There is nothing left for you in Texas other than forcing us to watch you kill yourself while we slowly die.”

She was out of her mind on that phone call. Thank God the post office was empty. “F you and F mom you two are the worst mothers in the world. You are sending me to CA alone you bitches. You stole my children. I hate you MF’s. Go to Hell. I’m not taking anything you’ve bought or packed. F you and F going to treatment. I’m going to be homeless.”

I was INSTANTLY lit. My foot and leg were hurting so damn bad I had to lean on the postage machine before shouting right back “you hate US? We hate you. Look what you have done to your own children by your behavior and choices? We had to home school them both for a year after they attempted suicide because of YOU. We HAVE spent years searching the streets for you. Get on that plane today OR you are dead to us both. I effin mean it!”

Christ. Cindy was coming from Weatherford with Leigh Ann. I had to call and warn them NOT to go to the group home.

My fear of Cindy having another heart attack was why I said loudly “listen to me. She’s out of her mind. Go to my house. Wait there. Do not go to the group home. I’m at the post office on Hulen. I will take my Xanax NOW then go over to this Shit storm myself and if I have to hogtie her ass to get her on that damn plane I will. DO NOT GO OVER THERE.”

I was so rattled and concerned about my own safety after talking to my maniacal niece that I couldn’t get my credit card to go into the machine to pay for postage. Furious at myself for being unable to complete such a simple task and mere hours from that flight taking off, I used my left hand to steady my right hand and successfully buy postage.

I wasn’t crying anymore. I was ANGRY and determined to get Stephaney the HELL out of Texas and ON that plane.

I limped back to the Cherokee. I couldn’t drive the Sahara due to my swelling foot and leg pain. It sits too high.

It would be hours before I FINALLY went to urgent care after spending hours with my niece verbally abusing Cindy, me AND Leigh Ann at the airport.

Rolling up to the group home with bars on the windows that looks like all of the other houses in Como, I questioned going to the door. Stephaney had either lost or sold the cell phones Cindy and I had just bought her when she flatlined at that QT. She had no purse. No ID. No cell phone. Nothing. That’s why she was admitted to JPS as Jane Doe.

I contemplated taking another Xanax this was going to be sheer, raw Hell and I knew it. I chewed up another one. I couldn’t afford a heart attack or a stroke over Stephaney. Had I ever taken 2 within an hour? No but my leg and foot pain were killing me and I couldn’t fight her or keep her from fighting me one legged. I had resigned myself to the fact that if Steph became violent, I would be forced to protect myself which was why I needed that second Xanax.

Cindy called me as I was chewing up that Xanax. “We will come over there. She’s violent. She called me.” I said “Do NOT go to the group home. Stay away. How does she keep calling us? Where is she getting access to a phone? We just bought her ANOTHER freaking phone again last night and we haven’t seen her to give it to her so how is she calling us and whose phone is that?”

Apparently one of the residents of the group home had a cell phone Steph was using. She always finds a way to call and terrorize EVEN when she trades the cell phones we buy for drugs or loses them because she’s whacked out of her mind on drugs.

She came outside. I was right. Her hair was wild and filthy. Her clothes didn’t fit. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her acrylic nails were half missing and she came at the door of the Jeep like a wild lunatic. I got wilder. Never let anyone in raging lunacy SEE your FEAR. They are like angry dogs and WILL attack.

I’m so hurt and angry that I thought I had finally got her stable you have no idea just how damn angry I am at my niece. This latest relapse with Virginia dying couldn’t come at a worse time.

Stephaney was waving her hands throwing things and acting completely insane. In THAT neighborhood, no one calls the police. Instead, they go back in the house.

I don’t even know what all I said or screamed as she threw the luggage I had carefully packed onto the road and everything inside of it out. This fighting and screaming went on for 20 minutes before I finally said “listen to me. I will have you permanently committed if you don’t get on that plane. I have the documentation to do it AND I will. Get your shit and get in the freakin car or I am calling the cops and issuing a 51/50 on you until I can get a hearing and THEN I am sending you to a psych ward for the rest of your life. I will get guardianship over you and have your ass put in a strait jacket I swear to God.”

She finally got in screaming all the way from the group home to my home for ten minutes.

I nearly flipped the Jeep pulling into my own driveway with Steph grabbing the wheel. As we pulled up next to Cindy and Leigh Ann. They both took one look at her and knew she had been using and it was recent.

In MY NEIGHBORHOOD they call the cops.

More drama and chaos ensued but no one called the cops BECAUSE all of my neighbors KNOW I have a crazy ass niece.

Stephaney gets into the Nissan Rogue I gave Cindy for Christmas. My heart stopped. Son of a bitch. She was going to terrorize Cindy all the way to the airport. Damn her. I was instantly even more fearful. Cindy alone in her suv WITH Steph out of her mind.

I drove as fast as I could with the pain in my foot so damn intense that I took off my shoe. Leigh Ann sat in my back seat to watch Cindy and Stephaney screaming at each other as Cindy gripped the wheel of the Rogue so tightly that even at Urgent Care hours later her hands were still numb.

I won’t drag you through the torture of wondering if AA would let Steph on that plane ALL of us felt.

The flight was delayed over and over. We all assumed it was because Steph was being arrested on the plane. I decided if that occurred I wasn’t doing one damn thing to keep her out of prison this time as I had so many times in the past. I wish to Hell I had let her go to prison the many times I saved her.

When we all knew that plane was FINALLY in the air, I limped with one bare foot through the airport making damn sure Steph didn’t try to sneak back out of the airport before instructing Cindy and Leigh Ann “get it the suvs and drive as fast as you can before SHE comes running after us!”

We didn’t know whether she was on that plane or not. I didn’t care. If she wasn’t let be homeless. I was done. Finished. She was dead to me.

Cindy drove my Cherokee while Leigh Ann drove the Rogue. We went to Cindys house to drop a vehicle then on to urgent care. I have cellulitis again. I also have a sore arm from a Tetnus shot since I couldn’t remember when I had my last one.

Steph called from the brand new phone Cindy threw at her. She was on the beach throwing up while she stated “I’m not going back to rehab and sober living. I’m not going to find a job either. I’m not doing any of that shit. I’m going to live on the beach.”

Cindy didn’t argue. We both knew it was probably going to be San Diego where my niece would finally kill herself over her choices with an overdose. We both knew that today would most likely be the last time we ever saw her again.

I drove home with difficulty due to my leg and foot pain to load my Sahara for Jordan Unit,  Parker County and McConnell on Thursday.

How I didn’t have a total nervous breakdown throughout all of this chaos WHILE working events all the while, I have no idea.

How Cindy didn’t have to pop nitro pills like Tic Tacs or suffer another heart attack or stroke, I have no idea.

At this moment, I don’t even know where I am scheduled on Friday, Saturday or Sunday.

I expect that my niece won’t live long enough to see her birthday next month and I’m mentally prepared for the likelihood. I pray Cindy is too. We’ve endured so much pain trying to save my niece I cannot ever put into words the magnitude of misery.

While loading bouquets and items for my brides photo shoots, I found the photos Stephaney left behind in my suv. Photos of the twins in frames I had carefully bought and chosen to give to my niece to keep on her desk at the group home.

Photos that I hoped would keep her focused on family and sobriety. Left behind in my suv. As easily discarded as she had with so many things in her life from her own family to cars, jobs, clothes, friendships and everything else my niece has destroyed, lost or thrown away.

There are very few photos of Stephaney and the twins or in any of our photo albums after she was 15 and began using drugs. Stephaney was never at family events and when she was she was either high and starting fights with me, Cindy, my son or her sister. Thanks to Stephaney and her addiction, we have NEVER had a normal holiday in nearly 20 years. If she bothered to come to my home at all, she was high and it ended badly. Steph was never interested in spending time with her twins or our family. Instead my niece was always off high somewhere…