Wounded Birds and Shattered Dreams: The Heart-Wrenching True Story of Two Sisters

By Jessica Suset and Beth Morso

Grandma, Granddad, and I were sitting in their backyard in the sunshine and having a beer together when Don arrived to pick me up. He had a beer with us, and I thought everything was fine until we got back to our apartment.

Don began yelling and slapped me hard as he said I should not be drinking when he was not around.

“But I only had one beer. We can go over any time together and enjoy their backyard,” I said.

As he started slapping me around and pinning me on the bed, I thought of a way I might be able to change things. Don had been seeing a psychiatrist for years, telling him it was job-related stress, so he was taking Valium. When Don wasn’t looking, I went to the liquor cabinet, got a bottle of vodka, and locked myself in the bathroom.

I poured more than half the bottle down the drain so it appeared that I drank it, took a few of his Valium, and swallowed them with vodka so I smelled like liquor. I also dumped half the bottle of Valium down the sink. After Don pounded on the door for me to open it, I did. It appeared as if I was trying to overdose, which was my plan. Don called an ambulance. The hospital was going to send me home after a couple of hours on an IV, but I begged them not to and explained my situation. I told the nurses that if they sent me home, I was really going to do it. I got what I wanted and was admitted into the psychiatric ward.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796041071

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Copyright © 2019 by Jessica Suset and Beth Morso.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2019908092

ISBN:              Hardcover                           978-1-7960-4109-5

                        Softcover                              978-1-7960-4108-8

                        eBook                                   978-1-7960-4107-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 06/18/2019

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CONTENTS

Preface By Jessica

Jessica’s Younger Years

Beth’s Younger Years

Jessica And Don

Jessica Gets Married

Jessica’s Surprise

Jessica Gets A New Job

Beth Is Afraid For Jessica

Beth Moves To The Country

Jessica Comes For A Surprise Visit

Beth’s Turmoil

Jessica Searches For A Way Out

Jessica And Don’s New Apartment

Jessica Goes Out With Her Friends

Beth Moves Again And Again

Jessica Leaves Don

Beth Meets Rodger

Beth Moves In With Rodger

Jessica Questions Her Independence

Dark Beth

Jessica Buys A Townhouse

Beth’s Days Get Darker

Beth Is Wearing Out

Beth’s Life Gets Worse

Beth’s House Of Evil

Beth – Silence Of The Rabbits

Beth Parts With Lady Jane

Jessica– Three Times And You Are Out

Jessica – I Have Had Enough

Jessica Finally Gets A Divorce

Jessica’s New Life

Jessica Gets Engaged

Jessica Gets Married

Jessica – Family Changes

Beth Shows Velvet

Beth – Year Seven

Beth Gets Burned

Jessica – The Family Secret

Beth Leaves The Abuse

Lonely Jessica

Jessica Gets A University Degree

Beth’s New Life

Beth Meets Dick

Beth Marries Dick

Beth’s Rocky Marriage To Dick

Jessica’s Life Changes

Jessica – Christmas 1994

Jessica – Grandma’s Funeral

Jessica Digs Deep For Strength

Jessica – Keith Comes Home From The Hospital

Jessica – Keith Returns To The Hospital For The Last Time

Jessica – Keith Passes Away

Beth – Dick’s Drinking Becomes Intolerable

Jessica – Our Loving Father

Jessica – Our Dad’s Funeral

Beth Leaves Dick

Jessica – Three Wounded Birds

Beth Moves In With Jessica

Beth Meets Bruce

Jessica – Mom’s Emotional Setback

Jessica – Mom Moves Into An Apartment

Beth – My Great New Life

Beth – Completing My Last Semester In Nursing

Jessica – The Tragic News

Jessica – Mom Moves In With Me

Beth – Bruce’s Surprise

Jessica – Mom’s Last Days

Jessica Experiences More Loss

Jessica Moves Out Of Town

Beth – My Happy Life As A Wife And Nurse

Jessica – Our Dear Brother

Jessica – Our Brother, Our Friend

Jessica – My Tragic Loss

Beth – I Am Finally Home

Jessica Meets Justin

Jessica’s New Beginning

Jessica Moves Into A Townhouse

Jessica And Justin Get Married

Epilogue – Beth

Epilogue – Jessica

About The Authors

This book is dedicated to our dear brother who we lost to cancer in 2008.

We will always miss him.

None of the details of this book have been fabricated. All contents are true experiences of the authors.

Names, places, and cities have been changed to protect the privacy of all individuals involved.

PREFACE BY JESSICA

Beth and I have spent over a year writing our story from our dysfunctional childhoods to where we are today. It was a painful process to remember our personal stories as we had spent so many years trying to bury the memories.

We have met numerous women in our personal and professional lives that are in or have been in similar situations that we felt we owe it to them to share our experiences and give some hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The book is also educational for those who do not understand why men and women do not just leave their abusers.

As authors, we have used different names and changed the names of everyone in the book for privacy purposes. Everything we have written is true with no fabrication whatsoever.

Our stories include the following gruesome realities:

• physical, mental, verbal, and emotional abuse

• alcoholism

• mental illness

• sexual assault

• incest

• animal cruelty

• death

• divorce

Beth and I are ten years apart in age, and we chose the wrong men not once, but twice.

Our dream is to help others as well as educate the public so that they can recognize the signs and hopefully help someone themselves.

A wounded bird requires care and nurturing before it can be set free and survive, thus the title of our book.

We certainly hope you enjoy our book and share your knowledge with others.

JESSICA’S YOUNGER YEARS

My earliest recollection of my childhood is around the age of four. My brother and I had to share a bedroom, and I drew a chalk mark on the floor to divide it into two and got angry if he crossed that line and touched my things. I remember Daddy going to work during the day and playing drums at a local bar on the weekends. He always came home late on the weekends drunk, so no wonder I don’t remember much from those early years.

When I was nine, Mom told my brother and I that she was going to have a baby. Beth was born, thus the ten-year age difference between us. My brother and I were excited as we got to stay at Grandma and Grandad’s house while Mom was in the hospital. Beth was premature, so Mom had to come home without her for a couple of weeks.

We rented a house, and the school my brother and I went to was not the greatest. Both of us were bullied. I met this older student who played the violin, and I loved to listen to her play. We did not have any money for a violin, so Grandma bought me one for my tenth birthday.

I was so happy and ran to my new friend’s house to show her. She gave me some lessons and was so pleased that I was actually good at it. She recommended a teacher for me as my new friend was moving away to go to high school in another city. That was the beginning of the end of my love for the violin.

Dad would have to drive me to my lessons, and he had always been drinking before he drove me. After a few months of listening to Mom and Dad arguing over money for my lessons, I threw my violin on the bed and started crying. I never took any further lessons, and that was another part of my life that I blocked out. To this day, I cannot read a note of music.

My high school years were not much better except we had a nice small house in a good area. Grandad gave my parents the money for a down payment. Beth and I had bunk beds for our room, and our brother had the smallest of the bedrooms, which did not even have a closet. Meals consisted mostly of canned yellow beans, potatoes, and fried hamburger or hotdogs.

Mom would make homemade spaghetti with ground beef and mushrooms in the sauce once in a while, which was a real treat for us. Our parents were arguing quite a bit, so it was a great break to go to Grandma and Grandad’s house where they had good food and there was no fighting.

I soon took an interest in roller skating, and Grandma bought me my first pair of roller skates. It was only fifty cents to get into the arena, and she always made sure that I had the money to go at least three times a week. Finally, something I enjoyed and was good at. The feeling of flying around the rink at a high rate of speed to the latest hits on the radio became my passion.

Skating also kept me in great shape. I had the long lean legs of a dancer and was proud to show them off in skimpy shorts, which were the style then. It also got me out of the house in the evenings as Mom and Dad were both drinking and smoking.

It got to the point where bills were not being paid, and Grandad would bail them out for the sake of his grandchildren as he would say, so we would have a roof over our heads.

When I was in my last year of high school, I started smoking marijuana with the girls I hung out with and staying out late. I skipped out of school a lot, and it is amazing that I did complete the year. During that year, I met a guy who had a motorcycle and was crazy about him. I never dated anyone from my own school because I was not part of the cool crowd. My parents freaked when I was picked up for my date with Richard on his motorcycle. He was my first love, and I gave myself to him.

When I was seventeen, Dad sat us down and said that he was going to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting that evening, and he remained sober until the day he passed away at the age of sixty-nine. No longer did we have to listen to Dad waking up each morning with the dry heaves.

As soon as I graduated, I moved to Oakville with my best friend. We immediately got jobs and a furnished apartment. It was great. We had enough money for our apartment, food, transportation, lots of clothes for the first time in my life as well as enough money to go out partying just about every night. I had no idea and was too selfish to think about what my sister Beth was going through still living at home. My brother who was two years younger than I moved out as well as soon as he completed high school one year after I did.

My childhood was not at all devastating compared to my sister Beth’s as you will soon learn.

BETH’S YOUNGER YEARS

I often wonder how I came to this place in my life. Could I have changed the chain of events? Would it change where my life is now?

Growing up, I knew I was different than other kids on my street and in my school. Other kids had interactive parents that dropped them off at school, met their teachers, and had summers planned with camp and other summer activities.

My friend down the street lived in a nice ranch bungalow, and I would spend time there often.

They went to church every Sunday, and they all dressed nice. Her mom would bring out popsicles for us in the backyard, but I was never allowed in the house. I think her mom knew about my family, which certainly was not like theirs.

Our house had a screened-in front porch with a swing you could lie down on. I slept there or read a book when I had bronchitis, which I often had in my early years, as well as pneumonia. I was born weighing just over four pounds and learned later that the smoking in the house did not help my lungs. Mom and Dad smoked in the house, and the walls were a yellow haze that I realize now why some of the kids on the street would not stay long if they did come over.

My mom was like a wounded bird. I thought of her caged up in the house day in and day out. I did not understand at that time that her depression and anxiety made her an agoraphobic. Mom was afraid to go out and fearful of strangers. She was a shut-in. Coming up the front steps for lunch, I would smell the cigarette smoke through her open bedroom window. Lunch would be ready for me, but she went back to bed again until I came home at the end of the school day.

I loved my mom but did not understand her. Much later in my life, I would understand why she had become a wounded bird.

My Dad was an alcoholic, and I was sheltered from the activities after nine at night and was well in bed when he got home. Jessica and I shared a room with bunk beds. She saw much more than I did in our younger years and protected me by keeping us in our bedroom when the yelling started. Jessica also remembers very well our family doctor coming to our house as I was sick quite often, especially between the ages of two to four. I do remember him lecturing my Mom about smoking around me and how kind the doctor was, which made me actually want to go home with him for protection. I often stayed at Grandma and Grandad’s when I was sick. They had good food, and there was no smoking. Grandma worked at a hospital in the kitchen, and Grandad worked on the assembly line at an automotive plant.

Grandma was very social and went out every Friday night with the girls after