Tuesday, June 1, 2010

My second born son is staying here again. It was to be for a few days when he called on my anniversary needing a place to stay. His girlfriend broke up with him and kicked him out of her house. Why couldn't I say "Too bad"? My husband has extended the couple of days to June 9, the day before we leave for vacation.

It is so difficult for me to have him here. When he isn't living here, I can hope that he's getting himself together. When he is living here, hope dies again.

It isn't even as if he spends any real time at our house. If he isn't at work, he's out partying. I hear the door at 4 am and then again at 4:08 as he comes in long enough to put on his work clothes and then leave for work. He gets off at 12:30 pm and goes straight to "a friend's" house to "sleep". His days off, he's over at "a friend's". When we ask him if he's found a room, he says that he's been talking A LOT with his friend about moving to Richmond.

He will only start looking for a room on June 9Th.

I wish I didn't care. How do you stop caring? How do you stop seeing bleary eyes and a raw nose? It isn't fair that I feel the pain of his self destruction while he lives oblivious to everything and everyone.

I have to put the hurt somewhere so I am putting it here. If I talk with my husband, he gets angry. He's sick of hearing me grieve aloud about it. He says I punish him for what our son is or isn't doing. If I want to stay married I must stop talking about our son.

I hate when my husband asks me what the matter is. I want to tear my clothes and scream and let out the constant living grief. I want to tell him that something is and always will be the matter as long as my son is an addict. I want to grab my son and pound the madness out of him. I want to open my eyes to sunlight that signals the end of the nightmare. I want people to stop telling me he's a "good kid" and everything is going to work out OK because they don't know anything else to say. I want them to stop asking me how he is because I'm sick of the look on their faces when I tell them how he really is. I want God to reach down from heaven and DO something.

I am going to be OK as soon as he's out of my home and if his dad doesn't put him out, I will.

I just have to make it to June 9.