I have been withholding some information from my blog. I know it's my blog and I get to choose what I will or will not share here. Yet, I feel incredibly dishonest and guilty and need to come clean. I have been back with new guy. I make no excuses for this. I am not perfect, in fact I am pretty broken and screwed up, but there is some ridiculous strong connection I have with this man that I can not ignore.
Anyway, that said, things are better. The fighting has subsided and it has been agreed that there will be ABSOLUTELY no hands. Am I crazy? Perhaps. I just don't know anymore. I am trying to get some balance in my life. I want to be in a loving relationship and I want it to be with this man. We still argue and fight. Too often for my taste. However, I am not used to fighting, or discussing, or laughing, loving, enjoying sex, talking about my feelings etc. in a relationship. My marriage was just so incredibly dysfunctional that I am still learning these things and it just doesn't come easy or natural. Admitting I am wrong, is so difficult for me. When we get into an argument, my immediate reaction is to tell him to get the F out and never come back, and this is how it usually goes down. I am simply unable to admit that I love him and don't want him to go and to ask him to stay or to forgive me.
It is as if I am a teenager still, and in some respects I believe that I am. I was married so young to someone so screwed up emotionally that I just stopped growing in that area of my life and then I had the audacity to bring children into this world when I was just a child myself and not equipped at all to deal with it. And then I stayed and stayed and stayed and I do not understand myself what I thought would change. I became so complacent and I did whatever I wanted without question and wasted so many years of my life and caused immeasurable damage to my children, who I truly, truly love with all of my being.
Last night La Petit told me he knew I had been seeing New Guy when I was still married to his father. I was. I denied it. I mean, seriously what kind of mother am I? Do I tell my son that his father and I stopped loving each other a long, long time ago and that I was so needy and desperate for love and affection that I couldn't wait until I moved out of the house to find a man? Should I have been honest and let my son think I am a slut and teach him that it is OK to not honor your marriage vows and that you should put your own wants and needs ahead of all else? Or do I stick to my lies and let him loose respect for me?
Why is everything so difficult?
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
Do you breathe me anymore...
Today I am sad. Very, very sad, down to the very bottom of my soul and I can not talk to anyone about it and can not even bring myself to blog about it.
People Suck.
People who judge other people really Suck.
Everything Sucks.
This can't be it...
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Help me walk another mile, just one more mile...
A day or so after the Prince's release from the hospital after the overdose, I spoke to his grandmother to see how he was doing since I was having a difficult time reaching him directly. She told me he was fine, but there had not been much conversation with him regarding his lifestyle, and what would and would not be tolerated from him if he was to continue living in their home as the girlfriend had been over around the clock and he lied to her as to why he was in the hospital, he told her he had low blood sugar, no mention of a drug overdose or that he was in trouble and needed help. If she were to find out what really happened, I am assuming she would not be happy and either break up with him or insist he get help, two scenarios that he is clearly not interested in entertaining.
I also inquired as to whether or not he had returned to work. His grandmother said to me, that no, not yet, but that SHE had to call his job and see if he was on the schedule for the upcoming days. I felt my blood boil. "YOU are calling?" I asked. I suggested that since he was 18 years old, and it is HIS job, that perhaps it would be better for him to start accepting some responsibility and maybe HE should actually call HIS job to see when he was supposed to be there. I suggested that maybe it would be better for him if she not do everything for him and that perhaps it would actually be to his benefit to start acting like a man and not a 5 year old and that maybe, just maybe if she stopped enabling him and throwing a pillow under his ass and covering up for him that maybe, just maybe, he would be forced to act like a man and either crash or burn. Needless to say, my advice was not appreciated.
I hung up the phone feeling very sad and discouraged and a bit guilty as it was my decision when he refused to embrace a clean and sober lifestyle to not allow him to live in my home any longer. I felt then, as I do now, that even though it was so painful to put him out of my house, that I could no longer enable him and I would not continue to let him steal from me, brings drugs into my home, and verbally abuse his brother and myself. I needed peace and serenity back in my life. I believed I was doing what was best for all of us. I never expected his grandparents, his grandmother specifically, to enable him to the extent that they have. I had to learn to detach myself from the situation, and to try to continue to love him in spite of his disease and the decisions he makes.
I finally spoke to my son about a week after his release from the hospital. It was very difficult for me to not go back to my old ways and lecture him, and demand he acknowledge he has a problem and to seek treatment. I was able to keep my anger mostly in check. I was a bit short with him and tried to make it clear to him that I would always be available to help him get help when he was ready. Once again, my unsolicited opinion and advice was not received warmly.
Yesterday the Prince called me at my office. The first thing he said to me was, "Mom, I need your help." My heart soared. I was ready to grab my coat and run out the door to take him to a meeting, a treatment facility, to the moon if need be. The words I have been longing to hear, finally spoken. I was cautious in choosing my words as the conversation continued, I told him, "Of course Baby, whatever you need." His response sunk my heart as fast as his initial words made it leap. He wanted my help buying a new computer. My disappointment was more than palpable. Then I became confused. I am not an expert in technology and I often turn to the Prince when I make any kind of technology purchases, I didn't understand how he could possibly need MY help with this, and I so inquired. He then proceeded to laugh and tell me that he needed my help financially, as in he needed MY money to buy a new computer. I could hardly contain my laughter. My typical response when he asks me for money is that he should get a job. He responded that he had a job, and could pay me back. I asked him if he had been back to work since the "incident". He said, well no, but he was planning on calling today to see if he was back on the schedule. This kid, just doesn't get it. So I said good luck with the computer and goodbye.
Letting go, with love, and just a little bit of anger.
I also inquired as to whether or not he had returned to work. His grandmother said to me, that no, not yet, but that SHE had to call his job and see if he was on the schedule for the upcoming days. I felt my blood boil. "YOU are calling?" I asked. I suggested that since he was 18 years old, and it is HIS job, that perhaps it would be better for him to start accepting some responsibility and maybe HE should actually call HIS job to see when he was supposed to be there. I suggested that maybe it would be better for him if she not do everything for him and that perhaps it would actually be to his benefit to start acting like a man and not a 5 year old and that maybe, just maybe if she stopped enabling him and throwing a pillow under his ass and covering up for him that maybe, just maybe, he would be forced to act like a man and either crash or burn. Needless to say, my advice was not appreciated.
I hung up the phone feeling very sad and discouraged and a bit guilty as it was my decision when he refused to embrace a clean and sober lifestyle to not allow him to live in my home any longer. I felt then, as I do now, that even though it was so painful to put him out of my house, that I could no longer enable him and I would not continue to let him steal from me, brings drugs into my home, and verbally abuse his brother and myself. I needed peace and serenity back in my life. I believed I was doing what was best for all of us. I never expected his grandparents, his grandmother specifically, to enable him to the extent that they have. I had to learn to detach myself from the situation, and to try to continue to love him in spite of his disease and the decisions he makes.
I finally spoke to my son about a week after his release from the hospital. It was very difficult for me to not go back to my old ways and lecture him, and demand he acknowledge he has a problem and to seek treatment. I was able to keep my anger mostly in check. I was a bit short with him and tried to make it clear to him that I would always be available to help him get help when he was ready. Once again, my unsolicited opinion and advice was not received warmly.
Yesterday the Prince called me at my office. The first thing he said to me was, "Mom, I need your help." My heart soared. I was ready to grab my coat and run out the door to take him to a meeting, a treatment facility, to the moon if need be. The words I have been longing to hear, finally spoken. I was cautious in choosing my words as the conversation continued, I told him, "Of course Baby, whatever you need." His response sunk my heart as fast as his initial words made it leap. He wanted my help buying a new computer. My disappointment was more than palpable. Then I became confused. I am not an expert in technology and I often turn to the Prince when I make any kind of technology purchases, I didn't understand how he could possibly need MY help with this, and I so inquired. He then proceeded to laugh and tell me that he needed my help financially, as in he needed MY money to buy a new computer. I could hardly contain my laughter. My typical response when he asks me for money is that he should get a job. He responded that he had a job, and could pay me back. I asked him if he had been back to work since the "incident". He said, well no, but he was planning on calling today to see if he was back on the schedule. This kid, just doesn't get it. So I said good luck with the computer and goodbye.
Letting go, with love, and just a little bit of anger.
Monday, January 07, 2008
And considerately killing me...
My phone rang at 4:30 a.m. on January 2nd. We all know that a phone ringing at 4 a.m is never a good thing. It was my ex-father in law, telling me my Prince was being taken to the hospital via ambulance as he had been found outside the house, unconscious, barely breathing and wearing only a pair of sweatpants.
He gained consciousness a few hours later, but was way, way out of it. He was nodding, and he was bloated and his heart rate was irregular and his brain was not getting enough oxygen as he kept pulling out the oxygen tubes and ripping out the IV lines. He told me during one "awakening" that he had taken morphine.
It was determined that he had overdosed on Morphine. My guess is that it was heroine, but due to the privacy laws, they can not disclose what his toxicology reports showed. Since he told me morphine, and heroine shows up as morphine, they could only confirm to me that, that was in his system, in considerable amounts. I do not know if there were other drugs in his system, although I suspect there were. I love that I can pay for his insurance, and sit by his bed trembling in fear that he will not wake up, but he is entitled to privacy as far as to what almost killed him.
He was kept in the ICU for two days until they stabilized him and he was released over the weekend. Back to his grandparents house. They are quiet, proud people, who do not like to discuss these things, and I do not think there has been a consequence or any kind of ultimatums given to my son as far as seeking treatment, getting help or getting out. This disturbs me. I have also not spoken to my son since he was released. He does not return my phone calls. I am hoping that he is just feeling ashamed for his actions. But somehow, I don't think so. He was very flippant about the whole situation, like, "Yeah, so what, I did morphine, I didn't die". He has no recall of what happened to him that night.
So this is me, starting the new year, letting him go. I love him, but I can not watch him kill himself any longer.
He gained consciousness a few hours later, but was way, way out of it. He was nodding, and he was bloated and his heart rate was irregular and his brain was not getting enough oxygen as he kept pulling out the oxygen tubes and ripping out the IV lines. He told me during one "awakening" that he had taken morphine.
It was determined that he had overdosed on Morphine. My guess is that it was heroine, but due to the privacy laws, they can not disclose what his toxicology reports showed. Since he told me morphine, and heroine shows up as morphine, they could only confirm to me that, that was in his system, in considerable amounts. I do not know if there were other drugs in his system, although I suspect there were. I love that I can pay for his insurance, and sit by his bed trembling in fear that he will not wake up, but he is entitled to privacy as far as to what almost killed him.
He was kept in the ICU for two days until they stabilized him and he was released over the weekend. Back to his grandparents house. They are quiet, proud people, who do not like to discuss these things, and I do not think there has been a consequence or any kind of ultimatums given to my son as far as seeking treatment, getting help or getting out. This disturbs me. I have also not spoken to my son since he was released. He does not return my phone calls. I am hoping that he is just feeling ashamed for his actions. But somehow, I don't think so. He was very flippant about the whole situation, like, "Yeah, so what, I did morphine, I didn't die". He has no recall of what happened to him that night.
So this is me, starting the new year, letting him go. I love him, but I can not watch him kill himself any longer.
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