I have been struggling with my feelings lately. My feelings about getting older, about being alone vs. being lonely, feelings of dissappointment, rejection. You name it, I am feeling it.
Let me begin at the beginning here. I recently turned 39. Began my fourtieth year. My Prince no has not lived with me since November of 2006. He refers to his grandparents house as his "home" now. I have just put an offer on a two family house I am interested in buying so I can share a residence with my parents and help my mother with my father as his health deteriorates at a rapid pace. I mentioned this to the AH over the weekend and he made no reference to whether he was invited to join us or not. So in a matter of a few short months I will probably, finally be divorced. It will be just La Petite and I and my parents. Somehow this seems like a great big step backward not forward.
I spoke with my therapist last week about my contuinued reluctance to leave this man whom I have not felt romantic love for in a very, very long time. A man who does not meet or fulfill a single one of my needs, a man who treats his children like third class citizens. And yet, I am still plagued with doubts. And I think I am finally understanding why. I am hurt that he doesnt want me either. Arent I just a bit too old to be feeling this way? Still the constant need to be needed, just a little girl wanting to be wanted by a boy? I am scared to death that I will end up alone and yet I have alone for the better part of 10 years. This man does not fulfill me emotionally, physically or spiritually. It is like I have a tenant living in my house who occasionally eats meals with us and runs errands for me.
I guess I have always been reluctant to feel my feelings. This is perhaps the reason why I have excelled in co-dependency. My therapist suggested that my self esteem seems to be at issue here. That I do not feel that I am worthy of being loved. As I reflect on this I realize that the two men in my life that I always thought would love and want me, well they do not. The soul mate moved on and lives a parrallel life to me. Life with an active alcoholic that he thinks he can cure, and her son that he thiks he can save. And AH, it seems has had enough and is willing to travel his owns life path now. With no interference or emasculation from me.
So it will be just me. What a strange journey this will be, and I hope you will all stay by my side as I travel it.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
I have been tagged by Tab. I LOVE being tagged, so here goes....
8 Things about me (that you never asked to hear)
1- The second toe on my right foot is longer than the rest. It also has a weird hourglass shape to it. I am so vain that I have thought often over the years of having painful surgery to correct this. I still may do it.
2- I have never really enjoyed sex with AH. I have not slept with him in over 3 years. I have no idea what he does for sex, nor do I care.
3- As a result, I have gone astray with 4 different men over the years. Each one, more innapropriate than the one before him.
4- I don't think that I have ever really been in love. With the exception of my children, I have come to seriously doubt my ability to love completely and unconditionally.
5- I am often embarrassed by my family.
6- I am average. Average intelligence, average height, average looking, average athletic ability and I hate it. I always wanted to stand out from the crowd.
7- I have been more honest on this blog than I have ever been in my real life. For some reason, this is easy for me. It is refreshing and cleansing.
8- My mother is my best friend.
So now I tag: Working Mom
Scout
Judith
Beth
Have fun kids....
8 Things about me (that you never asked to hear)
1- The second toe on my right foot is longer than the rest. It also has a weird hourglass shape to it. I am so vain that I have thought often over the years of having painful surgery to correct this. I still may do it.
2- I have never really enjoyed sex with AH. I have not slept with him in over 3 years. I have no idea what he does for sex, nor do I care.
3- As a result, I have gone astray with 4 different men over the years. Each one, more innapropriate than the one before him.
4- I don't think that I have ever really been in love. With the exception of my children, I have come to seriously doubt my ability to love completely and unconditionally.
5- I am often embarrassed by my family.
6- I am average. Average intelligence, average height, average looking, average athletic ability and I hate it. I always wanted to stand out from the crowd.
7- I have been more honest on this blog than I have ever been in my real life. For some reason, this is easy for me. It is refreshing and cleansing.
8- My mother is my best friend.
So now I tag: Working Mom
Scout
Judith
Beth
Have fun kids....
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Illusions never change...
As I stood in line Sunday morning at Strabucks, I took took notice of the man in front of me. This is a habit of mine. I do more than a quick glanceover to the person in front of me on a line, I study them, I listen to their conversations. I check for a wedding ring, try to see if they are wearing socks, who designed their bags, etc. and then I try to figure out if they seem happy, and if so what they have done differently than I did to achieve that.
This particular man was not very well groomed, his neck needed shaving, his hair was too long and without lines, his clothes were shabby: stained, ill fitting jeans, paint stained workboots, and maybe a torn t-shirt representing his favorite beer. A wedding ring. I heard him speaking to one of the baristas behind the counter, and he is apparently expecting his first child with his wife. He was so excited. It is going to be a boy. Then he started saying how afraid he was, that his new son might end up a derelict one day just like he was/is. I appreciated his honesty and forthrightness about this. I think those of us who did not have perfect childhoods, messy adoleecence, lacking ivy league degrees, feel this way about our offspring but so few are afraid to vocalize it. To give it a voice. To say, hey, I wasn't perfect, I'm still not, and now I am bringing another person in this world and I have no idea how to prevent history from repeating itself.
But you should have seen the sh-t eating grin on his face when he talked about his wife and un-born baby. Pure joy. I don't remember feeling that way when I got pregnant and married (yes, in that order). I can only remember the fear. Was I doing the right thing, was I old enough, smart enough, loving enough to raise a child? I have that same fear as the days wind down and I need to discuss with AH my plans. I have decided to buy a two-family house with my parents to help out my mom with my dad. She can help with La Petite and I willnot have to rent. I will still own something. It is a win-win situation.
But that fear, is something that always haunts me. Fear of making another bad decision and the ramifications that will follow in its path. But the funny thing is, if you were staning behind me in a line at Strabucks, you would never know it.
This particular man was not very well groomed, his neck needed shaving, his hair was too long and without lines, his clothes were shabby: stained, ill fitting jeans, paint stained workboots, and maybe a torn t-shirt representing his favorite beer. A wedding ring. I heard him speaking to one of the baristas behind the counter, and he is apparently expecting his first child with his wife. He was so excited. It is going to be a boy. Then he started saying how afraid he was, that his new son might end up a derelict one day just like he was/is. I appreciated his honesty and forthrightness about this. I think those of us who did not have perfect childhoods, messy adoleecence, lacking ivy league degrees, feel this way about our offspring but so few are afraid to vocalize it. To give it a voice. To say, hey, I wasn't perfect, I'm still not, and now I am bringing another person in this world and I have no idea how to prevent history from repeating itself.
But you should have seen the sh-t eating grin on his face when he talked about his wife and un-born baby. Pure joy. I don't remember feeling that way when I got pregnant and married (yes, in that order). I can only remember the fear. Was I doing the right thing, was I old enough, smart enough, loving enough to raise a child? I have that same fear as the days wind down and I need to discuss with AH my plans. I have decided to buy a two-family house with my parents to help out my mom with my dad. She can help with La Petite and I willnot have to rent. I will still own something. It is a win-win situation.
But that fear, is something that always haunts me. Fear of making another bad decision and the ramifications that will follow in its path. But the funny thing is, if you were staning behind me in a line at Strabucks, you would never know it.
Monday, July 16, 2007
And there he was this young boy, stranger to my eyes...
Exhausted, I fell into to bed somewhere around 10:30 on Thursday night. I fell immediately to sleep which is not my normal sleep pattern. The phone ringing somewhere around 11:15 p.m. startled me into wakefulness, with a feeling of dread, cause you know that the phone ringing after 11 p.m. is never a good thing. My father in law was on the other end and he was asking to speak to AH. I asked why, and if everything was OK with the Prince and he kept insisting to talk to AH. I got a bit nasty and insisted he tell me what the F was going on with my son. He told me that the Prince was being taken by ambulance to the local hospital, that he apparently was in some kind of fight and needed stitches on his face and he wasn't sure what else.
I went downstairs and woke up AH and gave him the phone and then I went to get dressed to head for the hospital to see how this latest drama would unfold. AH came up and asked me where I was going. When I told him I was going to the hospital, he was annoyed and asked why I was going. I mean seriously, is this a joke or what? My son is being taken by ambulance to the hospital, regardless of how minor or major the reason for it, I need to be there. Period.
I arrived at the hospital before the ambulance did. I waited for him to arrive and was relieved to see when he did, he was basically OK. He was bloody, he had taken a nice punch to the face that resulted in him cutting up the inside of his mouth enough to require stitches, and he was drunk. He was mostly coherent by that time, but he reeked of alcohol and his eyes were bloodshot and he had been crying. This is a kid who simply can not handle alcohol at all. We went outside so he could smoke a cigarette and so we could talk and I could try to get an idea of what had happened. He had somehow ended up at his ex-girlfriends (#2) house, and her parents, and my mother in law were all in the ER waiting with us.
I went downstairs and woke up AH and gave him the phone and then I went to get dressed to head for the hospital to see how this latest drama would unfold. AH came up and asked me where I was going. When I told him I was going to the hospital, he was annoyed and asked why I was going. I mean seriously, is this a joke or what? My son is being taken by ambulance to the hospital, regardless of how minor or major the reason for it, I need to be there. Period.
I arrived at the hospital before the ambulance did. I waited for him to arrive and was relieved to see when he did, he was basically OK. He was bloody, he had taken a nice punch to the face that resulted in him cutting up the inside of his mouth enough to require stitches, and he was drunk. He was mostly coherent by that time, but he reeked of alcohol and his eyes were bloodshot and he had been crying. This is a kid who simply can not handle alcohol at all. We went outside so he could smoke a cigarette and so we could talk and I could try to get an idea of what had happened. He had somehow ended up at his ex-girlfriends (#2) house, and her parents, and my mother in law were all in the ER waiting with us.
OK, first things first, where did he get the alcohol? Not that this is an impossible or even difficult task, but the answer was disturbing to me. Earlier that evening he was at my house to clean out his fish tank full of stagnant water and rotting dead fish after my many, many requests. I had taken La Petite to the movies and was not home when he was there. Apparently AH decided to go out as well. The Prince told me when he was at the house he decided to check and see if his father was still drinking and he rummaged through his work bag and found his vodka, and he stole it. Not for any particular reason, he just decided to take it and drink it. Maybe he was subconsciously trying to punish his father, maybe he is looking for his attention, or maybe he just wanted the free booze. Only he knows the answer to this particular question.
He kept babbling that he was going to get "whoever" had done this to him, as he had no idea who had hit him. I had managed to get from him that he had called his old ex-girlfriend (#1), the one who I have referred to a while back in this blog as the Toxic Princess. (I have spent the good part of an hour trying to link to the post in question: http://cloudiebay.blogspot.com/2007/02/beautiful-disaster.html with a pretty little tag, I just cant do it, sorry) . So either he called her or she called him and then he went to the more current ex-girlfriends (#2) house to be "safe". This is where the story becomes a bit convoluted. The police told me at this point, he was antagonizing whoever it was that hit him, provoking him, saying, c'mon, go ahead, hit me, and the kid hit him. One clean shot to the jaw that sent the Prince to the ground, blood spewing from his mouth. Too drunk to withstand the punch, to identify the puncher or defend himself or recall what had happened.
The ex-girlfriends (#2) parents came out, and seeing so much blood and the Prince lying in a pool of it, they called an ambulance in case he was seriously injured and then called his grandmother. Thankfully, after 3 or 4 hours in the ER, the extent of the injuries sustained by the Prince were nominal. A few stitches to the inside of his mouth, no fractures to the jaw and a very badly bruised collar bone which was initially suspected to be broken. A few Motrin and some antibiotics to ward off infection and we were sent on our way.
Throughout our time in the ER, the Prince kept asking me where his father was. I told him he was home with La Petite. I did not have the heart to tell him his dad had no interest in being there with his son. And I have to be honest, it took every inch of restraint I had in me to hold this back. It just amazes me that this kid is still desperately seeking his fathers approval. When I got home somewhere in the vicinity of 4 a.m. I realized AH did not bother to call or wait up to learn the outcome of his first born sons injuries. How sad is that?
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Theres got to be something better than in the middle...
As I sat at my kitchen table last night, reading our local paper, a photograph of the local councilman, mayor and an Eaggle Scout being honored caught my eye. The boy had achieved some kind of high court eaggle scout honor. After closer observation, I realized it was a friend of the Prince's. This is the kid who my Prince had taken his first drink with, (which incidentally resulted in the two of them vomiting vodka and grapefruit juice all over my den), they had, in their own words, "started their drug career" together. Everything from marijuana, pills, inhalants to cocaine. Before we were able to get the Prince into a program, the two of them proudly proclaimed together throughout their sophomore and junior years of high school, that they started together, and they would end together, and that rehab was for quitters and they weren't going to end it like that.
While the Prince was in the program, I had heard various reports of the level of this kids drug use. Sometimes I was told he was out of control, popping xanax like candy, he smoked so much pot he was "yellow", sometimes I heard he was clean, just smoking a little pot. I never really get the full story. All I know is, for the last 4 years he has been an active drug user, dealer and who knows what else, and now he has achieved some high eaggle scout honor and is smiling nice and pretty for the camera with the mayor and the councilman with his parents standing, smiling and proud next to him. The same parents who once cursed us out because he heard the boys were smoking hash in my garage. And my prince, well he is stocking shelves for a local marina.
I just can not understand why this has happened to us, and how I can prevent it from happening to La Petite. Why is it that my kids have been unable to achieve any small successes? I know better than to blame myself, but it is getting harder and harder to not these days. I mean this kid was a major player in the local drug culture in our neighborhood and now he is a highly honored scout, one to be looked up to and emulated by the youth in my community? I don't f-ing think so.
I know my bitterness here is palpable. My relationship with the Prince is not in a great place. He does not pick up his cell phone when I call him. This burns me up. We have a family vacation planned for early August and I need to be sure he has cleared the time off with his boss, I have other things I need him to take care of at my house. Belongings of his he needs to go through as I prepare to move out of this house. He has admitted to me that he has smoked pot recently and I know he is still drinking. If he is admitting to pot and alcohol, I am afraid to think what he is really using. I have not seen him since his birthday, so I cant even tell from looking at him.
So clearly I have not moved out of my dark, bleak mood just yet. I am going to try to catch a meeting in the next few days and maybe do some reading. Something here just has to give. I hope I am not becoming too dull and whiny for those of you who read my rantings. Either way I am sending lots of love to you all....
While the Prince was in the program, I had heard various reports of the level of this kids drug use. Sometimes I was told he was out of control, popping xanax like candy, he smoked so much pot he was "yellow", sometimes I heard he was clean, just smoking a little pot. I never really get the full story. All I know is, for the last 4 years he has been an active drug user, dealer and who knows what else, and now he has achieved some high eaggle scout honor and is smiling nice and pretty for the camera with the mayor and the councilman with his parents standing, smiling and proud next to him. The same parents who once cursed us out because he heard the boys were smoking hash in my garage. And my prince, well he is stocking shelves for a local marina.
I just can not understand why this has happened to us, and how I can prevent it from happening to La Petite. Why is it that my kids have been unable to achieve any small successes? I know better than to blame myself, but it is getting harder and harder to not these days. I mean this kid was a major player in the local drug culture in our neighborhood and now he is a highly honored scout, one to be looked up to and emulated by the youth in my community? I don't f-ing think so.
I know my bitterness here is palpable. My relationship with the Prince is not in a great place. He does not pick up his cell phone when I call him. This burns me up. We have a family vacation planned for early August and I need to be sure he has cleared the time off with his boss, I have other things I need him to take care of at my house. Belongings of his he needs to go through as I prepare to move out of this house. He has admitted to me that he has smoked pot recently and I know he is still drinking. If he is admitting to pot and alcohol, I am afraid to think what he is really using. I have not seen him since his birthday, so I cant even tell from looking at him.
So clearly I have not moved out of my dark, bleak mood just yet. I am going to try to catch a meeting in the next few days and maybe do some reading. Something here just has to give. I hope I am not becoming too dull and whiny for those of you who read my rantings. Either way I am sending lots of love to you all....
Monday, July 09, 2007
So here it is, another chance; wide awake you face the dayy...
I spent almost all of yesterday in bed, napping and enjoying the air conditioning, continuing to feel sorry for myself. La Petite has an overnight trip today with his camp. He is very excited and I was able to find pleasure in his delight and excitement about the trip. I had to drop him off early for camp, at 7:20 this morning. He is usually picked up at the house by bus at the house around 8:30 or so.
Last summer, the Prince was still living with me and I had to drop him off at his bus stop for his program and then I would drop off La Petite at camp. This morning reminded me of those days last summer. The Prince had just gotten clean and he looked so good. He had just started seeing a new girl and he was in love. I would get up early, make them breakfast and I would drive them to their stops and it was pleasant, nice actually. Things were hopeful. This morning made me feel sad that the Prince seems so far away from us. I feel kind of like I have been kicked in the teeth, that all I have done for him is forgotten. Do not misinterpret this to mean that I wish he was still living with me, but I do not. It just strikes me as sad, how broken apart my family is. I miss the days of making my kids lunch and their breakfast. It is nice to have peace in the house, but sometimes it is just a little too peaceful. It doesn't feel like a family anymore. We barely cook, we throw something quick together or go out for dinner most nights. It is just so empty.
Saturday morning I woke up early. La Petite had a friend sleep over and they stayed up late playing video games. It was a beautiful hot summer morning and I sat on the porch drinking my coffee. Alone. AH didn't get out of bed until 11:30 and by then I was running around with the boys and starting the day. The kids went swimming and I had some errands to run. Alone. I think that is what is really starting to get to me. So much aloneness. No one to have a freaking cup of coffee with, no one to spend the day with. La Petite is starting to really blossom and is starting to have a nice little social life of his own. I need a partner, a best friend, a lover. Or at least someone to have my coffee with. And this is what stirs up my toxic behavior.
Last summer, the Prince was still living with me and I had to drop him off at his bus stop for his program and then I would drop off La Petite at camp. This morning reminded me of those days last summer. The Prince had just gotten clean and he looked so good. He had just started seeing a new girl and he was in love. I would get up early, make them breakfast and I would drive them to their stops and it was pleasant, nice actually. Things were hopeful. This morning made me feel sad that the Prince seems so far away from us. I feel kind of like I have been kicked in the teeth, that all I have done for him is forgotten. Do not misinterpret this to mean that I wish he was still living with me, but I do not. It just strikes me as sad, how broken apart my family is. I miss the days of making my kids lunch and their breakfast. It is nice to have peace in the house, but sometimes it is just a little too peaceful. It doesn't feel like a family anymore. We barely cook, we throw something quick together or go out for dinner most nights. It is just so empty.
Saturday morning I woke up early. La Petite had a friend sleep over and they stayed up late playing video games. It was a beautiful hot summer morning and I sat on the porch drinking my coffee. Alone. AH didn't get out of bed until 11:30 and by then I was running around with the boys and starting the day. The kids went swimming and I had some errands to run. Alone. I think that is what is really starting to get to me. So much aloneness. No one to have a freaking cup of coffee with, no one to spend the day with. La Petite is starting to really blossom and is starting to have a nice little social life of his own. I need a partner, a best friend, a lover. Or at least someone to have my coffee with. And this is what stirs up my toxic behavior.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Tell me, what are you going to seek? The best through the worst? Virtue through vice?
Every once in a while, I find myself laying in bed, visualizing, actually seeing myself laying in that same bed, but with a greater sense of serenity and maybe being settled and happy for once. I had this feeling last night as I lay down and tried to go to sleep.
I believe this maybe my higher power telling me that some day, things will be different. Maybe not better, maybe not perfect, but different. Or maybe I believe I feel this way when I start to pull my head out of my butt and see that I have been running away again.
For as long as I can remember, I have been doing this. When I start to really feel depressed and sad and the reality of my life becomes too hard to bear, I run from it. I overbook myself. I spend too much time with friends socializing. I stay out of the house as much as I can, I let my bills fall behind, I let the house get messy and I just run and run and run.
It occurred to me yesterday that I am letting the Prince slip away from me. I am angry with him for not graduating HS and not doing anything about it instead of being proud of him for working time. I am angry at AH for being an alcoholic and disappointing me in this marriage and yet I have stayed here for far, far too long. I am angry with my Dad for being so sick and for not being able to take care of me and help me instead of spending more time with him and enjoying the time he has left and appreciating him for who he still is. I am sad because my brother is not the man I wish he was and hurt by the way he treats me and yet I do nothing to try to improve the relationship. I am jealous of friends who have become more successful in both their family and careers, so I pull away from them and allow the friendships to disintegrate and then feel sorry for myself that I have so few real friends left. I am profoundly sad about how little I speak to or see my prince and feel angry and resentful of him for not making more of an effort to be a part of my life, while I sit back and let these feelings fester instead of trying harder to be closer to him.
So I start to run. Push these feelings deep inside of me and avoid returning my therapists phone calls and I go shopping and spend money that I do not have on things I do not need. And I feel alone. So unbelievably alone. And I do no t know how to fix it. I do not know how to fix me. I do not know how to stop feeling sad and sorry for myself and resentful and jealous and the stinking thinking just consumes me until I run myself ragged trying to get away from pain and then I am so exhausted I just sleep. And then I wake up. Alone. And start the cycle all over again.
I believe this maybe my higher power telling me that some day, things will be different. Maybe not better, maybe not perfect, but different. Or maybe I believe I feel this way when I start to pull my head out of my butt and see that I have been running away again.
For as long as I can remember, I have been doing this. When I start to really feel depressed and sad and the reality of my life becomes too hard to bear, I run from it. I overbook myself. I spend too much time with friends socializing. I stay out of the house as much as I can, I let my bills fall behind, I let the house get messy and I just run and run and run.
It occurred to me yesterday that I am letting the Prince slip away from me. I am angry with him for not graduating HS and not doing anything about it instead of being proud of him for working time. I am angry at AH for being an alcoholic and disappointing me in this marriage and yet I have stayed here for far, far too long. I am angry with my Dad for being so sick and for not being able to take care of me and help me instead of spending more time with him and enjoying the time he has left and appreciating him for who he still is. I am sad because my brother is not the man I wish he was and hurt by the way he treats me and yet I do nothing to try to improve the relationship. I am jealous of friends who have become more successful in both their family and careers, so I pull away from them and allow the friendships to disintegrate and then feel sorry for myself that I have so few real friends left. I am profoundly sad about how little I speak to or see my prince and feel angry and resentful of him for not making more of an effort to be a part of my life, while I sit back and let these feelings fester instead of trying harder to be closer to him.
So I start to run. Push these feelings deep inside of me and avoid returning my therapists phone calls and I go shopping and spend money that I do not have on things I do not need. And I feel alone. So unbelievably alone. And I do no t know how to fix it. I do not know how to fix me. I do not know how to stop feeling sad and sorry for myself and resentful and jealous and the stinking thinking just consumes me until I run myself ragged trying to get away from pain and then I am so exhausted I just sleep. And then I wake up. Alone. And start the cycle all over again.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Why should I feel sad, for what I never had, nothing, equals nothing...
It has been an interesting week here in my little corner of the world. Last week I posted about having a few extra vaca days, I tacked them on to the 4th of July holiday and took a nice 5 day weekend. AH suggested that since I have this unexpected time off we take La Petit and his friend to Montauk for a few days. I was skeptical about having to spend so much time alone with AH, we do not get along very well, and we rarely spend any time alone together.
We booked a little suite on the ocean, a nice little place and we spent the afternoons alternating sitting by the pool or the beach. In the evenings we walked a bit threw the little town and had dinner and we made a bonfire on the beach to toast marshmallows. Lots of people were setting off some pretty nice fireworks at night, so we had out own little private show. It was pretty cool.
I thought maybe spending some time together would some how renew us, bring us back. It did not. It was not awful or miserable or even terribly painful. But we have progressed to a place where we are more like brother and sister. We can carry on a conversation, but nothing too deep, or we will argue. We have very little left in common, I don't care about his job and he doesn't care about mine. We no longer really have any mutual friends and our philosophies on parenting also differ greatly. His drinking is frightening. Non-stop, from early in the afternoon (if you can consider 11:45 a.m. "early" afternoon) until bed time. He justified it by saying it is Montauk, it is vacation, etc. Not that I made any mention of it. I know better at this point in my life. It was funny, he was trying to encourage me to drink with him. Suggesting a frozen cocktail to me at noon. No one likes to drink alone I guess, not that it stopped him. I worried that La Petit would be embarrassed in front of his friend at the amount his father was drinking. He doesn't appear drunk unless you know him. He does get a little looser, but he carries the same demeanor unless he switches to vodka.
It has been a long time since I have been around him long enough to witness the drinking and his habits. Its funny how it all comes back to you and it just served to show me that there is truly nothing left between us. He offers nothing to me that I want. I can tolerate this until the house is sold, and I feel hopeful that we will part in a positive way. He is still an attractive man and I am sure he will meet someone quickly if he is so inclined. I don't feel love or sadness at the lack of it coming from him anymore. I guess it is more like a mutual, understanding? For lack of a better word.
Anyway, I am still really crazed here at work and I just wanted to post quickly to catch up and send out some love to all of you. I will try to make the rounds this morning.
We booked a little suite on the ocean, a nice little place and we spent the afternoons alternating sitting by the pool or the beach. In the evenings we walked a bit threw the little town and had dinner and we made a bonfire on the beach to toast marshmallows. Lots of people were setting off some pretty nice fireworks at night, so we had out own little private show. It was pretty cool.
I thought maybe spending some time together would some how renew us, bring us back. It did not. It was not awful or miserable or even terribly painful. But we have progressed to a place where we are more like brother and sister. We can carry on a conversation, but nothing too deep, or we will argue. We have very little left in common, I don't care about his job and he doesn't care about mine. We no longer really have any mutual friends and our philosophies on parenting also differ greatly. His drinking is frightening. Non-stop, from early in the afternoon (if you can consider 11:45 a.m. "early" afternoon) until bed time. He justified it by saying it is Montauk, it is vacation, etc. Not that I made any mention of it. I know better at this point in my life. It was funny, he was trying to encourage me to drink with him. Suggesting a frozen cocktail to me at noon. No one likes to drink alone I guess, not that it stopped him. I worried that La Petit would be embarrassed in front of his friend at the amount his father was drinking. He doesn't appear drunk unless you know him. He does get a little looser, but he carries the same demeanor unless he switches to vodka.
It has been a long time since I have been around him long enough to witness the drinking and his habits. Its funny how it all comes back to you and it just served to show me that there is truly nothing left between us. He offers nothing to me that I want. I can tolerate this until the house is sold, and I feel hopeful that we will part in a positive way. He is still an attractive man and I am sure he will meet someone quickly if he is so inclined. I don't feel love or sadness at the lack of it coming from him anymore. I guess it is more like a mutual, understanding? For lack of a better word.
Anyway, I am still really crazed here at work and I just wanted to post quickly to catch up and send out some love to all of you. I will try to make the rounds this morning.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
You say it's your birthday...
Sorry I haven't posted all week. I am happy to say this is not a result of any new drama. Just a busy week at work. I work on a fiscal year that closes tomorrow and therefore this is my hell week.
Last Sunday was my 39th birthday. Thank you Tab for putting up the birthday props!! I love you girl!!! This was probably the nicest birthday celebration weekend that I ever had. I guess when you do not expect too much, it exceeds your expectations!! Last Friday I went out for dinner with a great friend of mine from my old job. She is probably about 14 years older than me, but she is like a sister to me. She lost her brother to Pancreatic Cancer almost 20 years ago so she understands what I have been going through with my Dad the last few years. Her husband, her senior by another 14 years is also currently dying of cancer. Liver Cancer. He is an alcoholic and the abuse to his body is not helping his cause. We are able to speak freely to each other regarding our feelings of her husband and my Dad dying and that is just nice. Refreshing. We do not have to sugar coat it and we can laugh and make jokes about our situations.
Saturday night a few of my gurlies took me into Manhattan for dinner and a show. It was an audience participation show, it was a faux prom, and it was a blast. We laughed and danced all night. I haven't done that in years. My body felt it the next day, though. BIG TIME. Sunday, my real birthday, 33 people from my family, cousins, aunt and uncle and the cousins kids, my mom, La Petit and myself, went to a Mets game. It was coincidence that it landed on my birthday, I am an Yankee fan, but we had a blast. How nice to see all of my cousins, grown with kids of our own, and some of the grown cousins kids even have kids now. It is nice to have family. We wrapped up the day with a BBQ back at my parents. I am getting along much better with my mom these days and it was just a perfect weekend. The only negative part of it was that the Prince did not show up for my BBQ. It hurt me deeply. When I saw him Monday night briefly he said he went out instead and then tried to backtrack and say he thought I would be at the Met game until late that evening even though I told him that morning we were having a BBQ at around 6:30.
I did not freak out, I barely let him see how hurt I was. I just said, Oh. OK. And I let it go. I am very sad at the way our relationship is going. We barely have one at all. He doesn't call me and I don't call him. Maybe just once or twice a week. He is doing his own thing, I haven't gotten any reports from my in laws regarding him drinking or drugging. So I can assume he is behaving. I can only pray. I guess we will just have to give it some time until we are both comfortable with the roles we are going to play in each others lives. I am just not sure what that is going to be at this point. I think I am afraid to get too close to him again for fear of him lying to me and him drinking and drugging. I am trying to accept him for who he is and then I guess the rest will just come naturally?
Last Sunday was my 39th birthday. Thank you Tab for putting up the birthday props!! I love you girl!!! This was probably the nicest birthday celebration weekend that I ever had. I guess when you do not expect too much, it exceeds your expectations!! Last Friday I went out for dinner with a great friend of mine from my old job. She is probably about 14 years older than me, but she is like a sister to me. She lost her brother to Pancreatic Cancer almost 20 years ago so she understands what I have been going through with my Dad the last few years. Her husband, her senior by another 14 years is also currently dying of cancer. Liver Cancer. He is an alcoholic and the abuse to his body is not helping his cause. We are able to speak freely to each other regarding our feelings of her husband and my Dad dying and that is just nice. Refreshing. We do not have to sugar coat it and we can laugh and make jokes about our situations.
Saturday night a few of my gurlies took me into Manhattan for dinner and a show. It was an audience participation show, it was a faux prom, and it was a blast. We laughed and danced all night. I haven't done that in years. My body felt it the next day, though. BIG TIME. Sunday, my real birthday, 33 people from my family, cousins, aunt and uncle and the cousins kids, my mom, La Petit and myself, went to a Mets game. It was coincidence that it landed on my birthday, I am an Yankee fan, but we had a blast. How nice to see all of my cousins, grown with kids of our own, and some of the grown cousins kids even have kids now. It is nice to have family. We wrapped up the day with a BBQ back at my parents. I am getting along much better with my mom these days and it was just a perfect weekend. The only negative part of it was that the Prince did not show up for my BBQ. It hurt me deeply. When I saw him Monday night briefly he said he went out instead and then tried to backtrack and say he thought I would be at the Met game until late that evening even though I told him that morning we were having a BBQ at around 6:30.
I did not freak out, I barely let him see how hurt I was. I just said, Oh. OK. And I let it go. I am very sad at the way our relationship is going. We barely have one at all. He doesn't call me and I don't call him. Maybe just once or twice a week. He is doing his own thing, I haven't gotten any reports from my in laws regarding him drinking or drugging. So I can assume he is behaving. I can only pray. I guess we will just have to give it some time until we are both comfortable with the roles we are going to play in each others lives. I am just not sure what that is going to be at this point. I think I am afraid to get too close to him again for fear of him lying to me and him drinking and drugging. I am trying to accept him for who he is and then I guess the rest will just come naturally?
So maybe I will throw out a little gratitude...
- Finding out that I have 2.5 unused vacation days that will give me a 4.5 day weekend starting at 1 o'clock this afternoon
- Spending the last birthday of my 30s with my friends and family and really feeling the love
- La Petit actually skipping onto his camp bus this morning on his way to his first day of camp, he is still such a sweet innocent little thing
- Blogger buddies who share their advice, love and experience with me, it really gets me threw the days and it still amazes me how close to you all I feel
- Friends and family leaving me voice mails singing Happy Birthday, something bout that just brings a big old grin to my face
- The Prince seems to be holding it together, just for today
- The ability to feel gratitude and the means to express it
Have a great day y'all!
Friday, June 22, 2007
Erase myselff, and let go of what I've done...
La Petit "graduated" from the sixth grade yesterday. There was a moving up ceremony and a dance last night to celebrate this milestone. He has been expressing his unhappiness with my decision to sell the house and move to a different neighborhood lately. We moved to this neighborhood when the Prince was the exact same age. We previously lived in a neighborhood that was far more privileged than where we live now. Most of the children were home with nannies while the Dads were out performing surgery and the Moms were getting nose jobs and tennis lessons. It was also a very competitive district and I did not think the Prince would find success there. I thought we would be better off in a neighborhood with people who were more socio-economically in line with us.
We are working people, we do well, we do not want for much, but we aren't wiping our arses with hundred dollar bills either. I have a tendency to need change and lots of it, as though I am chasing something that seems to keep slipping through my fingers, so I then need to move on and look for it somewhere else. This move will be different (if I ever sell my house that is). It will mark the end of my marriage and the beginning of a new life for La Petit and I. It is not possible for me to stay in the house we own now on my own. So staying in the house is not an option for me. I also have a long, traffic filled commute to get to my job so logistically it will greatly improve the quality of my life to move to the northern side of this island we call home.
La Petit is very sad about this. I feel guilt and trepidation about moving him. My town is large and accessibility to drugs and alcohol for the local teens is as simple as walking into the bathroom in the middle school. I know that drugs are a problem everywhere. But I KNOW first hand what goes on in this town, how the teachers covered up fro my Prince, how the police just tell the kids to dump their pot and grind it into the dirt when the kids are caught with it, how our local park, which is heavily wooded is a paradise for the local kids to hang out and get drunk, high and laid till all hours of the night. We have a unique last name and I do not want the Princes reputation to precede his younger brother. My son was notorious in this town. The big stoner, the druggie, if you need something, just call the Prince, he can tell you where to get it, etc. etc.
So although I feel as though I am once again running from my life, I feel the need to change the environment, to get away from the painful memories that haunt me at every corner of this town. I want to be invisible again, anonymous. I want La Petit to start fresh and to embrace a new life for us. But what if it hurts him? What if it makes him resentful and angry? What is he suppresses that anger and it grows into a rage and he can not identify that rage and then he turns to drugs and alcohol to silence that rage and pain and to numb it all out and shut off his feelings? What if one day in the near future I have to let this one go too? What will I have left?
We are working people, we do well, we do not want for much, but we aren't wiping our arses with hundred dollar bills either. I have a tendency to need change and lots of it, as though I am chasing something that seems to keep slipping through my fingers, so I then need to move on and look for it somewhere else. This move will be different (if I ever sell my house that is). It will mark the end of my marriage and the beginning of a new life for La Petit and I. It is not possible for me to stay in the house we own now on my own. So staying in the house is not an option for me. I also have a long, traffic filled commute to get to my job so logistically it will greatly improve the quality of my life to move to the northern side of this island we call home.
La Petit is very sad about this. I feel guilt and trepidation about moving him. My town is large and accessibility to drugs and alcohol for the local teens is as simple as walking into the bathroom in the middle school. I know that drugs are a problem everywhere. But I KNOW first hand what goes on in this town, how the teachers covered up fro my Prince, how the police just tell the kids to dump their pot and grind it into the dirt when the kids are caught with it, how our local park, which is heavily wooded is a paradise for the local kids to hang out and get drunk, high and laid till all hours of the night. We have a unique last name and I do not want the Princes reputation to precede his younger brother. My son was notorious in this town. The big stoner, the druggie, if you need something, just call the Prince, he can tell you where to get it, etc. etc.
So although I feel as though I am once again running from my life, I feel the need to change the environment, to get away from the painful memories that haunt me at every corner of this town. I want to be invisible again, anonymous. I want La Petit to start fresh and to embrace a new life for us. But what if it hurts him? What if it makes him resentful and angry? What is he suppresses that anger and it grows into a rage and he can not identify that rage and then he turns to drugs and alcohol to silence that rage and pain and to numb it all out and shut off his feelings? What if one day in the near future I have to let this one go too? What will I have left?
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Hold on, it's better than you think...
I have to really say thank you to all of my blogger buddies for being there and really listening and really caring about me. I can not express how much it and all of you have come to mean to me. Its truly a beautiful thing, this online bond we have all developed, and I have truly grown to love you all. It means even more, because each of you can relate to my situation from one point of view or another, some of you are in recovery, some are parents of addicts like myself, and some have other family experiences that connect us. The rest of the world, it has been my experience, just don't get it. Seriously, while I appreciate some of the advice my "normie" friends have offered me, trust me when I tell you, sitting down to dinner as a family every night is not going to get my son to stay clean.
To give you a brief update, the Prince and I have still not spoken since Fathers day. His grandparents and father spoke to him at length on Tuesday evening, and basically, from what I can drag out of these, strange, secretive, communication-challenged people, is that they laid down the guidelines. No more drinking and/or drugging. Period. Not if he wants to continue to live under their roof. It was also explained to him that he is still a very, very long way from being welcomed back into living in my home. I do not believe he is working a program although he tells his grandmother he is going to meetings. I am letting it go. I have basically let him go. This is how it has to be. I am not going to say it doesn't hurt like hell. But I know this has to be done. For my own sanity. I am not ready to speak to him yet, because I am not sure I can do so without reacting. When I am ready, I will call him and hopefully we can learn to have a relationship that will be loving without me trying to make decisions for him, or me being angry when he doesn't do what I want him to do.
I need to be a little honest here, I am secretly thinking deep in my soul, that if I don not see or speak to him, that he will feel guilty and make the right decisions. I know this is ridiculous, and it shows I still have ALOT of work to do on myself. In fact, in reality I am sure the opposite is true. When he was using, and he was in really bad shape, and I was taking him to court and things were just so awful and he was just so sick, we were having a huge fight, police were called, CPS got involved shortly thereafter because it got physical between the Prince and his father, and he was crying. He was begging me to just give up, to just let him do his thing, and I could not imagine a day would ever come that I would be capable of doing such a thing. Well, let me clarify that, I am NOT giving up on him, I will NEVER give up on him, but I need to distance myself from him for now. So maybe he is glad that I am finally giving him some space, giving him enough of the proverbial rope. I just pray he doesn't hang himself with it.
But if he does, I hope I can remember that it was his decision. Not mine, I am finally going to let him own this.
To give you a brief update, the Prince and I have still not spoken since Fathers day. His grandparents and father spoke to him at length on Tuesday evening, and basically, from what I can drag out of these, strange, secretive, communication-challenged people, is that they laid down the guidelines. No more drinking and/or drugging. Period. Not if he wants to continue to live under their roof. It was also explained to him that he is still a very, very long way from being welcomed back into living in my home. I do not believe he is working a program although he tells his grandmother he is going to meetings. I am letting it go. I have basically let him go. This is how it has to be. I am not going to say it doesn't hurt like hell. But I know this has to be done. For my own sanity. I am not ready to speak to him yet, because I am not sure I can do so without reacting. When I am ready, I will call him and hopefully we can learn to have a relationship that will be loving without me trying to make decisions for him, or me being angry when he doesn't do what I want him to do.
I need to be a little honest here, I am secretly thinking deep in my soul, that if I don not see or speak to him, that he will feel guilty and make the right decisions. I know this is ridiculous, and it shows I still have ALOT of work to do on myself. In fact, in reality I am sure the opposite is true. When he was using, and he was in really bad shape, and I was taking him to court and things were just so awful and he was just so sick, we were having a huge fight, police were called, CPS got involved shortly thereafter because it got physical between the Prince and his father, and he was crying. He was begging me to just give up, to just let him do his thing, and I could not imagine a day would ever come that I would be capable of doing such a thing. Well, let me clarify that, I am NOT giving up on him, I will NEVER give up on him, but I need to distance myself from him for now. So maybe he is glad that I am finally giving him some space, giving him enough of the proverbial rope. I just pray he doesn't hang himself with it.
But if he does, I hope I can remember that it was his decision. Not mine, I am finally going to let him own this.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Step one, he says we need to talk...
So, I am writing this from home, on the laptop, which I am terrible at typing on. So please forgive any major typos or errors.
*****EXPLICIT LANGUAGE WARNING*****
If the over use or abuse of the F word offend you... please stop reading now, cause I am in a vicious vile mood...
Ok, so now that the warnings are out of the way, let me just say this. MOTHERFUCKER. I feel as though the last 2 years of my life and my time and my money been pissed away in vain. I have not spoken to the Prince since Sunday. He is actively drinking and I am quit sure he is using again as well. My guess is weed, and I am almost certain he is using coke again.
I mean, WHAT THE FUCK. Seriously. Is this kid on a suicide mission or what??? He has been out of rehab for 11 days. He has come home stumbling drunk at a minimum of 2 of those days. (yes, Tab, my soul sister we are living parallel lives) The amount of money he has gone through leads me to believe he is using again. My in laws called us over for a " family meeting" tonight, due to his behavior to set boundaries or make decisions. I refused to go. If this fucking kid wants to kill himself, then do not let me stand in his f-ing way. Seriously. i am so trying to let go and work a program, but how exactly am I supposed to do that when every time I am supposed to go to a meeting, he fucks up and I am either expected to come clean it up or I need to be home to take care of La Petit. To top it off, the AH goes to his parents, spends 3 hours there, during which time I find a bottle of vodka and a bunch of empties hidden under his bed and when he gets home he has little or nothing to say about what was discussed, only that my kid is a fuck up, and he cant wait till he ends up in jail so he doesn't have to deal.
So, really, someone, please enlighten me. What the Fuck do I do now??? I can't save this kid, I get this now. But I cant take a fucking bat to his skull either. I am just so fucking done, someone, please stick a fork in me. I am just so disappointed. I am just so sad. i just want it to stop. Really, I get it, I am a bad mom. I have been tried and convicted.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
They wannna make me go to rehab, I say noo. no. no...
Today, at exactly 9:42 a.m. my Prince turned 18 years old.
Seriously. My Prince is 18.
How exactly is it possible that I am old enough to be the mother of someone who is old enough to fight for his country, buy cigarettes, and play lotto, but he can not legally buy a beer; yet he has already spent close to the last 2 years of his life in rehab, and he attends both AA and NA meetings???
There is something seriously wrong with this world.
Friday, June 15, 2007
So I held my head up high, hiding hate that burns inside...
The theme of my blog to date has mostly been about my journey of being the mother of a drug addicted/alcoholic son. This has also been the main focus of my life for the last few years. I am finally embracing the twelve steps of al-anon in order to improve the quality of my own life. I do not expect it to be easy, as I have made alot of my own mistakes and continue the cycle of repeating them over and over again. I have also come to learn that I am classically codependent. I am guessing that this will come as no surprise to any of you.
Although the Prince has been all consuming in my life, I have other alcoholics in my life whose disease I have been able to detach from completely and not allow to affect my well being, at least not as deeply as the Prince has. My husband, AH, is an active raging alcoholic. We still live in the same home, but have had separate bedrooms for many many years now. We are currently in the process of selling our home and once it is sold, we will dissolve our marriage and go our separate ways. This is something I should have done many, many years ago, but I have lacked the courage to do so for a million different reasons.
The love and respect has gone out of our marriage a very long time ago. He has never been there for me and he is certainly not there for his children. He proves this just a little more each day. Yet I still find it sad to end it. I live in fear of ending up alone although realistically, I could not be more alone in my life now if I tried. I guess now that the Prince is at least attempting or pretending to attempt to deal with his recovery and I am letting it go a little more with each day, it is forcing me to face my own demons.
I assume it is classic codependent behavior to stay in a relationship that stopped working years ago. I guess it is classic alcoholic behavior that would allow AH to stay with me, knowing it doesn't work, and knowing how I feel. He just locks himself in his room downstairs and drinks and watches TV and shut himself off from La Petit and I at around 8 pm every night and it is just so sad to me. He expects his son to abstain yet he refuses to do so himself.
So my goal for the summer is to begin to learn to love myself and believe that I am worthy of love from another human being and I can still have a fulfilling life and future even though I am now just about pushing forty. This scares me more than I care to admit.
Begging.... serenity.... now, please.
Although the Prince has been all consuming in my life, I have other alcoholics in my life whose disease I have been able to detach from completely and not allow to affect my well being, at least not as deeply as the Prince has. My husband, AH, is an active raging alcoholic. We still live in the same home, but have had separate bedrooms for many many years now. We are currently in the process of selling our home and once it is sold, we will dissolve our marriage and go our separate ways. This is something I should have done many, many years ago, but I have lacked the courage to do so for a million different reasons.
The love and respect has gone out of our marriage a very long time ago. He has never been there for me and he is certainly not there for his children. He proves this just a little more each day. Yet I still find it sad to end it. I live in fear of ending up alone although realistically, I could not be more alone in my life now if I tried. I guess now that the Prince is at least attempting or pretending to attempt to deal with his recovery and I am letting it go a little more with each day, it is forcing me to face my own demons.
I assume it is classic codependent behavior to stay in a relationship that stopped working years ago. I guess it is classic alcoholic behavior that would allow AH to stay with me, knowing it doesn't work, and knowing how I feel. He just locks himself in his room downstairs and drinks and watches TV and shut himself off from La Petit and I at around 8 pm every night and it is just so sad to me. He expects his son to abstain yet he refuses to do so himself.
So my goal for the summer is to begin to learn to love myself and believe that I am worthy of love from another human being and I can still have a fulfilling life and future even though I am now just about pushing forty. This scares me more than I care to admit.
Begging.... serenity.... now, please.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Sometimes I hear my voice, and its been here, silent all these years...
Is it possible that those of us that are affected most by the addiction and alcoholism of the ones we love the deepest can hit OUR bottom also?? That just as an addict must hit their bottom before they are ready to seek help, to admit their powerlessness, that we, their biggest fans, their biggest supporters must also hit our bottom to realize and accept our powerlessness?
Well, my dear blogger buddies, I believe I have hit that bottom with my beloved Prince. I have been doing a lot of reading and praying. I had a really good day at work yesterday. I felt confident in myself for the first time in a long time. I hold a fairly responsible position and much of the last few years, I have felt like a fraud, going through the motions, floundering. Well something changed in me yesterday and the old Kel was back. I remember how to be a professional. How to handle my authority and how to get my job done in the manner in which I am expected to perform it, and I realized I had not been found out for the fraud I thought I was, so maybe I was not a complete fraud after all.
Last night the Prince was to attend an NA meeting. I had decided I was not going to go with him, and I was not going to call him to remind him. Well, when 8:30 came and went and I did not hear from him, I knew he wasn't going. Against my better judgement, I called his cell phone and he was out. He told me that he has decided that he is going to go to AA instead of NA, that NA wasn't for him, and he was going to go AA with a new friend. Just last week he told me that NA was the best thing for him, and it was what he needed to keep him clean. Same old manipulations and lies. Tell Mommy what she wants to hear. I told him that as far as I am concerned, his sobriety has not been a priority and I am washing my hands of it. I love him, but I can not lose any more sleep over this, I can not go back to being the person I was when he was actively using. I informed him that he should prepare to pay the co-payments for the shrink, he can continue to use my insurance, but I was no longer taking responsibility for his sobriety. Financial or otherwise. I am done. I am letting go. Maybe not in the loving way I had hoped to do it... but I am letting go nonetheless.
Well, my dear blogger buddies, I believe I have hit that bottom with my beloved Prince. I have been doing a lot of reading and praying. I had a really good day at work yesterday. I felt confident in myself for the first time in a long time. I hold a fairly responsible position and much of the last few years, I have felt like a fraud, going through the motions, floundering. Well something changed in me yesterday and the old Kel was back. I remember how to be a professional. How to handle my authority and how to get my job done in the manner in which I am expected to perform it, and I realized I had not been found out for the fraud I thought I was, so maybe I was not a complete fraud after all.
Last night the Prince was to attend an NA meeting. I had decided I was not going to go with him, and I was not going to call him to remind him. Well, when 8:30 came and went and I did not hear from him, I knew he wasn't going. Against my better judgement, I called his cell phone and he was out. He told me that he has decided that he is going to go to AA instead of NA, that NA wasn't for him, and he was going to go AA with a new friend. Just last week he told me that NA was the best thing for him, and it was what he needed to keep him clean. Same old manipulations and lies. Tell Mommy what she wants to hear. I told him that as far as I am concerned, his sobriety has not been a priority and I am washing my hands of it. I love him, but I can not lose any more sleep over this, I can not go back to being the person I was when he was actively using. I informed him that he should prepare to pay the co-payments for the shrink, he can continue to use my insurance, but I was no longer taking responsibility for his sobriety. Financial or otherwise. I am done. I am letting go. Maybe not in the loving way I had hoped to do it... but I am letting go nonetheless.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Don't lean on me man, cause you can't afford the ticket...
I am currently reading Codependent No More, by Melody Beattie, and basically, I could have been the model for the book. I am hoping to apply some of the principles I am learning to my life. I really need to master this Letting Go thing.
So I did not make it to a meeting last night after all. The Prince had an NA meeting and I had promised myself that I would start focusing on MY recovery, my well-being, and let HIM focus on his. So I was planning on going to my meeting and he would go to his. This was not an easy decision for me, because I live in fear that if I do not go with him, he will not go. More controlling, co-dependent behavior on my part. If he does not go, he does not go. I can not control this and I will not try any longer.
As I was getting dressed to got to Al-anon, the phone rang, it was my mother in law. She asked if I was going to meet them in front of the church for the meeting, and I said No. She started hesitating and sort of insisting that I go with him. I finally had to tell her to spit out whatever it was she had to say. She suspected the Prince had been drinking, that she smelled "something" but couldn't be sure. I told her to put him on the phone and I confronted him. He went into the denial routine and was very indignant. He hung up on me.
I asked AH to go to the meeting with him because I just wasn't up to this and he got very angry and started spewing how the Prince would be in jail in a year, and how he should just hit the streets now and how he would make sure he ran away if he went to the meeting. So, OK, no support there, I had to go. He was nasty to me when he saw me and told me he didn't want me o go to the meeting with him. Whatever. Its his recovery anyway, I don't think I belong there anymore. I stayed outside and spoke to my MIL for a little bit and when they came for the smoking break, he was really provocative and antagonistic, typical using behavior for him, he didn't look "right" to me. He started to try to block me from closing my car door, and I suggested that he might want to step away, as I was confident the 10-15 big burly guys standing around watching the exchange weren't going to be to receptive to his attacking me, and he finally backed off.
So I do not know if he used or drank or not. I hate that it has to be so confrontational. After reading dear Tabs post this morning, I at least commended her children's honesty, and I envy her ability to see past the moment, and detach with love. If the Prince is using again, and is caught, it will be his third strike and he will no longer be welcome to live at his grandparents home. He will have to make alternate arrangements for sleeping, showering, eating, and being chauffeured around town. I feel he is testing the waters, he doesn't his grandmother will do it to him. He is mistaken.
So I did not make it to a meeting last night after all. The Prince had an NA meeting and I had promised myself that I would start focusing on MY recovery, my well-being, and let HIM focus on his. So I was planning on going to my meeting and he would go to his. This was not an easy decision for me, because I live in fear that if I do not go with him, he will not go. More controlling, co-dependent behavior on my part. If he does not go, he does not go. I can not control this and I will not try any longer.
As I was getting dressed to got to Al-anon, the phone rang, it was my mother in law. She asked if I was going to meet them in front of the church for the meeting, and I said No. She started hesitating and sort of insisting that I go with him. I finally had to tell her to spit out whatever it was she had to say. She suspected the Prince had been drinking, that she smelled "something" but couldn't be sure. I told her to put him on the phone and I confronted him. He went into the denial routine and was very indignant. He hung up on me.
I asked AH to go to the meeting with him because I just wasn't up to this and he got very angry and started spewing how the Prince would be in jail in a year, and how he should just hit the streets now and how he would make sure he ran away if he went to the meeting. So, OK, no support there, I had to go. He was nasty to me when he saw me and told me he didn't want me o go to the meeting with him. Whatever. Its his recovery anyway, I don't think I belong there anymore. I stayed outside and spoke to my MIL for a little bit and when they came for the smoking break, he was really provocative and antagonistic, typical using behavior for him, he didn't look "right" to me. He started to try to block me from closing my car door, and I suggested that he might want to step away, as I was confident the 10-15 big burly guys standing around watching the exchange weren't going to be to receptive to his attacking me, and he finally backed off.
So I do not know if he used or drank or not. I hate that it has to be so confrontational. After reading dear Tabs post this morning, I at least commended her children's honesty, and I envy her ability to see past the moment, and detach with love. If the Prince is using again, and is caught, it will be his third strike and he will no longer be welcome to live at his grandparents home. He will have to make alternate arrangements for sleeping, showering, eating, and being chauffeured around town. I feel he is testing the waters, he doesn't his grandmother will do it to him. He is mistaken.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
In a world full of people, only some want to fly. Isn't that crazy?
Thank you all for being so supportive of yesterdays sad post. I am just in kind a dark place.
The Prince is scaring me. I am having such a difficult time with letting him go. I feel as though the last year and a half have been wasted. He appears to be clean but he is pushing the limits. We are trying to set some boundaries for him, and he is being very resistant. He is starting to play his grandparents and us against each other. I have been pretty straight forward in my opinion that he does not and should not being hanging out every night, and every free moment.
As usual, his priorities are all F-ed up. He has his grandmother driving him all over the island at his whim, to hang out. She is always obliging. I wouldn't be. He doesn't even offer to contribute towards gas. And at $3.43 a gallon, he really should. He thinks his curfew should be later. He is hanging out with people I do not know or have never heard of. He is right back to where he was a few years ago. He just doesn't give a sh*t what anyone says. I know I am supposed to be taking it one day at a time. But I just can't do it. Seriously. That sick, sinking feeling is back with a vengeance.
I just called him and tried to talk to him. Of course it turns into an argument. I know my way of speaking to him doesn't help matters. I come off as angry and he goes on the defense. He seems to have the maturity level of a 13 year old. He just wants to live in the moment and have a good time. He was supposed to graduate from HS on June 24th, he is not going to as he is missing two classes. He has made no effort to find out what needs to be done in order to complete the requirements, and he seems to really care less. I want to help him, but how much is too much when it comes to helping our addicted children? Isn't there a point where he has to stand up and act like a man and stop taking from everyone and start taking responsibility for himself?
He doesn't worry about his future and he doesn't worry about his sobriety. He is confident that he will not relapse, yet it is more important to him to hang out than it is to get back into therapy or to attend meetings. He thinks it is Bullshit that he is expected to do these things.
Tonight I will go to an Al-anon meeting and try to get something out of it. Because, quite honestly, I feel as though I am going crazy. I can no longer hold the weight of the world on my shoulders. I really really wish things were different. I had this fantasy that when he completed the program things would be good, he would seek recovery and work a program, he would beat this, and I could breathe again.
In other news the Italians girlfriend is actively harassing me again via email. I mean, c'mon, seriously, move on. I know I have. I just don't know what to do about it. She is a sick woman.
The Prince is scaring me. I am having such a difficult time with letting him go. I feel as though the last year and a half have been wasted. He appears to be clean but he is pushing the limits. We are trying to set some boundaries for him, and he is being very resistant. He is starting to play his grandparents and us against each other. I have been pretty straight forward in my opinion that he does not and should not being hanging out every night, and every free moment.
As usual, his priorities are all F-ed up. He has his grandmother driving him all over the island at his whim, to hang out. She is always obliging. I wouldn't be. He doesn't even offer to contribute towards gas. And at $3.43 a gallon, he really should. He thinks his curfew should be later. He is hanging out with people I do not know or have never heard of. He is right back to where he was a few years ago. He just doesn't give a sh*t what anyone says. I know I am supposed to be taking it one day at a time. But I just can't do it. Seriously. That sick, sinking feeling is back with a vengeance.
I just called him and tried to talk to him. Of course it turns into an argument. I know my way of speaking to him doesn't help matters. I come off as angry and he goes on the defense. He seems to have the maturity level of a 13 year old. He just wants to live in the moment and have a good time. He was supposed to graduate from HS on June 24th, he is not going to as he is missing two classes. He has made no effort to find out what needs to be done in order to complete the requirements, and he seems to really care less. I want to help him, but how much is too much when it comes to helping our addicted children? Isn't there a point where he has to stand up and act like a man and stop taking from everyone and start taking responsibility for himself?
He doesn't worry about his future and he doesn't worry about his sobriety. He is confident that he will not relapse, yet it is more important to him to hang out than it is to get back into therapy or to attend meetings. He thinks it is Bullshit that he is expected to do these things.
Tonight I will go to an Al-anon meeting and try to get something out of it. Because, quite honestly, I feel as though I am going crazy. I can no longer hold the weight of the world on my shoulders. I really really wish things were different. I had this fantasy that when he completed the program things would be good, he would seek recovery and work a program, he would beat this, and I could breathe again.
In other news the Italians girlfriend is actively harassing me again via email. I mean, c'mon, seriously, move on. I know I have. I just don't know what to do about it. She is a sick woman.
And now some gratitude...
- Cool new Bermuda- like dress shorts from Old Navvy that I bought last night, today I am stylin!!
- Feeling the love from my blogger buddies
- I was able to teach my boss a little something about the business this morning that she didn't know
- The ability to not engage as this psycho chick continues to harass me
- A nice healthy salad for lunch today
- Hope for a much brighter future, and the realization that what will, be will be...
Love on you all!!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Where'd you go? I miss you so...
I have spent the past few says feeling haunted. The ghosts of my past and present, the good ones, the bad ones and the ugly ones. I spent Friday night with one of my younger nieces. She is in her early twenties. She had a hard life, she is the product of two parents who never should have been together or married. They were abusive to each other, alcohol, and I assume drugs. They ultimately divorced and neither of them seemed to realize that parenting their two young girls should be their priority, these girls have ultimately been on their own since their early teens. The older daughter ended up pregnant at 15, a beautiful bright young thing, who now has two children from two different fathers, living with an abusive, jealous, cheater. She does not have the means at this time to get herself out of this relationship. It just brought back to me the days of my youth, where alcohol was such an omnipresent force in my life, and the lives of all those related to me.
Saturday evening I took La Petit and his friend to TGIFs for dinner. While we waited for a table I found myself surrounded by young families. Young, smiling couples with toddlers. It made me yearn for a time in my life when my children were small and I was still filled with hope for a fulfilled life. No concept of what future awaited me. A life filled of sickness, drug and alcohol abuse all around me, unhappiness, dysfunction and adultery.
We had the puppy for the weekend and after dinner, AH and I sat out on the deck while the puppy ran around playing. Our conversation basically consisted of our, or more specifically my trepidation of how the Prince is going to respond to his new freedom since his "release" from his program. He is officially free, and all things considered, the weekend seemed to go OK, so far he seems to have remained clean and sober. He is steering clear of his old friends so far. He is seeing a new girl that I have not met yet. I am not thrilled with the way he is choosing to spend his time. He is back to "hanging out", with no particular destination. My humble opinion is that he should not be sitting around in parks all night with his friends, making out or whatever. I think this is setting him up for a relapse. But I am trying hard to keep this opinion to myself.
My mother called me yesterday and basically expressed her fear that my Dad seemed to be dying and that perhaps I should come for dinner to see him, and he was requesting my brother be there also. My father is a very sick man, and yes, statistically, he is not long for this world, but he had chemo last week and he is always very week and very ill after a treatment for a few days. Of course, in the event that I was wrong, I obliged the request. It is very sad to see my Dad. He has really withered away to nothing, and he is not so with it. He barely contributes to the conversations, and he loses his patience quickly.
AH and the Prince were both working, so it was just La Petit and I. My brother arrived shortly after us and he also came alone. It was strangely reminiscent of my younger years. It was bittersweet to sit outside just the four of us, a shadow of a family past. There is no running from time and this vibrant young family of years ago, has seen the painful effects of what the years can do to you. My father, sickness has left him but a fragment of the father of my youth, a powerful, strong man, the family patriarch, his voice alive with laughter. My brother, his long curly locks now very thin and mostly gray, diabetes has taken 3 of his toes and will ultimately probably take his leg, years of drug and alcohol abuse have dimmed the brightness of his eyes, and leathered his skin. My mother, just an older, tireder version of who she used to be. Self medicating the pain of watching the man she loves slowly deteriorate and die over the last 16 years, as she slowly drinks herself to death. And myself, sad to recall the easier, lighter days of my youth. Disappointed in what became of the grown up me and the loneliness I feel, and how much I miss that vibrant young family.
Saturday evening I took La Petit and his friend to TGIFs for dinner. While we waited for a table I found myself surrounded by young families. Young, smiling couples with toddlers. It made me yearn for a time in my life when my children were small and I was still filled with hope for a fulfilled life. No concept of what future awaited me. A life filled of sickness, drug and alcohol abuse all around me, unhappiness, dysfunction and adultery.
We had the puppy for the weekend and after dinner, AH and I sat out on the deck while the puppy ran around playing. Our conversation basically consisted of our, or more specifically my trepidation of how the Prince is going to respond to his new freedom since his "release" from his program. He is officially free, and all things considered, the weekend seemed to go OK, so far he seems to have remained clean and sober. He is steering clear of his old friends so far. He is seeing a new girl that I have not met yet. I am not thrilled with the way he is choosing to spend his time. He is back to "hanging out", with no particular destination. My humble opinion is that he should not be sitting around in parks all night with his friends, making out or whatever. I think this is setting him up for a relapse. But I am trying hard to keep this opinion to myself.
My mother called me yesterday and basically expressed her fear that my Dad seemed to be dying and that perhaps I should come for dinner to see him, and he was requesting my brother be there also. My father is a very sick man, and yes, statistically, he is not long for this world, but he had chemo last week and he is always very week and very ill after a treatment for a few days. Of course, in the event that I was wrong, I obliged the request. It is very sad to see my Dad. He has really withered away to nothing, and he is not so with it. He barely contributes to the conversations, and he loses his patience quickly.
AH and the Prince were both working, so it was just La Petit and I. My brother arrived shortly after us and he also came alone. It was strangely reminiscent of my younger years. It was bittersweet to sit outside just the four of us, a shadow of a family past. There is no running from time and this vibrant young family of years ago, has seen the painful effects of what the years can do to you. My father, sickness has left him but a fragment of the father of my youth, a powerful, strong man, the family patriarch, his voice alive with laughter. My brother, his long curly locks now very thin and mostly gray, diabetes has taken 3 of his toes and will ultimately probably take his leg, years of drug and alcohol abuse have dimmed the brightness of his eyes, and leathered his skin. My mother, just an older, tireder version of who she used to be. Self medicating the pain of watching the man she loves slowly deteriorate and die over the last 16 years, as she slowly drinks herself to death. And myself, sad to recall the easier, lighter days of my youth. Disappointed in what became of the grown up me and the loneliness I feel, and how much I miss that vibrant young family.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Waking up to find another day...
It seems the Prince and I are, (or really more the Prince) are about to enter a new, and very exciting and frightening stage in our lives. Tomorrow, he is exiting his program. He leaves there on a fairly positive note. Although he was unable to achieve many of the goals the program sets for the kids, he did manage to stay in there, and follow the rules. His classes are over tomorrow and he will turn 18 next Saturday. He has gone as far as he can go there and it is time he enters the real world.
When we started this phase of his recovery more than 15 months ago, I was scared, broken and hopeless. With each passing day of his recovery I looked forward to a time that my Prince would be well again. Not fully understanding this disease and the true depths of how immersed my eldest son was entrenched in it. Or perhaps I did fully understand the disease, and maybe needed to kid myself to get through those long painful first weeks.
As each week of his sobriety passed I gained strength and began to feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time. While I do not know what it feels like to be addicted to drugs and alcohol, I can not begin to explain to you how deeply, profoundly painful it is to be the mother of a child who is. When he first began his program, he was tasked with writing an essay describing his tenure with drug and alcohol use and abuse. He "accidentally" left it where I could find and of course I read it. It was a disturbing piece of literature, beginning with his abuse of the Ritalin he took to treat his attention deficit. Cigarette smoking, followed by marijuana, alcohol, cocaine, vicodin, inhalants, robotripping, triple cs, and crack cocaine (He also relapsed on heroin once). His spiral was fast and furious.
I am not a buzz kill or a hypocrite. I remember how much fun it was on a Friday night to drink with your friends, and how it felt to loose your inhibitions and laugh and have a good time. I never much cared for pot. I smoked it a bit in High School, but honestly it was peer pressure that sucked me in. By the time I was a senior I had already been over the pot smoking phase. I tried cocaine for the first time later that year, I liked it, but not enough to make a habit of. I dabbled with it socially for the next year or two, but again, I didn't like the way it made me feel and the sensation of wanting more when I did it. I started dating a guy who abused it. He used to ask me to drive him to some pretty shady neighborhoods to procure it, and I didn't like that scene one bit. More than one time he was ripped off, sold baby powder or baking soda instead of the real thing and our lives starting revolving around him buying coke. This was just not what I signed up for and I broke up with him. Somehow I am digressing here, as I tend to do when I am feeling too much stress. I guess what I am trying to say is that I was young and wild once too, but somehow, there but for the grace of G*d, I was not an addict.
During those early weeks of his recovery, I barely ate or slept. He would go to his program, come home, curl up in his bed and sleep for hours each day. His depression was palpable. Although he never showed any suicidal tendencies, I lived in fear each day of discovering him in that room dead. Then the self-mutilation started, intensified, and passed. Yet, slowly, he was coming back to us. He was spending more time with us. He was smiling and laughing and his eyes! Those beautiful eyes were clear again. My little Prince Charming was back again. And I cherished every moment as though it were the last, because I knew in my heart, that when it comes to addiction, any moment could be the last.
One of the biggest difficulties I faced was the pulling of my two sons. I am somewhat proud to say that I have raised two mommas boys. Or maybe this was my downfall. Neither of them have ever been close to their father, they both come to me for everything. They both share everything with me. They both command and demand my attention. The Prince was so fragile then, that he took up so much of my time. Looking back now, his behavior was manipulative and unacceptable. My behavior was overbearing and enabling. He used his sobriety as a weapon against me. Making statements such as if I didn't let him do this or that, he would get high. Look, if he wants to get high, he is going to get high. My actions or reactions do not cause it or control it, I know this now. But the fear. That, and my willingness to do anything to keep him sober.
I have come to count on his program as his lifeline. He hates it there, does nothing but bitch about the counselors, the program, the place itself, but he goes. But he followed the rules, he has maintained some short term sobriety, with a few slips, but he keeps getting back up. It worked for us.
We are now trying to figure out his aftercare plans. He has agreed to return to seeing his old shrink for his therapy. He will attend NA meetings to help maintain sobriety, he will work full time and finish his last two classes needed for graduation over the summer. He will reestablish a social life. Herein lies my concerns.
He talks the talk, but he doesn't walk the walk. He has been in enough programs to know importance of People Places and Things. I have gone to enough NA meetings with him to see there are plenty of younger guys working the program, staying clean. There are new kids he is meeting at his new job. People he has met without any association to his drug use. But he stills insists on maintaining a friendship with a kid he used to use with. He says it will not effect his sobriety, and he can handle it. Mind you, this man-boy has not been out of the house on his own for over a year, save the short few days he was on modified curfew and during those few brief hours, he managed to steal dust off to huff, and smoked pot. A week later he relapsed on cocaine. I just do not feel secure in his ability to stay sober, or his desire to really. I know this is my problem. I know I need to trust him and pray for strength and hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Really, I know these things. I just cant go through it all again. It just hurts too damn much to watch him unravel and self destruct again.
Ok, so fifteen months into his recovery and I am still scared and maybe a little less broken, but my hope is quickly fading. We went together to a meeting last night. Before it started we spoke a bit about the rooms and what it means and he got a little indignant as he usually does, and I asked him if he plans on getting a sponsor and he said No. He said he had people to talk, I tried to explain that sponsorship was more than that. I was grateful at the meeting more than one person shared on the importance of having a sponsor and working the steps. But I could see in his eyes that he really doesn't think he is like "these" people. He refused to share, he refused to participate in the reading, he declined my offer to buy him some literature to maybe read on his own. He said he doesn't "do" the reading out loud thing. I asked him why exactly he was going to the meetings, if he was going simply to appease me then he shouldn't bother, that my time would be better spent at meetings of my own, working at healing myself.
We both have our crosses to bear. I hate this F-ing disease.
When we started this phase of his recovery more than 15 months ago, I was scared, broken and hopeless. With each passing day of his recovery I looked forward to a time that my Prince would be well again. Not fully understanding this disease and the true depths of how immersed my eldest son was entrenched in it. Or perhaps I did fully understand the disease, and maybe needed to kid myself to get through those long painful first weeks.
As each week of his sobriety passed I gained strength and began to feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time. While I do not know what it feels like to be addicted to drugs and alcohol, I can not begin to explain to you how deeply, profoundly painful it is to be the mother of a child who is. When he first began his program, he was tasked with writing an essay describing his tenure with drug and alcohol use and abuse. He "accidentally" left it where I could find and of course I read it. It was a disturbing piece of literature, beginning with his abuse of the Ritalin he took to treat his attention deficit. Cigarette smoking, followed by marijuana, alcohol, cocaine, vicodin, inhalants, robotripping, triple cs, and crack cocaine (He also relapsed on heroin once). His spiral was fast and furious.
I am not a buzz kill or a hypocrite. I remember how much fun it was on a Friday night to drink with your friends, and how it felt to loose your inhibitions and laugh and have a good time. I never much cared for pot. I smoked it a bit in High School, but honestly it was peer pressure that sucked me in. By the time I was a senior I had already been over the pot smoking phase. I tried cocaine for the first time later that year, I liked it, but not enough to make a habit of. I dabbled with it socially for the next year or two, but again, I didn't like the way it made me feel and the sensation of wanting more when I did it. I started dating a guy who abused it. He used to ask me to drive him to some pretty shady neighborhoods to procure it, and I didn't like that scene one bit. More than one time he was ripped off, sold baby powder or baking soda instead of the real thing and our lives starting revolving around him buying coke. This was just not what I signed up for and I broke up with him. Somehow I am digressing here, as I tend to do when I am feeling too much stress. I guess what I am trying to say is that I was young and wild once too, but somehow, there but for the grace of G*d, I was not an addict.
During those early weeks of his recovery, I barely ate or slept. He would go to his program, come home, curl up in his bed and sleep for hours each day. His depression was palpable. Although he never showed any suicidal tendencies, I lived in fear each day of discovering him in that room dead. Then the self-mutilation started, intensified, and passed. Yet, slowly, he was coming back to us. He was spending more time with us. He was smiling and laughing and his eyes! Those beautiful eyes were clear again. My little Prince Charming was back again. And I cherished every moment as though it were the last, because I knew in my heart, that when it comes to addiction, any moment could be the last.
One of the biggest difficulties I faced was the pulling of my two sons. I am somewhat proud to say that I have raised two mommas boys. Or maybe this was my downfall. Neither of them have ever been close to their father, they both come to me for everything. They both share everything with me. They both command and demand my attention. The Prince was so fragile then, that he took up so much of my time. Looking back now, his behavior was manipulative and unacceptable. My behavior was overbearing and enabling. He used his sobriety as a weapon against me. Making statements such as if I didn't let him do this or that, he would get high. Look, if he wants to get high, he is going to get high. My actions or reactions do not cause it or control it, I know this now. But the fear. That, and my willingness to do anything to keep him sober.
I have come to count on his program as his lifeline. He hates it there, does nothing but bitch about the counselors, the program, the place itself, but he goes. But he followed the rules, he has maintained some short term sobriety, with a few slips, but he keeps getting back up. It worked for us.
We are now trying to figure out his aftercare plans. He has agreed to return to seeing his old shrink for his therapy. He will attend NA meetings to help maintain sobriety, he will work full time and finish his last two classes needed for graduation over the summer. He will reestablish a social life. Herein lies my concerns.
He talks the talk, but he doesn't walk the walk. He has been in enough programs to know importance of People Places and Things. I have gone to enough NA meetings with him to see there are plenty of younger guys working the program, staying clean. There are new kids he is meeting at his new job. People he has met without any association to his drug use. But he stills insists on maintaining a friendship with a kid he used to use with. He says it will not effect his sobriety, and he can handle it. Mind you, this man-boy has not been out of the house on his own for over a year, save the short few days he was on modified curfew and during those few brief hours, he managed to steal dust off to huff, and smoked pot. A week later he relapsed on cocaine. I just do not feel secure in his ability to stay sober, or his desire to really. I know this is my problem. I know I need to trust him and pray for strength and hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Really, I know these things. I just cant go through it all again. It just hurts too damn much to watch him unravel and self destruct again.
Ok, so fifteen months into his recovery and I am still scared and maybe a little less broken, but my hope is quickly fading. We went together to a meeting last night. Before it started we spoke a bit about the rooms and what it means and he got a little indignant as he usually does, and I asked him if he plans on getting a sponsor and he said No. He said he had people to talk, I tried to explain that sponsorship was more than that. I was grateful at the meeting more than one person shared on the importance of having a sponsor and working the steps. But I could see in his eyes that he really doesn't think he is like "these" people. He refused to share, he refused to participate in the reading, he declined my offer to buy him some literature to maybe read on his own. He said he doesn't "do" the reading out loud thing. I asked him why exactly he was going to the meetings, if he was going simply to appease me then he shouldn't bother, that my time would be better spent at meetings of my own, working at healing myself.
We both have our crosses to bear. I hate this F-ing disease.
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