Mother's Heartbreak

A Story of Addiction & Loss

Month: October 2015

Drugs, Jobs and Roller Coaster Rides

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Matt,  Holy shit, holy shit, I am doing the happy dance.  Hugging you and jumping for joy.  I get a grip and look at your face.  Matt, what’s wrong, this is the best news ever.  You will be doing the work you love, making real money and having a sense of pride.  I’m still not getting it.  You look like you just received the worst news instead of this great news.  You grab my shoulders holding me still.  Your eyes bore into mine.  Mom, I have to take a drug test…Ok, so take it.  Oh God Matt, I still lived in my little world of denial.  I figured that since I was handling your pills and being very stingy with  how many you got that our problem was under control.  I foolishly thought I’d fixed you again.  I had no clue as to the many sources you had and believed that because you weren’t bugging me for them that you realized you really didn’t need them.  Stupid, stupid me.

Days go by and your still evasive when I ask you about the job.  Mom, I’m waiting.  Waiting for what.  It was then that it struck me.  You were lying again.  I’d overheard you on the phone asking about passing a piss test.  Yes Matt, I did pretend to not notice you on the phone but my ears were on high alert as I tried to learn as much about who you were hanging with while pretending to be looking for my phone or whatever would pop into my mind when I saw you sneaking around talking in whispers.  Passing a piss test.  Ugh, so gross your slang.  Couldn’t you just say drug or pee test, nope had to use words that conjured up images in my mind that I’d rather not think about.  I guess my education regarding the slang used by addicts was in full swing.  Thank you Google.  I was educating myself and was amazed at the stuff posted on the internet.  I guess if you could learn how to build a bomb you could certainly find out how to pass a piss test.

So you could pick up a detox kit from GNC.  Well, I’ll be damn.  I foolishly thought they were a health food store.  The jokes on me.  Addicts are beyond smart.  I saw this sitting on your dresser when I was snooping or working out in your space.  However you want to look at it you left it out and I found it.  I, your naive mom just couldn’t believe what you were going to do.  Take a chance on this stupid kit instead of not using.  So it’s the big day.  You leave the house with this big grin, like you were the cat that swallowed the canary.  I decided to play along.  Good luck.  you got this, giving you a hug and letting you go.  Oh God,  wouldn’t it be easier to just stop then to play all these games.

I watch your car leave the neighborhood before I begin my daily search.  Hoping to find your source of these demon pills.  You were fox sly and tore the labels so I had no idea where your pill pushers were located.   You are back way too quick and way too happy.   Hey, how did it go.  No worries Mom.  I’ll start as soon as my results are back.  A week passes, nothing.  No call, nothing.  I’m in a panic and you don’t care.  Matt, call. You should be starting by now.  Have you heard anything.  I come home from work everyday and find you way too comfortable sitting in front of the TV.  Matt,  WTH.  What is going on.  Mom, get off my back.  I grab your phone and look up the number.  I call.  You failed and you knew.  I am ready to explode.  Matt, why. I can’t even talk as I feel my body fall apart.  The aftershock of your addiction once again kicking me in my gut.  My high hopes for you shot out of the sky and all you can say is get off your back.  I’ve always compared being your mom to riding a very fast, very high roller coaster.  The ride left me breathless, heart pounding and feeling very unsettled.  Never knowing from one day to the next where we were heading and how we would land.  Once again, my hopes for a normal life shattered while you look at me with disgust.

Matt,  this was the start of our ride.  You finally got a job as a service writer.  A job using your brain and not your back.  Only by the grace of God passing the infamous piss test.   You smelled a lot like vinegar for days but by now I didn’t care if you had to eat dog crap.  Anything that worked to get you a job.  I remember making your lunch, yeah I know, just like when you were in school.  That’s how it felt.  My boy getting back into the world.  Having a purpose instead of planting yourself on the couch for the day.  I was as happy as I could be.  Pretending that we were finally on the road to normal.  I allowed myself to ignore the slowness in your speech.  You glazed eyes.  Your excuse that you were just getting used to working again.  Matt, are you stoned.  Really Mom.  You would look at me with such hate.  I chose to stay in my little world slapping away those doubts that surfaced.  Stop, I would tell my brain.  He’s just tired.  He’s been sleeping in and hanging out and now he has a time clock.  Eight hour days.  Cut him a break my heart would cry.  My brain would send out warnings.  Matt, Mom.  Stop.  I’m tired.  My back hurts.  I can’t sleep. I’m being watched.  Matt. Please stop.  Mom, get off my back.  Matt, we are going out for my birthday.  I’ve left dinner in the oven.  We won’t be long.  Mom, I got fired.

Adjusting To The New Normal

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Matt,  I must say having you living under the same roof again just killed the spontaneity in my life.  Before you I could walk around bra less in sweats and not worry about anyone taking a peak.  I could turn up the music and sing and dance with only the dogs as my audience.  I was so used to my privacy on my days off that it took a while for me to realize another grown man was in the house.  This man wasn’t my husband, he was my unemployed son who also happened to have a problem with pills.  I remember the morning I rolled out of bed and grabbed a tank top, braless of course,  just wanted to grab a cup of coffee before I got dressed.  Never thinking that you would be standing right in the middle of the kitchen as I half awake smacked right into you.  Crap, Mom, really.  The look on your face was priceless.  Hey if you don’t like it get a job.  Great, my adult son just got a look at the boobs.  Boy this was going to be such fun…Not.

Talk about you getting a job became our daily conversation.  I’d start with hey Matt, what ya going to do today.  Hey Mom,  what do you want me to do today.  Oh wait, it’s the same thing you wanted me to do yesterday, get a job.  How about you get off my back.  How about you let me handle it.  So now instead of my mornings being peaceful and quiet they were becoming a battle ground between you and me.  Hey Matt, we had a deal.  You come live here, you find work.  Work isn’t sitting on your butt watching bullshit TV all day.  Drinking coffee and living in lala land.  Remember the deal Matt.  I do.  I’m not going to watch you sit around and waste your life.  Get moving.  Out.  Go to Unemployment and look for jobs.  Oh boy, the looks I got from you.  Memories of your teen years came flooding back.  Now here we were at it again except now you were years older but no more mature.  I truly believe that your maturity level was stunted when you first started using.  Now the wingmen were becoming warriors.

Ok, so now on my days off I was on the hunt.  Finding you a job became my new obsession.  I became a mom on a mission. I would scour the want ads with my black sharpie in hand circling anything I though you might qualify for.   Every weekend Ray would find me hunched over the want ads.  Hey, you looking for a new job.  Nah,  I’m looking for Matt.  Don’t you think he should be doing that himself.  Well, hell yeah, but he’s just a little too comfortable living in luxury and collecting a check in the mail.

I was relentless.  The more I pushed, the more you fought.  Mom, lay off.  I just got here and you’re constantly on my back.  Matt, you got here months ago and nothing has changed.   I come home from a twelve hour shift and here you are all day.  Must be nice to be retired at thirty.  My peaceful home was becoming a battle ground.  You were acting like you owned the place.  Like you didn’t have to be responsible for anything.   Holy shit, then it hit me like a slap.  This was you. The product of my enabling all those years.  I took care of everything for you.  Never stepped back and let you fall.  My God, I never let you feel consequences for your behavior.  I fixed everything.  Now we were both paying the price.  Ok Matt, now I get it.  I’m as responsible for your behavior as you are.  Well my little buddy, things are going to change.  Rules will be followed.  You looked at me like I had two heads, you started to snicker and I could feel the crazy mom coming alive.  Ugly started pouring out of my mouth.  All the years of cleaning up your crap finally surfacing as we stood nose to nose in the kitchen.  Even the dogs were on high alert.  Fur standing straight, ready to pounce on you to protect me.   We screamed pointing fingers at each other, throwing blame in the air.  Oh God, this really isn’t who we are.  Matt, STOP.  I will not live like this.  My heart racing, that familiar feeling of wanting to puke in my throat.  You slam out the door and I sit in silence, once again ashamed of who we are becoming.  Your addiction was changing how I lived and who I was.  Having it in my face 24/7 was becoming unbearable.  Something had to change before we killed each other.   I sit and once again formulate a plan in my mind.  I can’t help myself.  I am a fixer.

You return, we both apologize.  This has become our new habit.  Tear each other up, take a breather, apologize.  Matt, this has to stop.  You need to stop taking the pills.  I want all your bottles.  I will give them to you but not to the point to make you high.  You look at me like I’ve lost my mind.  Meetings Matt.  Here is the list of NA meetings.  You must go and start working the program.  Your staring at me, piercing my soul with the hate in your beautiful eyes.  Matt, you have a job interview tomorrow.  I made some calls.  Matt, this is how our life must be.  You don’t say a word.  Killing me with those eyes.  You go to your room in silence.  I follow.  You are pissed, damn Mom, can’t I have my privacy.  Nope, you can’t.  I want to watch you get your pills.  You have no idea how many times I’ve searched your living area.  You have no idea that I’ve been on a ladder pushing up ceiling tiles in my finished basement that has now become your home.   You have no idea how I’ve gone through you things, picked up your mattress in my search.  You are sly.  You hide those demons like they are gold.   I fool myself into thinking if I have control you will be normal.  That life will return to the way it should be.  Stupid me thinking I could outsmart the demons.

I watch, you try to hide from me.  Blocking my view with your back.  Matt give me the damn pills.  I see you scrambling.  I grab your arm and we struggle.  The bottles fall to the floor and I am on them.  I grab them and stuff them in my bra.  Go ahead tough guy, I dare you.  I leave you cussing me out with the  grin of the Cheshire cat spreading across my face.  HaHa.  Got them.  A moms got to do what a moms got to do.

Tomorrow comes and I am on you.  Get up, clean up, eat and out the door you go.  You are still looking at me with daggers but I am on cloud nine.  My addict has a job interview and I have his pills.  You leave and I turn into the Mom police.  Flashlight in hand I start my search.  Every nook and cranny is inspected.  Once again I depend on the dogs to alert me to your return.  I am crazy, relentless.  Think like an addict I tell myself.  Where would you hide your stash. Think, think.  Every drawer has been  pulled completely out checking the underside for your stash.  Damn,  I know you are slick.  I know you have some reserve or you would have fought harder.  Your hunting boots.  Stinky, sweaty, muddy hunting boots.  I reach in, turning my head against the smell of years of use.   Ah ha.  All the way in the toes I feel a bag.  Yes, my brain is screaming. Yes. I pull hard and a bag of loose pills pops into my hand.  Holy shit.  Percocet, Methadone, Xanax and Vicodin all  staring me in the face.  I am stunned.  You are sick, very sick.  I hear the door, the dogs quietly let you in.  Shit, shit, shit.  I grab the bag and start to dance.  Mom, WTH are you doing down here.  This is my space.  Hey Matt, this is my house.  I work out here and just finished.  My heart is pounding.  You are staring me dead in the eye.   We are like two wild animals sizing each other up.  Do we pounce or pass.  I pray things are as you left them.  I pray you won’t know.  The dogs start barking.  Thank God.  Gotta walk these guys.  You want to come.  You look at me still unsure, hey Mom.  I got the job….

Bye Bye Beach House My Son’s Coming Home

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Matt, I remember going to the U Haul dealer and ordering the truck.  I just couldn’t believe this was truly happening.  The guy kept asking what I was moving and every time I tried to tell him I would start to cry.   He probably thought I was getting divorced, not losing my beach house and bringing my addict son home.   I couldn’t even believe it myself.  I made plans to come back on Saturday to start the saddest ride of my life.   My next stop was to rent a storage unit.  Once again I couldn’t let myself even think about why this was happening.   The lady behind the counter was full of smiles when I walked it.  She started a conversation by asking what I was storing.  I’d become such a great liar always covering up your addiction I just whipped out my answer without blinking an eye.  Oh, my son lost his job.  It’s tough finding employment at the beach so he’s moving home until he finds something here.  He’s a great mechanic, I’m sure he’ll find a job soon and we’ll be back moving stuff out.  Great, end of story.  I signed the lease and took the contract, once again disbelieving this was truly happening.

Back home I was free to let my emotions loose.  I cleaned out closets and moved furniture to make room for you.  I talked to myself through my tears.  It will be ok, my brain kept repeating over and over again.  He will be here and you can watch him.  You will have more control over how he lives.  You will set boundaries and make rules.  These is the best solution for now.  Somehow I kept trying to convince myself that this arrangement wouldn’t kill me or get me arrested for killing you.

Talk about killing.  Just how great was this arrangement going to be on a new marriage.  Ray and I were just finding our rhythm and now here comes my unemployed, addicted, adult son.  Oh boy,  where’s the reality TV when you need it.  Well this would be the true test of that vow for better or worse, cause I could just feel in my gut that we were signing up for a whole lot of worse.

Driving down I kept asking Ray if he was really ok with this.  Hey, it’s too late now.  You put this in motion we can’t stop now.   Two friends volunteered to help.  Of course, I once again told the poor Matt story.  Can’t find a job at the beach, yada, yada and shot Ray a warning look to keep his mouth shut.  He was now in training on how to hide the truth about your addict.  This was a secret club.  A need to know basis only.  After all, Ray was now part of the dirty little secret club so he better know how to play.

We all arrived at the same time.  I was panicked.  I wanted to get there first and scope out the place and you.   No such luck.   I knocked and waited.  Dog barking but nothing else.  Oh God, please just today can you spare me this crap.  I use my key and am greeted by balls of black fur that caught a ride on the breeze from the door.  I will kill you.  I can feel the crazy mom starting to surface.  There you are on the couch looking like you’ve got no cares in the world.  I want to scream.  At least you have the decency to get up and realize I am not alone.  You flash that smile but I’m unaffected, I am going to kill you.   Ray can see what is going on and diverts our friends into another room to discuss where to start.  Matt,  thanks so much for doing what I asked.  I scan the room and see boxes half full, the kitchen full of dirty dishes.  I grab your arm and drag you into the kitchen.  I fill the sink and tell you to start washing.  My head is ready to explode.   Go ahead, say one word and I don’t care who sees it, I am so done with your BS.  You look at me and know we are on that slippery slope.  I can see you behind the mask of your demons.  I want to reach in and grab you but know the demons have control.

We are down to three.  All of us struggle to move the pieces into the truck.  You are oblivious to everything except the menial tasks I have demanded you do.   As each room is emptied another piece of me is broken.  I try to hide my tears, taking breaks outside to smell the sea air.  My mind is flooded with memories of happy times before  your demons came.  I question every decision, everything I did to save my piece of heaven.  Everything sold, all lost to your addiction.  Now the final straw.  Your disease has robbed you of love, your business, your health, now it’s robbed me of my dream.

I am openly sobbing as we close up the truck.  The dam broken and years of pent up anguish flood my being. You sit in the truck staring ahead.  I can’t look at or talk to you.  You have robbed me of the son I used to know.  The Matt you used to be.  My wing man, my partner in crime.  I walk inside and hold myself as I say goodbye to my paradise.  I close my eyes and can see the memories that are burned into my brain.  Parties, crabs and beer.  Coming home with a fresh catch.  You gutting the fish and throwing pieces at me as I ran screaming.  Both of us laughing.   I want you back.  Ray comes to me as I close the door for the last time.   It will be ok,  we will get through this.

We pull away and I turn to take one last look.  You are staring at me. You are back.  A tear is running down your face.  You reach for me and I grab your hand.   We lock eyes.  It will be ok,  you are coming home.  You will be safe.  I will help you get you back.  We will be wingmen, partners in crime, fighting the demons together.  That’s what families do.  Stick together.  We are both quiet on the ride home, no need to talk.  We’ve had years of reading each others eyes.   You fall asleep and memories of you being young flood my mind.  Sleeping in the backseat with your head on the window.  Nothing has changed.  You are now a man, but always my boy.

I look at Ray.  He grabs my hand.  You ok.  Yeah, I will be.  Just gotta get him help.  We ride home in silence.  Ok God,  I need a real wingman.  Someone with super human powers.  You up for this.   I’m hanging with my son.  I will not give up.  I remember looking at the sky.  The sun broke out from behind a dark cloud.  Ok God, I’m taking that as a yes.  I felt a peace fill my heart.  I looked back at my sleeping adult child.  Yes everything would be ok…….

Shattered Dreams, Broken Hearts, Altered Lives

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Matt,  It felt like we sat there forever.  My body too numb to move.  I was still in shock at how ugly we became, I could hear the demons laughing as they tore us apart.   I got up but still couldn’t look at you.  I needed to feel the sea air.  I walked out the door not looking back.  I could only imagine how bad I looked.  I could feel the swelling left behind by my flood of tears.  I was back in survival mode, not interested in talking just needing the rhythmic sound of the waves to calm my battered soul.  I sat on the damp sand and relived every moment of your addiction.  The roller coaster of emotions I lived with for years.  I felt physically beat up and emotionally drained.  I knew we could not go on like this.  In the past I always had a plan B but now my mind was numb.  No plan forming in my brain.  Just a feeling of hopelessness washing over me like the waves I loved watching.  I sat until the rain started and my belly hurt from lack of food.  I looked around at the vastness of the ocean and knew Jesus was there.  I prayed for strength and asked for forgiveness.  The ugly person screaming at her son was not me, she was a byproduct of his disease.  The saying, hate the disease, love the addict kept bouncing around my brain.  God, how I hated this disease.  I would rather you had cancer than be an addict.  Cancer got treatment and sympathy.  Addiction got hate and blame and isolation.

I found you sitting on the deck, cigarette in hand.  Ok, Matt.  We have no choice.  I can’t keep living like this.  I can’t count on you, it’s not your fault.  Your disease is worse than I knew.  You can’t stay here alone.  I am calling a realtor.  I’m going to sell and try to salvage what I put into this house.  You look at me like you’ve been slapped.  Mom, I love it here.  I don’t want to leave.  Matt, I love it here too but we had a deal and I finally get that your not capable of handling your part.   We go back and forth as my heart slowly continues to break.  I want to blame you. I want to point my finger in your face and say, This Is Your Fault.  You and you’re damn addiction.  How can you keep falling back into it’s trap.  How much do you have to lose before you stop…I bite my tongue thinking of the boat that some other family was now enjoying, the jet skis, my jewelry, all the possessions lost to pay for your disease.  God, how I wanted to grab you and shake the life out of you.

I spent the next hours going through what I was taking and what could stay.  I felt like a robot, pulling pictures off walls, packing boxes, but not allowing myself to feel.  If I felt I knew I would break.  I needed to stay focused and not allow my heart to reach my brain.  You sat and looked at me with the eyes of hate.  Mom, how can you do this to me.  You’re overreacting.  Your out of control.  Really, how can I do this to you…I could feel the crazy, ugly mom coming from my soul.  Matt, don’t say another word or I will walk out and never return.  You have killed me but I’m still here.  My soul has been battered, my heart broken over and over again.  Yet, I’m still here.  If I were you I’d just shut up and start packing..It’s the least you can do.  I choked back sobs as I remembered a different time of unpacking, of hanging pictures of moving furniture and the joy of having a place by the sea.  Me, you and Natt, laughing and setting up a home with such hope and joy.  Excited for your new life and knowing that my piece heaven would be looked after with love.  Planting the garden, laying the walking path, putting up the fence while the dogs ran around with smiles coming from the beach.  Loving life as it was supposed to be.  Now this ugly reality of a disease I could not fix and you could not control was slowly destroying every bit of happiness in life.

The realtor arrived, papers were signed, the For Sale sign in place and all I could do was cry.   Neighbors coming shocked as they realize that we are leaving.  I try to make up another lie, I’ve become such a great liar.  Yes, Matt has a great opportunity up north.  No, I won’t be able to get here enough.  Oh dear God, leave me alone.  My son is an addict, I lost the house, happy now…My mind is getting ugly I want to scream, to punch and throw a tantrum at life.  Instead I walk to the sea.  I sit and release the sobs.  I am alone and so broken.  Dear God, do you not listen when I pray.  Where are you, why are you allowing this to happen.  I look at the vastness of the sea you created and cry until there are no more tears.

My car is packed with boxes full of broken dreams.  The house is as clean as I can get it for now.  You are standing in the doorway.  I can not look at you.  I can’t let you see my face. I can no longer control my emotions.  I’ve left you enough food for the week knowing that your unemployment check will most likely be used for smokes and the white demons.   Mom,  you don’t need to do this, this is crazy.  No Matt, what is crazy is that I’m killing myself for nothing.  I trusted you that’s crazy, trusting an addict.  Yup Matt, I’m not killing myself pulling extra shifts while you sit back and live in lala land.  No more I’m done.  My heart just can’t take this anymore.  I’m picking me.  I’m saving me.  Don’t say another word.  I will be back with a U Haul Saturday.  I better walk into boxes and a clean house.  Pick the furniture you want.  I will store it and pray that someday you will use it again.  Got it Matt, yeah, sure mom…..

I remember driving home in silence.  No radio, no me, myself and I trying to come up with plans to get Matt out of whatever mess his addiction created.  Just silence and tears and prayers.  Ok God, now that I’ve lost everything I love whats next.  Are you going to take my marriage too.  How do I tell my husband of less than a year that my adult, addict son must come home.  Home is with me.  I’ve told so many stories, so many lies right to his face trying to protect Matt. Now what.  Just walk in and say hey, look who I found wondering around homeless.  Oh by the way, I’m selling the beach house cause Matt didn’t pay the mortgage he bought pills and told lies.   Oh did I forget to mention he’s an addict and now I’m bringing the demons to our home.  You’re ok with that right…. Holy Crap, Matt, what are you doing to me.

I pull up to a quiet house.  The dogs out back.  Ray on the deck.  Hey, welcome home I say without letting him see my face.  Swollen eyes will give me away.  Hey, whats wrong.  Ray grabs my arm as I try to walk past.  Hey, you’ve been crying. Talk to me.  Oh God, I have something to tell you.  Something I’ve been hiding for years.  I can’t do this anymore, live with this lie.  We sit.  You are silent as my dirty little secret flows from my mouth as the tears flow from my eyes.  I am a mess.  I can’t look at you.  I’m too ashamed and afraid of your reaction.  I stare into space and tell you it’s ok to leave.  I will understand.  I laugh and say I would leave if I could but he is my son and he is sick.  I could not live with myself if I abandoned him.  He makes me crazy and ugly at times but I love him.  There is no choice.  I close my eyes and feel the sun on my swollen face.  You get up and I’m bracing myself for goodbye when I feel your arms around me.  Do what you have to do, I know you will fight forever I would be shocked if you didn’t.  I am sobbing again.  You let me cry.  We unload my car together, the boxes of broken dreams now with me.  Life now uncertain.  The addict son coming home.  I pray for help, I pray for guidance, I pray that Ray will stay.   Addiction robs everyone of everything until there is nothing left to take but your soul……..

 

 

Heaven’s A Little Closer In A House By The Sea

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Matt,  I knew I had to trust you to do the right thing.  I had to believe you would do everything you could to find a new job and pull your weight not only with the bills but in taking care of the house.   I kept telling myself to relax and just give it time, but that nagging little voice wouldn’t let me be.   I called every few days and was getting the feeling that I was annoying you with the same questions.   Oh well, maybe it was my turn to annoy you.  Maybe it was my turn to push and push and push until you finally did what you promised to do.  Every call was answered the same way.  Yes Mom, I looked for a job today.  Yes Mom, I called about that.  Yes Mom, I paid those bills.  Blah Blah Blah.  I felt like I was reliving groundhog day all over again.

I tried to just act normal.  Working and spending time with Ray, but my mind was always drifting back to you.  Unemployment was barely giving you enough to live on and pay a few bills.  I knew the dam was going to break but had no clue that it was about to explode.

I received the call on my lunch break.  A number I didn’t recognize.  I held my breath as I answered hoping it had nothing to do with you.   Seriously,  are you kidding.  A new bank taking over our mortgage isn’t real happy with the arrangement made to keep us afloat.  The my son’ sick and lost his job card wasn’t getting any sympathy from this new gatekeeper.   Holy shit, really you want what, payment in full in 30 days to prevent foreclosure.  No amount of begging or bargaining was having any effect on this new I don’t give a shit about your problems manager who was making me feel like the biggest loser in the world.  I hung up and tried to not let the sobs escape my throat.  This was too much, the straw that broke my back.  I find a private corner and call you.  Matt we are in trouble.  I barely give you time to speak before I start to realize your speech is slurred and those hateful words, Hey Mama float out of your mouth.  My throat is closing, my heart is racing, I want to puke.  I hang up knowing that nothing I say will penetrate your brain.  You are in your favorite place.  Euphoria surrounds you as the demons take you away from reality.

I finish my shift, fly home, change.  Ray, once again is away on business preventing me from making up a lie.  Keeping our dirty little secret was hard enough, I didn’t want to start new lies.  Your addiction was turning me into just that, a liar.  Making up so many stories to cover for you that soon I feared I would forget who I told what and be caught.

Driving down in the dark allowed me to openly sob without drawing attention to myself.  I was sobbing and talking to myself feeling that familiar hopelessness wash over me like the tide I loved to watch.  How could you let me down, how could you continue to destroy everything you said you loved.  We sold everything we could spare to keep our little piece of heaven.  Now we were on the brink of losing my happy place and my heart couldn’t take the pain.

I pull up to the dark house.  Your car is there. I hear the barking.  My heart is racing,  I’m physically sick.  I puke in your trash.  Great, let’s hope the neighbors didn’t catch that performance.   I let myself in and hit the light.  You are there.  The light hits your face and I see the demons.  Hey Mama.  I grab you and start punching and sobbing and punching.  You are not fazed.  You laugh and brush me off like a bug.  I come back at you now screaming.  You prick, you coward, how could you do this to me.  I’ve loved you and helped you.  Paid your bills and given you the perfect place to live.  You repay me by spitting in my face and destroying everything I love.  I hate you.

I’m out of control.  Pulling cushion off the couches.  Dragging your mattress off your bed.  Tearing the place apart looking for your demons.  You sit watching with your glassy eyes, quiet knowing that if you speak I will attack.  I feel the bottle in your shoes.  The amber beauty you love so much.  Empty.  You SOB.  I come at you shoving the bottle in your face.  You laugh.  Your eyes looking at me but not seeing.  Your skin pale and clammy.  Your speech slow and slurred.  I slap your face, you react.  Now I’m in nurse mode.  I’m pushing you into the shower fully clothed soaking you with cold water.  Snap, you are back and pissed.  Punching and spitting and calling me names that break my heart.  We struggle, you slip past me and run into the wall.  You are bleeding, the dogs are on you protecting me.   My God, who have we become.  I don’t know these people.  I’m shaking and soaked and ashamed.  What have we done to each other.  Your demons making me ugly and hateful.  You push yourself up and slam the door to your room.  I hear the shower.  I sit holding myself as the dogs come to comfort me.

I am shocked at how I acted.  I’m the adult here, the fixer.  I fixed this alright.  The rage I felt scared me to my core.  This is not who I am.  I love you and I could have easily killed you and left you behind.  I feel like I’ve lost my mind.  You are sick and I am sick.. Your addiction is slowly killing both of us.

You approach me like a scared little boy.  It’s ok Matt, the crazy lady is gone.  We sit and let the silence hug us like a warm blanket.   You reach for my hand and I put my head on your shoulder.   Matt, we can’t do this anymore.   We can’t be these hateful, ugly people.  I don’t want this to be us.   I don’t know what to do to fix this.  I am lost and broken.   Matt, our house by the sea must go.  I’m sorry Mom.  Please don’t hate me.  Matt, I could never hate you.  We sit together.  I can’t look at you.  My tears are falling and I don’t even try to hide the fact that the wetness dripping onto your hand is coming from my broken heart.    Addiction destroys everything until there is nothing left to destroy………

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