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….
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