Matt, having you home was like living in hell. I thought I saw all your ugliness spew from you before the accident. Never realizing how much control your demon’s had over your brain. I walked on eggshells holding my breath. Choosing my words carefully. Trying not to piss off the sleeping dragon. I stayed home for a week. I was emotionally battered. I never remember feeling such joy knowing that in a few days I would be returning to saving the babies. A touch of normal that I needed so badly.
So here we were stuck in another of you’re addiction dilemma’s. Was it safe to leave you unsupervised. You were instructed not to drive, but you never were one to follow instructions. Especially when the demons were calling. You’re cravings were in control and there was no stopping you from leaving the house to find the love’s of your life. I had no choice. I had to return to work and to be honest with you, I needed to get away from your ugliness. I called Mike to give him a head’s up. “Mom, you know he can’t be trusted.” “Yeah Mike, I know.” It broke my heart that after this brush with death you still thought you were invincible. Taking your keys was a joke. I knew you were sly like a fox and probably had another set hidden somewhere in the house. Plus, you’re a mechanic. I’ve heard your stories of hot wiring cars. That familiar feeling of helplessness grabbed my heart again as we brainstormed on how to once again save you from yourself.
Your addiction was seeping through the fabric of our family. Turning what should have been a joyous occasion into a problem that would keep us in a constant state of stress. All the reasoning with you about being given a second chance fell on deaf ears. You looked at me like I was the enemy, not you’re mom who once again was trying to save you.
Our house became a revolving door. Who ever was free the day’s I worked would arrive with the pretense of “hanging out with Matt”. At first you thought it was great. You thought you could batter your friends into taking you to get some extra poison. Believe me I heard how manipulative you were becoming, but your friends were my army, the Queen’s men cutting the head off your plan of self destruction.
I guess I forget just how sly you could be when pushed to the limit. You played the game to perfection. I would come home to my daily verbal assaults. Thinking my plan was working. Little did I know you had found an old contact and now had a delivery service right to the front door. Better than UPS or Amazon, you were the biggest shit with the perfect smile. I knew something was up. You were just too happy. Back to the old Matt. Mom’s intuition. Ok Matt let’s dance.
The camera’s were installed in every room. Yup even the bedrooms. Hidden behind pictures and in plants. I felt like James Bond. Little devices that allowed us to watch and hear your every move. Spying on my son. Dear God, what I wouldn’t do to save you from yourself. At first I felt guilty when I snuck upstairs to watch the new reality TV show that’d become my life. I named it, “Find Matt and Guess What He’s Up To.” I honestly had no idea what I would see. I was scared to death.
This took the place of our old game. You hide, I seek. With you underfoot all day I just couldn’t picture myself carrying down my ladder and going through the ceiling tiles like the old days. Shit, that was so much easier than playing I spy. I soon got over my guilt as I watched your hands explore places I would have bet my life you would never go near. Soon things began disappearing. Little things. Things I never would have missed had I not seen it attached to your hand.
You were right back to that Matt. Your supply coming right to our door. Being financed by me, Mike and Ray. WTH was I going to do. Stealing to buy your perc’s. My heart broke every time I saw what you were up to. My Matt once again under the control of the devil. There’s a saying that “An addict will steal your wallet then help you look for it”. Well holy shit I was living that life.
I remember the day the shit hit the big ugly addiction fan. You borrowed a Dremel kit from Mike. You would spent your days making jewelry or so you said. I use the word borrowed, but in reality you sold it right out from under him. “Hey Mom, does Matt have my Dremel set?” That question was the opening of Pandora’s box. You are both downstairs. I hear your voices. Louder and louder. Brother fighting brother as the addict helps look for something he can’t even remember selling. In the midst of the screaming, I hear the doorbell. A delivery for Matt.
I remember grabbing the guy by his shirt. Words unknown to mankind fly out of my mouth. I slap him and push him off the porch. He was expecting Matt. I am in such a rage I don’t hear or see anything. I am punching and kicking and screaming at your buddy. All the years of pent up rage flying out of my arms and fists. Beating your demon with everything in my soul. I am pushed aside. Your brother shoving me to safety. Mike is bigger. Your demon runs dropping his delivery. I throw myself on the bottle before he can grab his loss. He is gone. The pills are mine.
I am shaking, bruised and bleeding. Mike is trying to calm me as the sobs come. You appear. “WTF” are the words we hear. You’re face says it all. Your eyes hate me. You see the bottle. “WTF did you do?” I run to the bathroom. Mike grabs you as I throw your poison away. Your words cut my heart. Mike is threatening to punch your face if you don’t shut your mouth.
You and Mike now going at each other. Like panthers coming in for the kill. Sizing each other up. I close my eyes and remember my two little boys. Loving, happy, the best of friends. Addiction has changed the fabric of our family. What started as a small tear has now ripped us wide open. I try to come between you but I get the look to keep my distance. This battle is between you and Mike. I go upstairs. I throw the camera shattering it into pieces. Broken pieces like our family. I see myself in the mirror. My swollen eyes, bruised arms. I grab a towel cover my mouth and scream…….