Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Scrambled Brains.

I'm not sure I should be blogging until my meds fully kick in. I wasn't able to get down to the doctor's office to pick them up, until this morning. I probably won't be myself until tomorrow or Thursday. Y'all are just going to have to deal with me "as-is" until then. After all, it seems that life goes on regardless of my mental, physical, or spiritual situation. And the past few days have been pretty crappy.

After Nick and Jennifer left Sunday night, Roy looked at me and said,

"you know, this whole thing isn't any where near over . . ."

I knew then, that he was right. Seems nothing involving Nick is ever simple. Nick called me Monday morning before I was even out of bed. He and Jennifer wanted to come over, pick up a few things, eat some lunch, and talk with me. I told him that he could come by IF he was sober. He lied about being sober. I while they ate lunch, they told me that they had plans that evening to talk with Jennifer's parents about moving in with them. Jennifer's parents are RLDS. (Reformed Latter Day Saints) They're good people, but they don't especially care for Nick and his "lifestyle." To make things even worse, Jennifer is their oldest child, and they're having a hard time accepting that she is no longer under their control. Jennifer's grades in High school earned her a two year scholarship in Missouri. She hasn't started college yet because, she has been involved in Nicks cycle of Chaos ever since she graduated. Her parents are desperate to get her away from Nick and enrolled in school, at home. ( I'm sure that having Jen in school again would feel more normal, and in control, to them)

Once again, this morning I was awakened by Nick's phone call. He and Jennifer showed up at 10AM to pack their things and move in with Jen's parents. This time, Nick was sober, but not looking too well. Not only was he nervous about moving in with Jennifer's parents, but he was a physical wreck. Over the past year or so, Nick has been slowly discovering the many, physical, consequences of his addictions. Every time that he relapses, the price he pays gets higher. This morning, he spent the first couple of hours throwing up and trying to soothe the burning in his esophagus. Unfortunately, I don't think that destroying his health, is going to be enough to make him stop. Nick likes to think that he knows more than the doctors do. Just his little lie to convince himself that he has some kind of control. Right now, he really has no idea how out of control his life is.

As much as I hate dealing with him when he's drunk, I think today was worse. Watching him pack his (few) belongings; listening to him try to convince me (actually, himself) that things would work out fine at Jennifer's house; knowing that he wasn't going somewhere so that he could get better, but so that my household could (maybe) get better. Every time I looked at him today, I was shocked by how pale and blotchy his face looked. It's the sort of thing that a mother can't ignore, the sort of thing that demands a maternal response. But he doesn't want a mother, he wants an accomplice, and I can't do that. I can't watch him destroy himself.

So . . . I've been doing my best to stay busy today, and fight off the urge to crawl into bed, pull the blankets over my head, and sleep - indefinitely. I really have plenty to do, the hard part is not thinking. I'm amazed at the arguments and excuses that my brain can throw at me, when I least want to deal with them. I shouldn't have to justify this crap to anyone, least of all myself. It's exhausting.

Ever since Nick and Jennifer left, I can't seem to shake this gnawing feeling of concern and doubt. I know for certain that I can not continue dealing with the insanity and chaos. It's no good for any one. But I really don't have any high hopes that Nick moving out will "fix" anything, and I think that's the hardest part of doing this. For so many years, every decision or choice I've made, has been made in hopes that it will benefit Nick's sobriety. It's hard to do something knowing that isn't specifically geared towards "helping" Nick become or remain sober, without feeling like I've given up hope. With Roy, my husband, I think I did a lot of things to motivate and manipulate, him towards sobriety; but with my son, it's always been more a sense of responsibility. I'm still trying to figure out how to hang on to hope, without being responsible for creating a specific outcome. I think it's a facet of faith that I haven't quite grasped, or learned how to apply yet.

I don't know, I think my brain is scrambled right now. Thank God this day, is over, and I can call it quits for the night.

Good night.



3 howled back:

Anonymous said...

This was tough and heartbreaking to read, just because you sound so sad, and worried. I am sending you a big cuddle and my friendship and know that I can be here to listen, it's all I can but I wish it was more.

Anonymous said...

I'm glad we had a chance to talk Tuesday. It had been too long, and now that I'm reading this, I more fully understand how horrid a choice you've been forced to make. My heart breaks, but I am very reassured at the same time. You are a strong, loving person and have made the right decision all around for yourself, your family, and Nick especially. It often takes the fabric of one's being to be ripped that it can be mended and made whole again... and unfortunately, you are instrument chosen this time. Hopefully, things will stabilize and come to fruition rapidly for everyone.

In the meantime, realize you have love, prayers, and hugs from all around.

Peace my friend,

Cat said...

I know for me my bottom was when I understood nothing I did would come between the alcoholic and his drink. I could not make him change with all of the pleading in the world. It was not up to me. But gratefully he saw fit to change on his own and for himself.

I pray that your son finds peace - or the bottom of his well - so that he can begin working his way up and out of it.