Well, the weekend has come and gone, and today will be 5 days since the prosecutor ordered difficult child out of my house. I received the first text from him yesterday morning, wanting to know if I would get him one of those prepaid visa cards so he could get some food. I told him absolutely not...I would not give him any type of money whatsoever, but that I would go buy him a few groceries and leave them on the back porch. His reply was not to worry about it, that it was too much trouble, and he didn't have anywhere to put groceries. I proceeded to ask him where he was staying and he said it depended on the day. I asked him if he was working, and he said no because he lost the keys to his truck last weekend at a rodeo, and doesn't have the money to get another key made. So his truck has been parked at a friends house since last Saturday. I'm assuming that whoever he is staying with is going to get tired of him being a bum...so I'm sure it's a matter of time before I get the phone call that he has nowhere to go, nowhere to stay....same song and dance as before. He just doesn't get it.
As parents, we have always wanted our children safe from harm. We never want them to go hungry. We want the best possible life for them. And that's what I'm struggling with the most....is he safe, is he hungry, etc. It kills my soul that he has chosen this path in life. To be SO smart, yet so dumb. To have so much to offer the world, yet waste his life away doing absolutely nothing to better it.
I did also tell him (via text) that when he was FINALLY ready to get help, I would be there to lend a helping hand. But he has to want it. And he has to prove to me that he wants it. As of right now, because of all of the lies and deception, his words are just words. They mean nothing to me. And then, of course, I ended our text conversation saying that the only reason I'm doing this is because I love him, and I can't watch him self destruct anymore. As somebody once told me, if I don't toughen up and quit enabling, I am going to "love him to death". Literally. Tough love is hard. But I'm learning.
I went upstairs to his bedroom last night to feed his fish (he always wanted to study marine biology, or go to vet school. He is BRILLIANT when it comes to nature. Steve Irwin was his idol). His room alone makes me sad, and ill. After I had him arrested last year, and he supposedly was not using anymore, his focus was on fish and fish tanks. He said it was his new hobby, away from drugs. He spent a lot of the few paychecks he got fixing up the 3 fish tanks he has in his room. I didn't pressure him about not paying me for his bills because I was relieved that he had a new hobby other than drugs. But I did finally say that enough is enough...you have plenty of fish and fish stuff...it's time to start paying your bills. I explained that I had been biting my tongue, and he could simply start paying me the 40.00 a week that we agreed to, or there would be an argument. I wasn't going to let him get away with it anymore. Explained that he is 20 years old, and it's PAST time that he be responsible. I might as well have been talking to a brick wall. His money would be gone before I had a chance to tell him to pay up. So he said. That's another thing I'm SICK of. Excuse after excuse after excuse. Anyway, what makes me ILL about his room is the nastiness of the carpet. We live in a nice home, well maintained (minus the damage he's done), and he could care less about anything in it. His carpet is disgusting...spilled bottles of dip, cigarette burns, drink spills, etc. It makes me cringe to see it. And it irritates me that he has no sense of respect for my home. My front door is covered in dents from his knuckles. As is my refrigerator. The same goes for his truck. It has more dents and dings than I can count. I even had all of the dents pulled out and had it painted before he went away to college. You can't tell it now....back to the same condition. Where did he learn such violence? That kid never had a hand laid on him, nor was I a parent that yelled and screamed. I didn't believe in that type of parenting. Maybe I should have?
Another reason for waking up with a knot in my stomach is the fact that I'm going to be a grandmother. I'm in my early 40's. This isn't a joyous occasion, as it should be for most. He 's not married. She's still in high school. He's not working, and still using drugs. Neither one of them can take care of themselves....yet alone, a baby. So, guess what? I get to go from living in hell for the past 5 years due to difficult child's problems, to helping raise a baby. I might as well give up any of my own hopes and dreams. I'll never have my own life, my own freedom, my own privacy. Selfish? Sure. But that's the way I feel right now.
I guess this post is just me venting...and asking for motivation to keep being strong. It's not easy. But neither was the hell that I lived in my own home for sooooooooo long, thanks to difficult child and his antics.
As parents, we have always wanted our children safe from harm. We never want them to go hungry. We want the best possible life for them. And that's what I'm struggling with the most....is he safe, is he hungry, etc. It kills my soul that he has chosen this path in life. To be SO smart, yet so dumb. To have so much to offer the world, yet waste his life away doing absolutely nothing to better it.
I did also tell him (via text) that when he was FINALLY ready to get help, I would be there to lend a helping hand. But he has to want it. And he has to prove to me that he wants it. As of right now, because of all of the lies and deception, his words are just words. They mean nothing to me. And then, of course, I ended our text conversation saying that the only reason I'm doing this is because I love him, and I can't watch him self destruct anymore. As somebody once told me, if I don't toughen up and quit enabling, I am going to "love him to death". Literally. Tough love is hard. But I'm learning.
I went upstairs to his bedroom last night to feed his fish (he always wanted to study marine biology, or go to vet school. He is BRILLIANT when it comes to nature. Steve Irwin was his idol). His room alone makes me sad, and ill. After I had him arrested last year, and he supposedly was not using anymore, his focus was on fish and fish tanks. He said it was his new hobby, away from drugs. He spent a lot of the few paychecks he got fixing up the 3 fish tanks he has in his room. I didn't pressure him about not paying me for his bills because I was relieved that he had a new hobby other than drugs. But I did finally say that enough is enough...you have plenty of fish and fish stuff...it's time to start paying your bills. I explained that I had been biting my tongue, and he could simply start paying me the 40.00 a week that we agreed to, or there would be an argument. I wasn't going to let him get away with it anymore. Explained that he is 20 years old, and it's PAST time that he be responsible. I might as well have been talking to a brick wall. His money would be gone before I had a chance to tell him to pay up. So he said. That's another thing I'm SICK of. Excuse after excuse after excuse. Anyway, what makes me ILL about his room is the nastiness of the carpet. We live in a nice home, well maintained (minus the damage he's done), and he could care less about anything in it. His carpet is disgusting...spilled bottles of dip, cigarette burns, drink spills, etc. It makes me cringe to see it. And it irritates me that he has no sense of respect for my home. My front door is covered in dents from his knuckles. As is my refrigerator. The same goes for his truck. It has more dents and dings than I can count. I even had all of the dents pulled out and had it painted before he went away to college. You can't tell it now....back to the same condition. Where did he learn such violence? That kid never had a hand laid on him, nor was I a parent that yelled and screamed. I didn't believe in that type of parenting. Maybe I should have?
Another reason for waking up with a knot in my stomach is the fact that I'm going to be a grandmother. I'm in my early 40's. This isn't a joyous occasion, as it should be for most. He 's not married. She's still in high school. He's not working, and still using drugs. Neither one of them can take care of themselves....yet alone, a baby. So, guess what? I get to go from living in hell for the past 5 years due to difficult child's problems, to helping raise a baby. I might as well give up any of my own hopes and dreams. I'll never have my own life, my own freedom, my own privacy. Selfish? Sure. But that's the way I feel right now.
I guess this post is just me venting...and asking for motivation to keep being strong. It's not easy. But neither was the hell that I lived in my own home for sooooooooo long, thanks to difficult child and his antics.
