My son just called. He started the conversation: I do not want any conflict. Let me state that, right now. I do not know what I said next, nor am I aware of what may or may not have been said between M and my son--after each had left the house. There had been a conflict in the morning. My son had stayed the night, and before I woke up, M confronted my son about his failure to get a drug test. My son denied any responsibility. He blamed me. The upshot is that M told him he had to leave the apartment I own where he has been staying. But something my son said in this phone call triggered me to say: We told you no drugs on the property. No using drugs at all while you are accepting help from us, and in our homes. You had drugs at the house. You had them at my house. You used marijuana here, and there. That is disrespect and a direct and concrete decision on your part to live as you choose, in my space, in violation to agreements you made. He proceeded to deny this. (We found the weed, the physical weed, two times in vitamin bottles he owns, on the property. We found it here on our property too.) He said: I did not use marijuana in the house. He is trying to split hairs. Like a politician he thinks he has created deniability. By not having it in the house, this time. By smoking it, outside of the house, this time. Maybe, this is the place he is standing. OK. If I smoke in the yard, on the porch, she cannot say anything to me. Apparently, he believes he is morally upright--or maybe he is indifferent. But we said: drug tests. And no use of marijuana at all in your life, when you live in our space or depend upon our support. We were crystal clear. He said he had not violated the rules. He said he had not smoked weed in the house. He said, it was my fault he had had no drug test, because I wanted a comprehensive test from the lab. My response: this is a morally indefensible position. By trying to help you, we are fostering your victimization of us, and we are hurting you, by enabling you to blame us, hold us responsible, trick us. I do not know what arrangement you may have made with M, but your staying at the other house to me is no longer an option any longer. I said other stuff, I do not remember. There was silence on his part. For maybe a minute. I hung up the phone. I had remained calm but direct and firm. I picked up the phone again to try to call M. And my son was still on the phone. He was saying sarcastically: Have a Happy Holiday. (I was shocked to find him on the phone, still--and felt wounded by his words.) I responded: I will not allow you to hurt me anymore. Please do not call me anymore. The history: He had been in our own house, but could not, would not respect our "no marijuana" request. We found marijuana, here, in our house. We told him to leave. M relented and we tried, provisionally, to offer him the opportunity to live in another property we own. This time, M would no longer let him work with him. Because my son used this as an excuse to not do for himself. We were always the ones responsible for why he could not do this or that. M removed that excuse. He said: I need your help, but I do not want you to use that as an excuse to not do for yourself. "OK." We will try your staying apart from us in property we control (even though before when he lived there we had found marijuana there, and encountered him stoned, and marijuana smell permeating the place. And then we found the actual marijuana, under the subfloor of the house.) With this new arrangement we asked nothing (but from his perspective, we asked everything) except that he do constructive things to better himself and life. And no marijuana. Therapy. (He is on SSI.) Use your time and efforts to improve your life. You decide how, but commit yourself to verifying and to a timetable, of your choosing. You are responsible to verify. We will not run behind you having the burden of proof to prove a negative, or a positive or any other thing. So, he blew it all off, most of it. It is not all his fault. Because I did run behind him asking him about this and that: blood tests for his liver; therapy; the drug test. I broke my own rules. You see, I am still very, very impaired. And today when M confronted him, my son blamed me for the lack of a drug test (because I had asked while he was at the laboratory for his liver tests that he get a comprehensive drug test--he made up the lie that a physicians request was necessary.) While ignoring the fact that he had told me a dozen times that any time he wanted he could go to the drug store or the dollar store and buy a cheap drug test. He never did. He lied. He blamed us. He has said mean, martyr stuff before: like, have a nice life. It never, ever stops hurting. He cannot see, or will not see that his own choices propelled this train to the destination at which it arrived. That makes me so sad. And afraid. I am forcing myself not to think about what will happen now, with this train off the tracks. While I do not live in a very cold area of the country--it is cold here. This time is different. He has no fallback support from decent people. We no longer have any place to stand, a way to walk this back. We are cornered. There is nowhere to which to retreat, for us. It is too clear. Before we have found a way to offer less. But now there is no way to offer less. He cares more about his marijuana than any other thing. This is the elephant in the living room. He will not stop the marijuana. He will have to live the life that comes from his decision. This will be a homeless life. Unless he decides to work. The only life where somebody on SSI can afford to smoke marijuana is a homeless life, with little food. I despair that my son will choose this life. I do not know another place to stand.