Actually I should say here he goes again, not here we go again. We are not going anywhere together from the looks of things. Nothing has changed in the month that he was gone. The only reason he is back home is because he fell and injured himself. He had to go to the hospital and get stitched up, so being the idiot that I am, I went and picked him up there. Then the vicodin was a given and of course he took them all. He did not really have a place to stay, and I told him that he could stay for 2 or 3 days and then we would talk. We never really talked. I finally told him, you cannot stay here unless you are clean and in treatment.
He never went to treatment or even a meeting. He seems higher than a kite tonight, all wound up and excited. Why do I not tell him to go again? It is not because I am afraid of being alone. I liked it when he was not here. After about 3 weeks, I missed him mildly. What does that tell you?
I do need money as all of mine went to pay for the house payment. It is way, way too high for both of us to pay, never the less one of us. He gave me some when he was gone, but most of his was garnished for the treatment program that did not get paid. I cannot make it on my paycheck right now. Some changes would have to be made. I am too lazy to make those changes I guess.
I am pissed off to the max right now. I am so damned angry at him and his addiction. I am angry at his choice again. I am angry at my choice, again. I am mad as hell when I hear the happiness of the drug in his voice. For God’s sake, his grandbaby does not even know him as he does not go to see him. Of course he is not allowed when high. Time is passing, time is ticking away. His chances with the grandbaby are going to slip away. It makes me sick. It makes me sad. It makes me mad, so very damned mad.
I do not even want to hear his voice as he is blabbing on and on about the day’s events. I don’t feel like it is a real person talking. It is the drug. It is always the drug. It will always be the drug. Always.
How many times, have I hoped and prayed? How many times do I try to convince myself that it will change? It could change, he could choose differently. He could choose to seek help, to seek life as some say. Instead he chooses not. So what does that mean? It means that is he is not choosing life, then he is choosing a sure death. There, I have said it. In my opinion, he chooses death. What a waste!