Well, shit. I'm really pissed.
Tyler came home this morning sometime between 05:00 and 07:00; I woke him up at 08:25 to see if he was going to his meeting.
Well, he wasn't; he just isn't ready yet, he says. He says that one of his counsellors told him that, too. Not ready to give up the dope, the doper friends, the doper life.
I guess that he just needs to hit the bottom, dammit. I had hoped that we could forestall that, but I guess that it's a necessity for some people.
He wanted to sleep so that he could go to work at Gumby's delivering pizza tonight, but I told him that he would have to sleep somewhere else.
So he packed a coupla bags and left. We exchanged a hug when he left, and I had to turn away to keep him from seeing me crying... which was pretty damned silly, I guess. Kids who make their dads cry otta be forced to watch...
Dammit, I love him with my whole heart, but I can't be responsible for him. I just hope that he can be responsible for himself. He knows that I'll be here when he needs me.
But, like I've told him, my love is unconditional... but my help isn't.
He'll be staying with a friend in Lawrence for a coupla days, then with a friend here in Topeka. So he won't be out on the streets just yet.
And now I have to get some sleep. Work tonight...
More tomorrow...
Scratch that.
It's 17:51, and I haven't been able to get to sleep yet, dammit. So I gave up on it and made a pot of coffee.
These three-night weekends really suck. There is no logical way to turn around my sleep schedule, and it gets all screwed up, along with my head.
Part of the sleeping problem is that I'm thinking about Tyler, of course, but I can't really blame a chronic problem on him, can I? I keep thinking that I did something wrong, and I know damned well that I didn't, but it still feels wrong.
He is an addict. His mother says that he's not, he just likes to get high. I think that it's really hard for someone who's not an addict to understand it... it's not a simple thing. Not at all.
I'm an addict, of course, so you think that I would understand it... but I don't, not really. I know how to cope with it OK, and I understand what's going on in my own head, and I think that maybe it's the same thing that goes on in other addicts' heads too, but I don't know that for sure.
But it's not simple. It's not a matter of just not using, it's a matter of thinking differently about life more than anything else.
It's not a little problem, and it's not a temporary problem. It's a bitch, that's what it is, a bitch that sits on your shoulder and tells you how to get what you really, really want... surcease from life's problems. The bitch wants you to use.
Escapism comes in many forms, and we all practice it. We go to shows, we watch TV, we read books, we weave our lives into the web. All to avoid the day-to-day realities of living.
And dying.
But for some of us, the bitch is always there, saying, "Drink! Snort! Smoke! INJECT!"
We can ignore her, but it's hard, hard, hard. We can beat her down to where her voice is but a whisper... and then she gathers her energy and SCREAMS.
Yeah, she's screaming in my ear right now. You figgered that out, didn't you?
There is nothing I'd rather do than call in sick and get a big bottle of Jack Black and sit down and drink it. But I've had years of ignoring the bitch, and I'll ignore her yet again.
I have to do it. I have to survive.
And it helps to smoke one cigarette after another for some reason... not exactly a good plan for survival, heh.
Tyler has to take care of himself, and I have to let him.
Tough love is.... well, it's tough.
Dammit, there are a million things that I need to get done around here. Need to mow the grass... damned fertilizer, anyway. Need to finish the deck stain in front (Tyler didn't get it all done) and start on the back. Need to paint the trim all around the house. Need to, need to... damn, the list goes on and on. Need to finish the kitchen.
Need to sleep. Gotta wait until morning for that one, though.
And it's a really beautiful day here. The cool front arrived, and the temp is in the lower 70s, light breeze, I should be fishing... or mowing the lawn, or working outside doing something. But I'm too tired to get started on anything, gotta save my energy for work.
I didn't get to sleep last night until after 02:00, and I was up at 07:00. Combine that with the poor night that I had Saturday night... and Friday night... I'm a mess, energy-wise. As in none.
About the only thing that I accomplished this weekend was getting the computers (the WIN machines, anyway) connected to the web. While I was woking on the main machine, I caught some high voltage from mom's old monitor, which I'm running with the case off still... that was a big surprise, let me tell ya! I just barely brushed the inside of my left upper arm against it, got a burn the size of a pin-prick. I was well-grounded through the other machine, I guess.
I think in the next coupla hours, I'm gonna fire up the Linux machnie and try again... hell, it'll keep me occupied so that I don't have to listen to the bitch, anyway...
More tomorrow...