Day 3....the saga continues

This is a really horrible thing to say, but sometimes I find myself wishing that my two oldest kids would just go ahead and die so I can stop dreading it. I want to start grieving their deaths instead of their lives and move on with life, or what passes for my life.
Wednesday, October 13
Wednesday started with what has now become my routine 50 mile round trip to the methadon clinic, followed by the 25 miles to work. No sooner did I turn on my computer, than I got a text from my younger son telling me that my older son's Probation Officer had dropped by for a "scheduled" home visit and that he was nowhere to be found. Soon after that my older daughter texted about the same thing, asking if I had spoken to my older son. Soon after that, she sent me a text telling me to "never mind" and that he had come home with one of his 'strange' friends. From that point on, I continued to receive blow by blow coverage of every coming and going by several other friends who supposedly came in, went down to my son's 'room' for a couple of minutes, used the bathroom for a couple of minutes, and then left. This went on for a few hours until I received the text that the first friend to come over was now accusing any and all of my 4 kids of taking $200 out of his pocket while he was "passed out" in my son's room. He was absolutely refusing to leave until my husband got home, whereupon he was going to insist, with my husband's authority to back him up, that everyone turn their pockets out.
She was speculating--but NOT accusing anyone, definitely NOT accusing anyone--that my son's 'strange' friend had come over with a bunch of drugs of some sort and that my son was hooking him up with friends that he knows who use. And THAT must be where the kid got the money he claimed to be missing. In the meantime, I had been trying to call, text, and e-mail my son who was not responding to any of my messages--on the phone I am paying for because I want to have the convenience of being able to reach him when I need to. I was getting more and more anxious and upset and angry with the passing hours. I was hearing varying versions of the events taking place from my other two kids, including the fact that the kid was only missing $100 and that he had changed his story to $300. Of course my daughter had decided that my son had taken the money. To make matters worse Wednesday is my late night at work and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about any of it. I sent my son a final text telling him that unless he responded to my messages, that he could expect his phone service to be cut off. I told both of my daughters to have him call me immediately so that I could be sure he got the message, because I KNEW he would tell me his phone wasn't getting service in the basement or he wasn't getting my texts, and his voicemail is always full.
I was afraid that if the stupid friend was still there making demands when my husband came home, that he would toss both of my kids out right on the spot. Then I started worrying that he would call the police, and hearing my son's name, they would more than likely send out the SWAT team. Having gotten quite the reputation during his adolescence, my son is on their radar anyway and they would love nothing more than to violate his parole and probation and throw him back in jail. Then my asshole husband called and wanted to know if I could be home by 8:00 because he had somewhere he had to be. I had told him "no", but at 7:30 he called insisting that I HAD to be home. The doctors had just finished up and I hadn't even left yet. I told him that no matter WHAT I did, it would take me more than an hour to get home. He STILL insisted I needed to be home. What the hell was I supposed to do?? Warp time?? Fly??
At that point I decided, "screw it, screw all of them." Let him toss the kids out. Let him call the cops. Let my son go back to jail and or prison--I had sent him a text telling him that I sure as hell wasn't going to bail him out or hire him a lawyer and not to expect me to send him money while he was incarcerated. Then I thought, well, if the cops DO come, they aren't likely to believe any of the players involved in the drama and the best the friend could do was to file a report. I argued with myself all the way home about how I was going to handle the kids, my husband, and any stray friends who might be lingering. And if I found that damned kid there I was going to call the police myself.
By the time I got home, I was so stressed out and upset, if I had a gun I would have gone downstairs, pointed it at the stupid kid who wouldn't leave, and told him to get the hell out of my house. Then I would have shot the two older kids, shot the husband, and then shot myself. Instead, when I walked in, my husband was on the computer--turns out he didn't have to go wherever it was he needed me home so desperately for after all. My grandson had passed out and was in bed already. The 'kid who wouldn't leave' was gone. My two younger kids were at work and the gym. My older son was sitting on the couch watching TV and eating ice cream. And my older daughter was on the phone and smoking a cigarette out back. All was peaceful and calm. It was as though nothing had even happened.
Apparently, at some point before my husband had gotten home, the police were driving by (as they do several times a day because they get a kick out of harassing my older son) and my younger son flagged them down and told them about the 'kid who wouldn't leave.' They simply told him to leave and he did. My older son had turned off his phone because one of his other friends was literally calling him every 5 minutes. My younger daughter had been at work and sent him a text to call me, which he didn't receive since his phone was off. My older daughter had been on HER phone and hadn't delivered the message to him. He always manages to come up with perfectly plausible reasons for most of his escapades.
I just stood there surveying the abnormally peaceful scene and didn't know if I wanted to scream and kick some butts fueled by all the impotent rage and fury that I had spent the day building up, or breathe a sigh of relief that no further action was required on my part. It happens to me so often that I should be used to it by now. The kids and/or my husband are having some sort of major crisis that JUST CAN NOT WAIT until I get home, yet by the time I DO get home it's all resolved. It's kind of like when you really need to sneeze. It builds up, it's almost there and then--nothing. There's no outlet for all the anticipation. All that wasted adrenaline and stress hormones.
So I just looked at everyone, refused to listen to or speak a word to any of them, went to my room, slammed my door, and took some clonazepam. I had had enough for one day--actually for many, many days.
And yet I have nobody but myself to blame...



IMO you need to get all your kids out of your home. Period. OUT OUT! No one needs this kind of drama in their life. They are ADULTS. Send them packing.

You are living the life you choose to live. When you finally get enough you will change your life.

Kathi is so right. Your two older brats are adults. Children in adult bodies but still legally adults who don\'t want to take responsibility and grow up. You need some tough love here. You are no longer responsible for their actions except as they apply to your well being.

Throw them out and they will function on their own. IF they want to live under a freeway that is their choice. They are adults.

Oh, but I AM responsible...I\'m responsible for enabling them to remain the way they are. Everything I\'ve read and been told tells me that I\'m not doing them any favors or helping them to ever be able to mature into adults. I know this to be true, and I know it\'s exactly the right thing to do, but I just CAN\'T bring myself to do it. I\'ve seen so many episodes of \"Intervention\" and I\'ve watched those families do exactly what I do and what I\'ve been doing and I\'ve seen the results.

I think I spent so many years trying to \"be there\" for them since their father more or less emotionally withdrew from them by the time they were in their teens. I think too much about how I would feel if I was them, how abandoned and alone and like I screwed everything up beyond help. I let my abandonment issues cloud my judgement. In fact, I\'m pretty sure that I feel more pain on their behalf (not even counting the pain of watching them do this to themselves) than they do.

I\'ve even thought about how \"helping\" them is really counterproductive in trying to show them moral support, because in truth what I\'m saying to them is, \"I don\'t trust you to figure out your own problems, so I have to save you.\" So, I try to give them the benefit of doubt and they screw me over again and again. And in the process I feel horrible about myself for giving in. I know I can\'t force them to recover if they don\'t want to. I know I can\'t prevent them by killing themselves if that\'s what\'s going to happen. I know I\'m trying to be in \'control\' of a situation I have no control over.

I know more about addiction and how the addict\'s brain works (or rather how it DOESN\'T work) than I care to. I argue with myself about it all the time. I tell myself that I\'m at the age where I should get to pursue my own life. Yet, I just haven\'t figured out how to reconcile myself to what needs to be done and be at peace letting go and letting them sink or swim.

I feel guilty that I\'ve let it go on this long and I feel guilty that I don\'t have the strength to take a stand and that I keep giving in to their pleas and my fears. I feel guilty for cushioning their disappointments when they were young, thereby robbing them of the chance to learn about life while they were kids and making \'baby\' mistakes while they were still safe at home and didn\'t have to make adult choices. I even feel guilty about wasting my time feeling guilty.

I think what really needs to happen is that I need to go to rehab. I\'ve heard of places where they give the families intensive treatment to teach them how not to be enablers. Knowing I do it, knowing it\'s not good for them or me, and trying to change on my own just isn\'t enough. I\'d like to take my youngest too because she is very affected by all of this. My younger son has distanced himself and my husband is a lost cause. He has actually said he is working on erasing all of the past from his mind, and with it any chance to reconcile with people who have hurt him or who he has hurt, to
take any responsibility for his actions, and to really heal the pain he feels.

My husband hasn\'t been any support to me in more years than I care to think about. I have no friends, no church, no groups. I have no support system at all and try as I will, I just can\'t face it all on my own.