Friday, October 29, 2010

The Zombie Addict

To You,

Addicts are like zombies. 

They don't know they're dead.  They don't look so good, and they're still stumbling around, but they're dead inside.

They're still looking to steal something so they can score, and use again. And again.

It's hell for them.  And those they love. 

I think hell for addicts is obsessing about how to use, when to use, stealing and working to get the money, setting up the deal, scoring, waiting until they can use and then not being able to get high. And starting over.

My heart breaks every time I think of you.

love, Me.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Rehab, Take 3

It has been only two weeks and two days, but it seems like so much longer. I guess because you have been out of our lives for the past couple years - for the most part.

It seems sad that we don't miss you and are happy that you are in a good place -- happy you're not driving in at any time and demanding this or that.  I know that you don't want to be the way you are.  But you are who you are.  It's a J. B. suit inhabited by a whole bunch of cockroaches, like Men in Black.  Looks like you but isn't really you.

Let me know when the bugs are gone for good.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

One more time

to You,

Back in rehab. Day two.  I had a good day for being told my father is dying. At least I got to get that news to you before you went under the cone of silence for the next 3-9 months.
 
I joked about that was long enough to have a baby by the time you got out . .. you did not think it was so funny. It would be a miraculous thing for me to have another baby, but just as miraculous - more so -- would be if you came out sober and sane and ready to have a life.

My dad's life is ending and you are just messing around with yours. The choices for drugs that addicts make are so insane to me but then again I make insane choices too.

It's a good thing I have so much time spent alone and handling everything.  It was wonderful to see you before you went and spend time with you.  Thanks for holding me.

Technically, I don't think I'm supposed to write you. No phones, no nothing.  I think it will get harder. But I'm waiting. It's like you're off to camp.  Drug camp.

And so much change ahead if my dad passes away. Glad for him, he will be with mom finally.
  I hope your mom doesn't pass away before you get to see her again.  well, I missed our 9 p.m. meeting of the minds, hopefully you'll be there in my dreams. And in reality come next July.
Love, Me

Monday, October 4, 2010

Back to silence

So we're back to observing the no contact rule. If I can stop calling you and not go by there, I can maybe clear up what I've done. Maybe not.

Are you really trying to just get out of paying child support? I guess you see it as an imposition and an impossibility. How hard is it to contribute $125 a week to your family? I guess you'd have to actually take a job.

It's easier to just not talk to you right now. I'm suspicious of what your true motives are. I wonder if you really want to be with your family or just get your own way.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Really?

God knows why, but I had an extra large drink and was driving by and thought Ï'll give it to him. And then you turn it into an opportunity to take a picture of me breaking the tpo on your cellphone.

OK, Not sure where you're going with this. To prove I broke the agreement so it should be thrown out? Or to gather evidence for a case against me? To try to get me arrested?

 Well, I am wrong. I should not come bring you something, or call you or ask you in.  I think that you will find a way to wiggle out of paying child support one way or another.

I think you like the drama, or are wanting to use the system to your own ends.  What you say and what you do are still not matching up.