N has been on my mind a lot this week. Ever since I found that CD of his. Later that same day I had a very depressing conversation with my mother. I finally had the balls to tell her that I think she’s enabling him and not helping with his situation through the constant coddling and ‘making sure’. She put me right in my fucking place. She said,
Amanda, I don’t know how long your brother is going to be with us. If the drugs don’t kill him, I’m afraid his health problems will. He’s SO skinny. He looks like shit. And that cough… it’s only getting worse. Not only that, but I don’t know if this guy he’s moving in with is a dealer or also uses. If so, what happens when they start stealing from each other? I just don’t know Amanda. -sobs- If N were to die tomorrow I would never forgive myself if I cut him completely off. And for the record, I don’t help him nearly as much as I used to. I’ve had to get to a place that I’m comfortable with regarding his addiction. You need to find your place as well. For me, he’s my son. I can’t completely let him go. I can’t do it. Cause who knows how long he’ll be in my life? I wait for the good days, then I tuck them away. Cause every good day he has isn’t a bad day and I don’t want to miss any of his good days.
Well, I’m sorry Mom. For being a judgmental bitch. I told her so but I don’t know if she could hear me through her tears. I don’t know why I’ve been assuming that my thoughts regarding N’s addiction reign supreme and she’s been getting it all wrong. Maybe it’s me who is wrong. It’s hard to tell when nothing feels right.