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So Sorry
Bum Ba Da....I offered.
So Sorry. He made it less then 24 hours. Sober. Ba dada da bum.
It's ironic, how in his eyes, it's my fault. My problem. So sorry. He's sorry.
I'm not sorry. For my choices.
Now I'm sitting in my home, doors double locked. Windows secured, cell phone poised and ready to strike 911 gold.
Life, interrupted by an alcoholic ....tragic.... sibling.
How do I explain to anyone, the world, to the silent responsibility I shall not grant voice, that I have officially and mercilessly shed any burden of a person that is of my own blood? So Sorry, it's like that.
Released from captivity yesterday: 2:44 p.m. A year of sobriety. A year of cloudless thinking.....and evidently a time to simply bide ones craving.
Refused offers of ride to half way home. Refused lift to rehab house. Refused visit to AA. Refused. So Sorry.
I offered, just that.....no money. no hotel. no supplies. nothing, but a ride to opportunity.
Obscurity. 30 hours of silent wondering. 30 hours of knowing the historical inevitable. And then, in predictable fashion, the phone call late tonight.
His words sloppy and slurred and my instant recognition
"I'm cold and need a place to stay."
"Your drunk, there's nothing I will do for you now. I offered choices yesterday and you refused. Figure it out on your own."
" You're going to make me freeze to death? Your my sister, you need to help me"
"That's right, I'm your sister, but you're not my responsibility"
" Bring me money for a hotel or I'll call Mom and Dad, I know the protection order expired two weeks ago."
"You'll do whatever you want to do, but know this, Mom and Dad will not be helping you in any shape or form. They don't owe you anything either."
" You're asking for it"
"I'm not asking for anything but peace. Don't start with the threats .You've been out for less then a day and already your choices are effecting me. Your drunk. Find a homeless shelter. Go to AA. Figure it out Ben.
"Oh, I'll figure it out, I'll figure out your life for you and your fucked" (in the menacing tone)
"I'll accept that as a threat."
"You should"
Click.......on my part. If there are certain rules to adhere oneself with when dealing with a threatening drunk, it's don't play the word fuck game. It's a complete waste of time and energy with a potentially violent drunk. Bunker down, that's the only option. And begin life that's now filled with hours of wondering, is this the day he will finally snap and try to take my life? My parents? His own?
It's a terrible effort just to fall asleep. It's a terrible way to spend a day in life knowing that 'fuck factor' is out there, not of my choice. Not of my making. I hope from the core of my interior he does something to land himself back in jail immediately. Hopefully, tonight. But I hope from the core of my interior it's nothing to do with me, or my parents, or any other innocent out there that might cross his path.
It's ironic, what the prosecutor said about him during a hearing in November. That Ben was a "threat to himself and society." That was 4 1/2 months ago. I wonder, how is it that he is now a viable human to send out into society? Did his crime and paid his time, I suppose. But I know. So Sorry. Not a single solitary thing has changed in him since he was taken straight from the Mental Hospital and placed in jail.
And now, he is my problem. My parents problem. Our worry.Even doing nothing at all is something to haunt a mind. Our fear. It's an unnerving vibration on my imagination, the possibilities of what's will come. Desperation has made him do horrible things in the past..........what will his choices befall my world this time?
My complete and total refusal to cave to his demands will illicit his wrath, this I have no doubt. The question is, will he wrath upon himself, or my family? He's never been so homeless. So alone and without souls to suck the life out of. By his choice of course, but he will never view it as so. Never. Sigh. So sorry.
The first entry in this journal was about Ben. A year ago this month. I will miss this previous year, very much. I never knew incarceration could bring such peace and tranquility to my world.........but now it's gone and I want back the peace of mind to sleep at night.
And if anyone ever questions why my parents, or myself can live with ourselves for turning a complete and total back to my brother, I shall invite them to my housefor a night. Give them the lowdown, that if they should wake to a window rattling, or a pounding at the door, to call the police immediately and pray for the best.........we've been doing it for years and years.......
It's not over. The phone calls. The fear. No, not tonight. Not until he's back in jail, or the state hospital. Or, as I've come to accept, his death. Not until his death will peace come to any of us. Him especially. I see no other way..........
He couldn't make it 24 hours......after a year of forced sobriety........ on the outside without the ruler of his domain. His Mother, his Father, his Sister, his Friend is alcohol. I stood on one side of the fence yesterday, with open arms and only a sobriety filled plan. Alcohol stood on the other side and promised him internal salvation. He didn't want me yesterday. He didn't need my options yesterday......So sorry, we're all fucked as long as alcohol is his God.
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I followed a link of Mary's to here only to see that I may have visited with you once before. Just prior to your brother being jailed I think. I wish for you that he had been given aversion therapy whilst inside. That would have been so much kinder to him than being thrown out onto the streets to face his demons.
I do understand where you are coming from and did then too. How I wish you were able to section him for his own good and your family's too.
Alcoholism is such a dreadful illness. It doesn't just affect the addict but his whole family too. I know this as both my parents were addicted. My father took the cure and my mother died because of it. It hardens your heart because of the many traumas experienced, yet makes you so aware of how life should be lived if the alcoholic wasn't in your life anymore.
They become like strangers eventually yet they still pull and tear at your conscience....don't they?
I do understand your anguish and the hardening of your heart towards him too.
I hope there will be a way of helping all of you before the drink takes him from you all.
Stay safe.
Jeanie xx -
Personal Hell... We've experienced that here, too. It's no fun (to say the least). Good for you, Rebecca...a very difficult thing, this...;) C.
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I'm stalking your journal ;-0. Once I posted a link, a few different people emailed me about this particular entry, & I came by to see if anyone had actually commented on it. Seems some others have been down this road.
Now you know you are a great writer if "new" readers read this far down, not the norm. ~Mary
8/8/08 5:40 AM
Alcoholic and drug addict.
All hell's rain, for some would be considered tears I suppose in our broken home for 20 some years.
Our son, the youngest of two.
When I look deep into his eyes I see a man who has been harden by addictions, most often a stranger to me.
I stopped blaming myself a long time ago.
Occassionally I will kick a rock out of his way but time has taught me he had to learn to watch his own steps.
He walks a different path now but his head is never clear.
His window in time for normality had close, he still bangs his head on the glass wanting to see all that he has missed.
It's a sad factor in life....we have weak links and irresponsible reasonings.
Hold strong to your beliefs.
Love TJ
wishing you health, happiness and much laughter
http://tjexpressionsblog.blog