Just like when I lived with alcoholics. Or dated them. Hold your scorecards up and look where you checked all the boxes that said Waste Of Time.
Yes you are the big winner.
I knew this lesson. But hell nobody was doing anything, it was a slow night, so I just stepped right forward and jabbed a finger into someone's crazy and then I paid for it with three days of recovering from emotional outpouring. Raise your hand if you'd like to learn to pause instead of talk. I just have such a hard time NOT pointing out where people who annoy me are fucking up. It is like a really fun hobby of mine to a) be shocked by fat people and 2) be self righteous because I know a bunch of stuff.
Also after years of being ignored by the kids when they were in their latter teen years and I was a ghost in the car where they blared their music and I slowly disappeared from the relevance scale, I had a lot of talking stored up. Also I don't have my mom with a functioning brain to tell me to shut up sometimes. But I've been shut up ALL the times, for awhile now.
Well now I'm talking, charlie.
Sure, the house guest and his wheelbarrow of mental illness is unfortunate and unexpectedly now about to move into my back bedroom. Sometimes I get mad and then I hide the food he likes. But now I think really the bigger problem is my marriage is a sham and my kids all left, which is what revealed my marriage is a sham. Or is it a shame. His side of the marriage is really good. His closet is also really neat.
Okay so it's not a TOTAL sham (yes it is). It requires tending. And instead of tending I like to remember how fun it is to go on Space Mountain. I like to complain about other things and tidy the house which it all just melts back into untidiness like sandcastles built too close to the waves.
I just know this guy who is driving back here at this moment with a trailer full of stuff he moved out of his place up north is going to show up here with the stuff instead of pre-renting the storage space and taking it directly there, like an efficient person. Then there will be the discussion of unloading and I will have to say hey maybe you need to go to the storage space like efficiently. Or better yet like I mentioned, get an apartment and unload it directly into that place. And then occasionally visit here.
But this guy does not want to visit this family. If he had no job here he wouldn't even step foot in our house. This guy trashed B for four years. Then got an internship nearby and needed a place to stay and now here we are. If he moved out he would never in a million years come by to have dinner. I would like to place bets on that one, when he moves out, will he ever ever call B again to check up on him.
I'd like to put a thousand dollars on No Fucking Way, chuck.
So these have been hard discussions to have. Especially because this is the son of the person I live with, and for some reason parents do not give up on their kids.
So THAT is why I initiated that screaming battle a week ago, because if we're not giving up on this bloke, then we are FIXING this guy. If he won't go to therapy or be responsible in this house with chores and cleanliness, then it looks like we can wrap all this up with a nice restraining order.
Also I am only blogging because I should be writing my new book which I don't like very much. So that's why I'm here confessing, father, son, holy ghost, amen.
I know I'm not easy to live with. Trust me, I have to live with me all the time. But inside I'm so much fun. I'm quiet AND funny.
So let's see how this chapter rounds out, readers. This traveling turd whose destination is my beautiful peaceful farm, I truly wish he would heal up somewhere else and THEN come here, with flowers and a shamefaced grin, and say man I'm so sorry for all of this, but look I am happy now and I did it all myself.
I hope he believes in himself. And I hope I am not the towel he's wiping the ass of his soul on, because healing up takes a ton of time and I already have done too many sickies. I'm full up, and sailing on a different boat. Unfortch, he's about to board mine anyway cause he's knows a guy, and that guy feels he's redeemable.
Fingers crossed, but keep an eye out for some tiny farm I can rent and take my horses to, if I need to get out of here. ps come with me
