First, for Gratefulness
Hubby was able to get J to agree to go to rehab yesterday.
J had said in the past that he was willing to go, but he was always saying “I’ll go tomorrow”. That was the case yesterday when hubby went to get him. He wanted to wait to party tonight and get his paycheck tomorrow. Of course that would lead to a paycheck fueled heroin bender. Hubby was able to help him see that the next high could be the one that kills him, and also that the people he was going to hang out with tonight would be happy that he was getting help if they really cared about him.
So, hubby and (step-daughter) A took him to the facility that I found and were able to get him the last available bed, which I had put a temporary hold on, by telling them that he was on his way. I couldn’t be more grateful that he got that last bed.
After getting him admitted, hubby had to go buy him new clothes. The jeans that J owns are way too big on his drug emaciated body. And, of course, no belts or drawstrings allowed in rehab. So, new jeans, sweatpants, t-shirts, sweatshirts, underwear, socks. Thank God for places like Forman Mills where those things can be picked up cheap. And, again, I’m grateful that we happened to have a little extra money from Christmas, that we were able to fund this.
Now, for the RAGE. The mother.
Hubby and A, with grandson in tow, arrived at the house that J and K share with their mother at 11:30 in the morning and everyone was still asleep except the mother, who had just woken up. The house looked like a crack den. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Razor blades, pot bowls and bongs and various other drug paraphernalia littered the coffee table in the living room along with more dirty dishes and trash. The house reeked of cat piss and shit. The litter boxes looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. Stacks of mail. Upstairs in J’s room, dirty laundry was everywhere. And, since the litter boxes were full, the cats had used the piles of dirty laundry to take care of business.
I’m getting upset again just thinking about it.
Now, I’m not trying to say that the kid isn’t responsible for his own actions, he is. But, he’s also a drug addict and housekeeping isn’t exactly on his list of shit to do. I don’t know what role K has played in the lack of housekeeping. Personally, I can easily see him getting fed up and just quitting trying to keep anything clean, except his own room.
But, where the fuck is mother during all this? J is getting more and more in trouble with drugs. How does she let everything get this out of control? Because she doesn’t give one shit about anything except getting the kids to pay their share of the rent. Period. She buys junk food, cigarettes and prepared meals from the local convenience store (I’d pay big money for a Wawa coffee right now) which are so expensive. The house has cable boxes in every room which really boosts the cost of cable TV. She doesn’t work. She spends more then she has on a consistent basis and then ,…SHE HITS HER KIDS UP FOR MONEY. Seriously, I shit you not.
The mother was actually wanting to wait until J got his paycheck for him to go to rehab because she was broke and needed his check.
Think about that for a minute. She didn’t want her seriously drug addicted son to go to rehab until she got her paws on his next paycheck.
Then…she doesn’t go with them to admit him to the rehab. She went back to bed. Hubby really didn’t want her to go because, since she is an attention seeking bitch, she would make a huge scene wailing for son. But, we know she’s mostly sad because of the paycheck. She didn’t even offer to watch grandson, so they had to drag an energetic 4 year old to the rehab facility with them.
Awesome. That went well.
Obviously, I wouldn’t want A to leave him at that house, not that she would, but the mother often babysits at A’s house. But, that couldn’t happen yesterday, because the mother was so upset (about the paycheck probably). Her own feelings have always come before the needs of her children. She’s only helpful when she perceives that it will somehow benefit her.
And, now the Sorrow.
We have to leave K in that hellhole with that piece of shit, selfish mother. And now that his brother is in rehab and no longer bringing in any money, we are sure that the mother is going to increase K’s responsibility. And we can’t do anything to help him. And J will not be going back there. First, because we have to get him away from the people, places and things that are triggers to his drug use. But also because the mother doesn’t want him back. Too difficult to deal with. (rage is seeping back in) J is going to need a primary doctor, a therapist and strict attendance at NA meetings and she will not help him make that happen. Because he will need help. Again, yes, the responsibility is his, but he is going to need a helping hand.
The only bright spot here is that the mother is talking about wanting to move to Maryland to her father’s house, which would leave K able to move in with A and save some money to get out on his own. But, I don’t believe she will actually do it. After all, she’s been saying for 10 years that her doctors say she only has 6 months to live and she still hasn’t bothered to die. Liar or luckiest person alive? My money is on liar. Attention seeking bitch.
I never believed that it was possible for a step-mother (me) to love a child more than his biological parent. That bond is something that everyone tells me I can’t understand because I don’t have children of my own. But, I know that I love these kids more than their mother does. My focus is on helping them be the best them that they can be. Her focus is on what they can do for her.
If you’ve stuck with this rant this long, I thank you. If you haven’t, well, I don’t blame you. Such a mess.