You

Posted by Anonymous.

I hate what I become when I am around you. I become a bitch. And with good reason, but it stays with me. For days. It gives you too much power. Way too much power over me. And I hate that.

You. You who was addicted to crack, benzos, pain killers. Hard core. $1400 in a week and half hard core. You who did it while your kid, my nephew, was in the house. You, who I entrusted with my kid when you were first starting using without my knowledge. You, who I discovered later, drove my kid in your car while you were high. You. Because of you, I am a bad mother. For not knowing, for not realizing sooner. Once I found out you were using, my kids have not come close to you alone. While you were in rehab, I put two and two together. You. You stupid bitch. And me.... stupid for EVER having trust you in the first place.

You. I went with you to that meeting. I told you my concerns. I held my tongue about my kids, when I should have punched and spit in your face. You. I was supportive. I told you I did not want you to rush back to that guy. The guy that you had only spent a month "together" with, but have known "forever". The guy that you did all these drugs with... with your kid and my kid in the house. The guy whose brother held a knife to my throat years before (who you were dating at the time. then you changed his name and continued to see him after he held a knife to my throat and slammed me against the wall). I thought you had changed, truly. I just wanted you to get better, dear sister. Wanted you to give it time. I was cautious, but was doing all I could to help you on your path to recovery, including letting the past lie while you were going through this delicate stage in regaining sobriety. I was doing it for you.... for your son.

You. You had the nerve to tell me I wasn't being supportive enough. That I wasn't telling you enough that I was proud of you for quitting, even though I had. Fuck you, bitch. I was giving you all I had considering what you had done. I was on the phone with a counselor for two hours trying to find you a specialist when certain old memories surfaced. I shared caring for your kid while you were in rehab. I told you that I was proud of the changes I was seeing. It wasn't enough for you? Fuck that. I should have walked away from you, never utter a word to you again. You have stabbed me in the back one to many times. And its personal.

You went anyway. You went to that man. In fact, you left your kid crying on the doorstep as you left. Are you a heartless bitch? You say that he is better. You say that he is a good man. He is on parole. How do we know what he is on parole for? How do we know anything about him? How is this formerly codependant relationship going to work? What about your son?

I wrote you. Telling you how pissed I was. You did not respond. You. You wanted me to take sexy pictures in lingere of you. I refused. I don't know where they are going. I will not pay part to your sorid affairs. You went again this weekend, assuming mom would be there no matter what. Not caring you thwarted her plans. You had to leave. You had to leave at a time that you couldn't even attend a function at your son's school for 40 minutes. It crimps your style right. Got to get on the road. You.

They say to you in rehab you have to be "selfish" to get better. While I agree, I don't think that this is what they mean. They mean taking time when you need time. Taking a step back when you need to take a step back. But you still need to own up to your responsibilties. You can't have it both ways. You can't have it so that mom deals with your son, talking to his teacher, feeding him, disciplining him, and just leaving him whenever you want, and then be angry when she is doing that. Kids don't raise themselves you know. You aren't stepping up. She is. You want to do something? You want to have a say in how your son is being raised. Step up. Be there. She is, afterall, letting you stay there while you recover, and you are miserable to her.

You get mad. You get mad because everyone is miserable. No one is mean to you, even if we should be. Yes. We are miserable. Because you continue to make bad decisions, even if you are not using. You do things that worry us. You throw them in our faces. It is "your decision" and the rest of us don't matter, us giving you good advice or no. we have to trust you. Trust that you are clean. Like you have EVER told the truth about that this whole time....secretive and hiding. And it doesn't matter that you essentially abandon your son in the process (even if he is living with grandmom....you are still the mom..... and you technically still have custody) And we are supposed to be what, happy? Not get cranky when, after calmly investing so much time into this, our advice, kind words, support is thrown away? Damn straight, we are cranky. And yet, you. You think it is all about you. That we are to give and give and give until you get better. Well, you know what, it doesn't work that way. You can reguratate all that you want from your meetings and call it recovery. I call it being a parrot. And while that might be semi-helping you get through each day, you are missing so much of the point.

You have NO RIGHT to get indignant with me, with mom. Or to con anyone else in the process.

You. I have supported you. You. You could have killed my daughter. You. My naive lack of awareness to YOUR issue in the beginning has made me question myself as a mother so much more than you will ever know. It is a job I take VERY VERY seriously. You. You fucked it all up. You. You essentially gave up your son for drugs, for a man. And you want him back, but maybe not enough to really do what needs to be done to get him back, not enough to do right by him. Not enough that his second grade teacher know who you are. Not enough to take him to a school function. Not enough to not leave when he is crying for you not to go.

You. My reaction each time I see you lasts for days. You. I am done with you, recovery or no. You may be clean, but your overall actions aren't speaking to me. I have been burned too many times by you. We are done, sister. But the real sucky thing is that we love your son. He is my daughter's best friend, and he loves her too. It is UNFAIR to him to punish him for your fucked up actions. I will continue to be a force in his life, and he is welcome always here. You, however, I cannot be a force in yours any longer. It is toxic. I rid myself of you.

Audience, what would you do about my nephew? How would you handle that situation (we are not letting him back with her unsupervised). I mean, how would you handle the friendship that my daughter and him have and me wanting to be a positive force in his life... without having to deal with her?