Even after everything that’s happened, he literally just asked me the day before yesterday, “why are you doing this?” He was asking me why I was leaving and staying gone from him, why I’m “keeping” his son from him, and why I’m seeking help from the court to order him into drug treatment. He doesn’t understand, I’m not seeking criminal charges. I’m seeking 24-hour drug treatment, and a parenting class. If he abides by those things, any charges will be dismissed. He doesn’t understand that I had no choice but to have someone force him into help. He won’t listen otherwise, and I’m not even certain he will even if he’s ordered to, but there is no other option at this point. I’m tired of everything being in limbo while he isn’t taking any steps to make anything better.
He is out of control, running amok, and losing time with his son, so something had to be done. He’s made me make another really hard, uncomfortable decision, and makes it out to be like I’m just a bitchy cop-caller. I don’t like police. To anyone who knows me, they know that’s true to the core and that it’s no secret. I would rather cut my own tongue out than to have to talk to them. I’ve had nothing but bad experiences with them since my first memory in life when I was 5 and I watched them come in and take my uncle away. I don’t want them knowing my business and getting involved in it. I don’t want them knowing me or things about me. But when you’re dealing with someone so irrational and drug-induced, other people around you start calling the police too. He has a record a mile long, so his moral compass is clearly off. He’s no stranger to jail time. I told him he was a fuckin’ menace. He said, “yeah, a cop told me that once”.
But still, to him, the problem isn’t everything he did, the problem is me saying something about it. To him, none of this would be happening if I would just shut up about it. He’s treating our lives, and well-being, like it’s just some game. He’s acting like our son isn’t 13 months old and growing bigger by the day. It’s like he’s oblivious to the shit-storm he’s causing by his erratic and illogical behaviour. He acts like his drug problem isn’t the catalyst to the entire breakdown. It is so frustrating, trying to compromise, co-parent, and communicate with someone who is taking drugs to block their “feelers”.
I had to leave him, because all I wanted to do was beat some sensitivity into him. When he just sat there with a stupid stare, I just wanted to scrape his face across the cement. It still drives me insane when he acts like that. I lose my cool around him, and I can’t risk my moral code being compromised because I’m responding to someone else’s actions. I don’t stoop down to his level, but the more he pushes me, the more I want to. The drug world, is not my world. Deceptions and dishonesty are not part of my life. Revenge isn’t something I want or lust after. At this point all I want to do is move on and get back to the me I once was.
I just want it to stop. And it won‘t stop unless I make it. I can’t stay stuck in the madness. The fighting, the bickering, the constant gut-feeling that something is off, the lies, the suspicions, junkies all over the place who won’t back off and go away, I can’t handle it anymore. I won’t leave my beautiful and fulfilling life, to be swallowed up into a darkness that kills everything in its path.
So, silly me, the problem isn’t him, and the drama, the abuse, the drugs, the dirty trash he keeps around, the problem is that I’m not there to take it, and I’m not staying quiet about it anymore.
PTSDDiaryPartII 