Last night, was the breaking point for me with CP. We all have one. You get shoved enough, you shove back. I shoved him, right out the door. I want things to change, but the only change I can make is with myself, and so I asked him to leave. It went a little something like this. I got home and he left and came right back, saying he has a flat tire, can he use my car to get fix-a-flat? No. He said he'd walk. Fine, it's not even a mile to the Circle K. I'm changing to workout, and he comes back, saying, if I take him to dollar general, it will save $4 and thats more money for me he can give me. And by the way I ask, where is my money? He wants to fix his tire before I get any. Fine. Mind you, he hasn't paid me but $60 in the last three weeks, when it costs 120 a week to live with me.
We get back, he works on the tire. I workout. He wants to talk after, where's my money I say? He'll give it to me in a minute. No, I say I'm eating, then getting a shower, we'll talk after that. That was when he disappeared. For an hour. He got back around 10, and I asked where my money was. He said "in the car want me to get it?" "yes" I say. He gets his wallet, waves it in my face open, and says see, it's in there. No, I don't see, I say. He pulls out $5. I said where is the rest of your money CP? "In the car want me to get it?" This is normally where I would say no, or wait and maybe forget to nag him, but this time I say yes. Because, 2 hours prior, he had $47. I go to the car with him. And ask where he has his drugs.
CP: I don't have anyMe: Cut the shitCP: Go ahead and look
This is where I tell you that CP has a trash heap for a car. Literally. You couldn't find a softball in the thing.
Me: What's this?
As I hold up a razor blade right on the passenger seat.
CP: That's oldMe: But it's on your seat. What's this?
As I pick up a CD case cover, with a white powder on it that I rub off with my finger
Me: I'm not a fucking idiot, I know what you've been doing
This is where I should state that he's been snorting oxy's on top of his billion vicoden a day addiction. Like the time I found 1/2 of a straw in my bedroom, and he said it was for coffee. It had white powder in it. Creamer, he said. Hmm, creamer has an asperin taste? He played it off as being old, so I bought that line.
Me: Whats this?
As I hold up a ripped baggie corner. Classic drug paraphanalea. The corner tear is bigger for weed, smaller for pills, medium for coke. I've been around a lot of druggies you see. He proceeds to give me some BS excuse for the baggie corner, to which I tell him to shut the fuck up. I go inside. And proceed to let it all out.
Me: Why won't you give me money? I am not asking you to cut off your fucking arm, you have been living here for free for the past three weeks, sponging off me, while I work two jobs to support three people, when I can barely support myself on two jobs. I can't do it anymore. I'm done with it. I can't make you realize what you are doing. You knew when you moved in here there were two rules. #1 no drugs. You've broken that one several times in a month and a half. #2 pay me weekly. This is the third week you havn't paid me. You aren't going to put me on a guilt trip because you are fucking up your life. Where were you the last hour?
CP: At the pay phone. And writing you a letter. I told you the truth in this letter. Me: Does that letter tell me how you've been using drugs? CP: YesMe: Right. I want you to know, that your drug dealer friends have called my brother incessently, and I talked to that girl Tracy you claim not to know. I know why you have been calling her, and you can stop fucking lying to me.
This is where I should state, that Tracy has been calling my brothers phone, leaving messages for CP by name, by nicknames of his name etc...yet CP has no idea who this girl is. Right.
CP: I don't know who that is
Me: Really? Well she said you've been buying drugs off of her. I wrote down all the phone numbers you've called, looked up the addresses of the ones I could, and I'm giving a list to Officer such and such in charge of your case tomorrow.There's more people's lives you are fucking up. You have four days til you go to rehab. Four days. You went to Detox, and had help getting off drugs. Yet, you still go back? You are going to die this way. And you dont' even care.
CP: Ok. I was ashamed to say that I was going to sell drugs to get you money. Can you tell me what numbers you have so I know who to watch my back from?
Me: Do I look like an idiot? No. And, I know you are doing drugs. Is that where my money went tonight?
CP: No. It's in my glovebox didn't you see it?
Me: No, I didn't. Go get it.
CP: I need it in case my tire goes flat on my way to work
Me: Where are you going to buy a tire at 12 am, or 7 am when you get off? Leave the money here, and get a ride home if that happens, give them gas money out of it.
CP wanted no part of my idea. In the long run, because he spent it. On what? Drugs. What did he tell me he spent $47 on? $3 worth of junk, and gas. As if I would get pissed he got gas? No, I get pissed cus you promised me 10 times you'd pay me, and spent the money on drugs instead. Then instead of saying (if it were true) "I needed gas" you said you had the money, and completely blew me off.
Me: You have no consideration for anyone, not even yourself. You are picking up trash off the streets, to support your drug habit. TRASH. Do you ever stop while you are doing that, and say...what the fuck am I doing? You've told so many lies, you don't even know what you are saying half the time. I'm done with it. You are not dragging me into your hole. You are fucking up your life, you're killing yourself, and I don't want to be a part of it. I want you out of here. You are not free loading off of me anymore. I feel bad, but not bad enough. I didn't do this to you. You are doing it to yourself.
CP: I know (this is all CP seems to say the entire time I'm ranting)
Me: I'm the only one you had left to give you a chance and now you have fucked this up too. You've pushed everyone to the brink and now I'm over it too. You have got a great opportunity to go to rehab, and you are fucking that up. You are going to die alone and miserable. You're 37 years old. When do you figure you are going to start living your life? If you told me you were a white male, I wouldn't belive it. Nothing you tell me is the truth. You lie about everything. I've had it. I'm done. I want you out of here. Now.
This went on for about a half hour. It felt good to tell him how I felt. I asked him to just go because I 'm so exhausted.
CP: Can I get a shower?
Me: No. It costs money to run the hot water
CP: But I havn't showered in over 24 hours I have to work tonight.
Me: That is not my problem. Maybe instead of tracking down drugs tonight, you could have taken a shower.
CP: Can I get my stuff
Me: Tomorrow you can
CP: Can I give you $100 tomorrow and come back?
Me: That won't happen. Today is tomorrow. Yesterday was tomorrow. The day before that was tomorrow. You get the picture. It won't happen. I'm done letting you string me along.
CP: But if I do, can I?
Me: If you want to come back here, you bring me money first thing to work, when you get off, otherwise I know you'll buy drugs with it. Don't think you're coming in this house my brother wont let you in until I call him.
I wanted to cry. Normally, I would've not let him leave once he got ready to go, because he really has no place to go. I told him to go stay with his drug friends. The funny thing is, one of the names on his call list, was on his AA sponser card. I said, why on earth don't you call these numbers when you want to use? Like you are suppose to? That is what they are for. Talk to someone who's been there. Clearly, he didn't want to be talked out of using. He took his stuff and left. I couldn't sleep all night.
This morning, he called me at 9am. To tell me he had my money. I said well bring it up here and you can go to my house. Of course, that never happened. I knew it wouldn't and that's why I'm happy with making him leave. Because eventually you get it. This isn't my first time around this track. I was so tired tonight I fell right asleep before coming into the midnight shift at the police station. CP called at 9:15. To tell me he is safe. That's nice, I say. Honestly, I was glad to know it. I thought he might have been dead or something. He told me he is at a halfway house, that he called one of his sponsors, and they are watching him there, and he will try to see me Sunday and give me the money that he claims he still has. Plus, the money from selling his car. I said, I'm not holding my breath.
You know I don't really believe that he is there. Or that he has money for me. Or, that I'll even see him again. I'm sick of the lies. I loathe liars. Honestly? I want to just cry my eyes out until I fall asleep, wake up, and cry some more. But, working 7 days a week doesn't allow for breakdowns.
And then I learned something.............................
When this is all over, when my brother is back home, and back to work. I am going to resume my life. I thank God that I don't know what he is going through. I'm happy to not be like CP. I'm happy with who I am, and how I handle my life. I am not mad at myself for giving him so many chances, because for the first time....EVER, I think of MYSELF as a kind, caring person. I normally don't think I am remotely giving. But this has truely opened my eyes to that part of my character. I can't be mad about that. If this is what it took to get me to see what other people see in me, I'm OK with it. I've thought for a long time I wanted to be a more caring person. It turns out I always have been. I've just been letting people use me. I've been letting people do it. Me.
All of life is about lessons. You learn in school, that 2 plus 2 is four, but until you actually add that up yourself, you don't really understand it. Something so simple. I've had a lot of lessons in my life. I am still trying to figure out what I'm suppose to use it for. I can't be going through it for nothing. There is a reason. All of the alchoholics, drug addicts I've loved. The divorce, the abuse. The addictions of my own. The loss of my Dad at 22. Losing my best friend at 15. The foreclosure. The reposession. the bankruptcy. The loss of two jobs. Loss of pets. If nothing else, I have something else to add to my life lessons folder.