Posts Tagged ‘Anger’


It’s an english tea cup from a set we purchased in our travels years prior. Not replaceable yes. It’s an inanimate object not worth raising blood pressure over yet Mount St. Mom is about to go off with 30 years of compressed anger. I’m human and dangerously at my breaking point. I have gotten through my life with the wonderful gift of finding the humor in situations most cannot and will continue.



Recovery is hell, learning new coping skills with a dual diagnosis is learning to walk all over again.

My son is a strong personality like myself. We are too much alike in many ways which is probably why we argue the way we do. As an adult he and I share a communication neither of us understands, like twins with their own language.

Three days ago he was yelling, lashing out with fists and broke something during our battle of words. I already have holes in my ceiling and a door. Yesterday a more reasonable human, he said “I’m always going to be an addict mom, I have an addictive personality.” I feel his frustration because I don’t know where to go from here either. He says it’s my fault he is here in my home without a job or income and no way to go forward. I told him one more physical outburst I will phone the police. My husband provides him room and board but son thinks he shouldn’t help out financially, wow.

He is still swearing off any medical treatment for his active Hepatitis C. Without marijuana he is nauseous, suffers from insomnia that keeps him awake 3-4 days, and in pain. He gave up on doctor visits when he was offered chemo’ to treat his illness but not pain relief for his other illnesses due to his having been an addict. I don’t know what the answers are anymore. I “do” know he needs to learn new coping skills and he does too but where to go and the cost of the one after care program in county is daunting and only 5 days duration as an outpatient.

Keeping enough food in the house for all is a challenge and nights I feed the men, telling them I’m not hungry so we have enough food. I eat a piece of fruit or toast or a yogurt. Our original agreement while he was so sick in the hospital was for him to move home, recover his very bad health with medical treatment and get off drugs. To begin over.


Often times those ill in our life directly and indirectly demand so much attention we realize years later and ask ourselves “Why can’t I remember his first baseball game?” Or a daughter’s dance recital? Guilt rushes in as I get older because I have two other grown children I don’t see alot and I’m having trouble remembering icon events in their child lives. My mentally ill adult son as a mentally ill child demanded much of my 14 year single mother time in home and out. My other two unfairly were off to the sideline of forever ongoing crisis that’s their brother.

I miss my other two children alot. The idea as they got older was I returned here from the south to get to know them again. I can’t get their childhood back but I have time now. I thought I did. By nature I’m a solitary person so I have few friends, none close. Even if I did our situation would scare them off.

I’ve tried social media to reach out to people and groups about addiction but discovered over the years you can either contact other’s online or off. Chances are if you talk at length online you won’t hear anything from them offline except “Facebook me.” I gave up on that.

I haven’t seen my oldest son whom I talk to the most on the phone in two years. The last time he came down was Christmas 2012 which ended in screaming & shouting initiated by addict-son. My oldest son had rode the train here and was met by a wall of anger and insults from his brother who in our small apartment had heard conversation between us in an adjoining room about nothing in particular.

My son never came down again he was so angry and shocked by his brother’s attack, as he should be. I have a daughter also we haven’t seen in years who has her own daughter with another on the way. The idea of putting son and what little he has “out on the sidewalk” is easy to say but no doubt will draw attention and more damage from his temper not to mention he will be back where he nearly died with addiction. Help saving son has made us his physical and emotional hostages. This has gone way too far yet we don’t know what to do without retaliation.

Mad world

By The time my second son reached the age of two is was obvious he was gifted with his own talents, one being basketball.

Yes, basketball.

Though at that time in my own life I was battling my own ghosts yet to be coined a name, motherhood came first always in my heart, mind and life. I had a four year old son and now also a two year old son and they were night and day if compared.

My oldest son was soft spoken, cuddly and already gifted in art and mind. My younger son now two was a stereotypical “boy” and dove head first into everything without fear it seemed. He pursued his toddler interests with gusto, was loud yet cute and loved to dribble a basketball next door at his granddad’s where there was a large dooryard and obviously a basketball hoop to go with it.

He dribbled a basketball so well neighbors often stopped to watch him do it but once he realized he was drawing attention he would toss the ball in anger, become vocal and storm off. He was a very vocal little boy but with his dark curly locks, favorite red baseball cap, deep blue eyes and always serious look he was striking.

Because he was so cute and always wore a serious look on his face making him appear older his granddad lovingly would call him “old man,” and jokingly bark at him “who you mad at?”  Of course it was just granddad being funny yet my son would react with an angry outburst or at best a LOUD reply not expected of a child his age but his seriousness, his seemingly built in anger at the world and outbursts we all chalked up to “the terrible twos.”

One observation as his mom that did make me uneasy though I knew he was very young, was his seeming total lack of fear,  for want of a better term. He would always act before thinking, react to everything exaggerated and he was so stubborn he easily tried adult patience no matter who it was.

Some call it a strong personality being so young we just had no clue what was stirring within him, nor did anyone understand his ability to be unaffected by consequences to some of his actions as we teach children right and wrong.

Reflecting back the twenty or so years now I easily see how already by age three he was already a volcano erupting.

It is said a mother has instincts where her children are concerned.  Watching my youngest son often as we do with silent admiration as he slept at night tucked into his bed  when I did get him to stay in bed and finally fall asleep I already knew I had a difficult time ahead of me and worse, felt something wasn’t quite right about my growing little boy but couldn’t put a finger on it then.

He was a rough and tumble boy, a toddler and had his whole life ahead of him and he would certainly grow out of it.


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