Needed to vent so I wrote this for my mother
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Sep 2015
Location: Calgary, Alberta
Posts: 1
Needed to vent so I wrote this for my mother
I am soooooo frustrated and angry. I'm not upset that you used, I get it, it's an addiction. I know that you have to fight nearly every day to keep going forward, to not get pulled back to it like a needle to a magnet. I also know that 99% of the time you win that battle, and I'm proud of you for that. Just like I wouldn't condemn a champion prize fighter for having a loss on his score card, I don't judge you for the times you've fought and fallen. Rather I applaud each and every time you get back up to go another round with the daemon, when you take that life you want, the life of freedom, and safety, and relationships, and place it firmly in front of you so that can push on and past that deep-down aching for another hit.
What I'm angry at is that you went into a bank account with MY NAME on it and flat out committed fraud. There's no hiding from it, or calling it by another name, or saying it's not as bad because you "did the math," and the money would be there in time. Don't deny, don't blame it on anything or anyone else, and for goodness sake, don't try the woe-is-me act. It doesn't fly with me. You committed a felony with MY NAME. Period. And you don't seem to get it.
I'm also angry that you hid it from me. I was fighting tooth and nail to get you what you needed, to help you when you were in a horrendous situation. I called, cajoled, begged, and cried to some very important people, and didn't even mind because you needed this to happen. I missed school, I missed work - and I think you understand how big of a deal at least one of those is. Yet, I didn't even think twice about it, because you needed it. You sat right next to me the whole time watching, knowing what you had done, and what that could mean with out so much as a whisper. It's not like you couldn't have found the right moment, you had already had over a month to fill me in. Seven weeks of pretending everything was peachy keen, seven weeks of lies. I wonder what you were thinking when I was frantically trying to juggle numbers, so that you had a possibility of making things work, while the account sat practically empty, not at all able to fulfil the promises you asked me to make to people.
I'm angry that my best friend gave you her life savings to help you out and then because you felt bad about yourself, you became rude and hostile to both of us. That you, instead of seeing a gift that kept you from being homeless, only saw a roadblock to your next cheque.
I'm frustrated that you dared to say I didn't trust you, and that I never let you have control over yourself when mere months after we made arrangements for you to be more in charge and have more freedom, you blew it all and committed fraud. That's correct, COMMITTED FRAUD. Yes, directly after lying and stealing you tried to blame me for not trusting you. Of course, the ironic thing is that, when I saw that bank balance that was dreadfully close to zero, my first thought was that some how the bank must have messed up or maybe that you brother had somehow managed to find a way in. Once I saw that the money in, did in fact, equal the money out, I filled with complete panic because I was sure that I had screwed up somewhere. That somewhere along the long I had miscalculated, or forgot something on the budget, or I had written something down wrong. That somehow I had cost you everything that suddenly seemed in reach. You didn't even make the list of contenders for why a thousand dollars could be missing. No, it isn't that I didn't trust you when I could have, it's that I trusted you enough that I forgot about your addiction, about how easy it is for it to win a round.
I'm also angry that you won't hear me, that you will wrap yourself in a blanket of accusations and excuses, trying to throw your actions at others like venom to keep yourself from having to look in the mirror and recognize your limitations, from accepting that this truly is a life long battle, and it's not a terrible thing to have others help you fight it, and from issuing forth a simple, "I did it. I'm sorry."
And I'm frustrated that as angry as I am, I won't be able to hold on to it for long, because someone needs to make the decisions that you can't. I get that that someone is me, that it has been since before it was right, I'm not fighting that, and I don't resent it. I am just so angry, that I want time to be angry, I want to lash out and say stupid things, I want to be stubborn and unreasonable, childish even. Luxuries that have been out of reach since the beginning. Instead, tomorrow when I see you to manage the part of your business that must be managed, I will be calm, and say appropriate things. I will ignore your snide comments, immature behaviour, and even your anger towards me because I've let you feel the consequences of your actions. I will not react, as you desperately try to push any button you can think of. I will not shout, I will not let you push me off course. Instead I will quietly do what needs to be done, and in time when you are able to, we will go over what happened together and much like a parent explaining a story to their little one, I will try to make you see what happened, and what could have happened. I will help you find things that you can use to make yourself stronger for next time, I will listen to your hurts, and I will make the right decisions even when they are difficult and you fight against them.
I know that eventually I won't be angry any more just maybe a little wiser and a little more wary of the strength of your addiction and that in time you will be able to forgive yourself. When that happens I hope that we can get back to the 99%.
What I'm angry at is that you went into a bank account with MY NAME on it and flat out committed fraud. There's no hiding from it, or calling it by another name, or saying it's not as bad because you "did the math," and the money would be there in time. Don't deny, don't blame it on anything or anyone else, and for goodness sake, don't try the woe-is-me act. It doesn't fly with me. You committed a felony with MY NAME. Period. And you don't seem to get it.
I'm also angry that you hid it from me. I was fighting tooth and nail to get you what you needed, to help you when you were in a horrendous situation. I called, cajoled, begged, and cried to some very important people, and didn't even mind because you needed this to happen. I missed school, I missed work - and I think you understand how big of a deal at least one of those is. Yet, I didn't even think twice about it, because you needed it. You sat right next to me the whole time watching, knowing what you had done, and what that could mean with out so much as a whisper. It's not like you couldn't have found the right moment, you had already had over a month to fill me in. Seven weeks of pretending everything was peachy keen, seven weeks of lies. I wonder what you were thinking when I was frantically trying to juggle numbers, so that you had a possibility of making things work, while the account sat practically empty, not at all able to fulfil the promises you asked me to make to people.
I'm angry that my best friend gave you her life savings to help you out and then because you felt bad about yourself, you became rude and hostile to both of us. That you, instead of seeing a gift that kept you from being homeless, only saw a roadblock to your next cheque.
I'm frustrated that you dared to say I didn't trust you, and that I never let you have control over yourself when mere months after we made arrangements for you to be more in charge and have more freedom, you blew it all and committed fraud. That's correct, COMMITTED FRAUD. Yes, directly after lying and stealing you tried to blame me for not trusting you. Of course, the ironic thing is that, when I saw that bank balance that was dreadfully close to zero, my first thought was that some how the bank must have messed up or maybe that you brother had somehow managed to find a way in. Once I saw that the money in, did in fact, equal the money out, I filled with complete panic because I was sure that I had screwed up somewhere. That somewhere along the long I had miscalculated, or forgot something on the budget, or I had written something down wrong. That somehow I had cost you everything that suddenly seemed in reach. You didn't even make the list of contenders for why a thousand dollars could be missing. No, it isn't that I didn't trust you when I could have, it's that I trusted you enough that I forgot about your addiction, about how easy it is for it to win a round.
I'm also angry that you won't hear me, that you will wrap yourself in a blanket of accusations and excuses, trying to throw your actions at others like venom to keep yourself from having to look in the mirror and recognize your limitations, from accepting that this truly is a life long battle, and it's not a terrible thing to have others help you fight it, and from issuing forth a simple, "I did it. I'm sorry."
And I'm frustrated that as angry as I am, I won't be able to hold on to it for long, because someone needs to make the decisions that you can't. I get that that someone is me, that it has been since before it was right, I'm not fighting that, and I don't resent it. I am just so angry, that I want time to be angry, I want to lash out and say stupid things, I want to be stubborn and unreasonable, childish even. Luxuries that have been out of reach since the beginning. Instead, tomorrow when I see you to manage the part of your business that must be managed, I will be calm, and say appropriate things. I will ignore your snide comments, immature behaviour, and even your anger towards me because I've let you feel the consequences of your actions. I will not react, as you desperately try to push any button you can think of. I will not shout, I will not let you push me off course. Instead I will quietly do what needs to be done, and in time when you are able to, we will go over what happened together and much like a parent explaining a story to their little one, I will try to make you see what happened, and what could have happened. I will help you find things that you can use to make yourself stronger for next time, I will listen to your hurts, and I will make the right decisions even when they are difficult and you fight against them.
I know that eventually I won't be angry any more just maybe a little wiser and a little more wary of the strength of your addiction and that in time you will be able to forgive yourself. When that happens I hope that we can get back to the 99%.
Nature Girl
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: By The Lake
Posts: 60,328
Welcome from another Canuck, I'm glad you found us.
Your story touched my heart, I went through much the same with my adult son who is addicted to drugs.
What helped me was to find meetings where I could share safely with people who understood, and where I learned to work a program that set me free from anger, resentments and fear...the three rulers of my life for years and years.
Reaching out is a big step and you've done that here. My prayers go out for your mother and for you. Addiction is truly a family disease.
Hugs
Your story touched my heart, I went through much the same with my adult son who is addicted to drugs.
What helped me was to find meetings where I could share safely with people who understood, and where I learned to work a program that set me free from anger, resentments and fear...the three rulers of my life for years and years.
Reaching out is a big step and you've done that here. My prayers go out for your mother and for you. Addiction is truly a family disease.
Hugs
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