Saturday, July 23, 2011

Open letter to my oldest son

Dear Son,

When you were born I made a promise to love you, keep you safe and raise you to be a smart, decent, responsible human being. No small promise as I was just 17 years old. But I was determined to show everyone I could do this- and without a "baby daddy" - who by the way has NEVER shown any kind of interest in your life. Fucking loser.

You and I have been through A LOT together. I hope that you don't even  remember some of it- I have done my best to block a lot of it out.  But we survived- and at one point it was just you and I. Sure Nana and Papa loved us and helped- but it was you and me...everybody else be damned.

I gave  up a lot to be your mom. And I have no regrets.  And it is with great sadness that I write this to you now.  Although I know I am not perfect- and I made my share of mistakes while raising you- I DID NOT raise you to be the selfish, self destructive, hurtful, manipulative  person you are today.

I have defended you through all your troubles in school. I have shelled out so much money- money I did not have to make sure you graduated. I gave 110%  of myself- quitting a job, fighting with my husband, subjecting your autistic brother and impressionable sister to the knock down drag out fights we had- the police being called on many occasions.

You stole my brand new car and totaled it- I still was at your side in court. You got a felony larceny charge for randomly breaking into a car- I was there. Again- shelling out money I didn't have- for YOU.

I cried and lost sleep when you went to jail. I worried about you hourly and I hoped that this was going to change you. I hoped you had faced your demons, accepted your shortcomings and were ready to move on with your life. I truly thought you were ready to grow up when you got out. I was ready and more than willing to help. But now, as I watch you spiral out of control- unwilling to change what needs to be changed- face the fact you have a drinking problem - and allow people to HELP you I realize that your rock bottom is yet to come. And that breaks my heart.

You call me filthy names, you tell me to Fuck off on a regular basis- yet still I let you live in MY house, rent free. You are DESTROYING our chance at a wonderful mother/son relationship. I am starting to cringe  when I hear you walk in the door. I hate that I don't even like my own kid very much anymore.

I have finally reached the end of my rope. When I got the 3 A.M. phone call from jail AGAIN- that was the beginning of the end. It is time you learned how \to be an adult. It is time you stopped shitting all over your family- the people who do everything for you. The people you verbally smack down every time you don't like what they say. 

You have 2 choices now. Either man up and join the service- preferably the Navy- or get the hell out of my house.  I am done, done so damn done. You have told me to fuck off for the last time. You need direction- you need to dry out- you need discipline- you need structure. And right now- the only way you will get that is by joining the service. You may get out of more jail time too.

I keep saying I am done crying over you - but I am not. I love you, and I wish I knew where the hell I went wrong, and why you turned out the way you did- why even though I did my best to teach you right from wrong, and how to be a good man - you are still  lost.

You have amazing talent- it seriously blows my mind. Talent oozes out of you. You are good with people, handsome and people are drawn to you. And you are destroying it. Destroying it all with booze, and a "Fuck the establishment" attitude that will NEVER get you anywhere.


I have loved you, defended you, protected you and taught you. Now you are 20 years old and it's time to do for yourself.  You have  two weeks to decide. If you choose not to decide and hope it all blows over- or I will forget- you are sadly mistaken.

I know you will hate me for this, and I know you will pull out your arsenal of venomous, hate filled insults.  It will hurt me- as usual. But the difference this time is I will use the hurt to be strong- instead of letting it rule me. 

No matter what you think- I DO love you- and the cliche phrase "This hurts me more than it hurts you"  has never been more fitting.

I truly hope you make the right choice.

Love,
Mom