I'm still here...hanging in. One minute at a time. Nothing tragic to report in the last couple of days. I feel a bit like I'm stabilizing emotionally. I'm not really sure though. Every meltdown I have catches me by surprise and its intensity shocks me. I'm sure one is just around the corner.
I have only spoken to my son once in 7 days. His presence gives me chills of pain and sadness. The person who taught him to inject has reappeared in his life, calling our house. If there is one person on this earth I think I could actually kill, it would be him. He is patient zero in the decimation of my family. For months after I found out about my son's habit, I would drive my car around the neighborhood looking for this person...stalking him, hoping to hurt him. I never found him, I had hope he died or left town. Looks like cockroaches have persistence.
I don't even know what to do about my husband. He seems insane to me. His touch makes my skin crawl, his words feel like insincere lies, his face seems entirely unfamiliar. I wish for awful things on him too. Yet...still I am intoxicated by him.
So, even though everything has changed, everything is still exactly the same...just plain sick.