gracklesagainstdemocracy-blog

[gracklesagainstdemocracy-blog]

My mind keeps playing tricks on me. I know how incredibly fucked up I am. And you keep telling me, as if I don’t know or will forget. Last night you were on pilfered Xanax from your sister, a large amount of cocaine, so much alcohol that I didn’t know of. You took an old bottle of my vodka I found in a cat crate, mixed it “with something (you) found in the fridge” and drank it throughout the night. You kept offering it to me and when I declined, you remembered I have an issue with alcohol and you would cry out “oh my god, sorry!”. Even though I never accepted it. And that happened 5 times. I sat there for hours as you spoke of your stepdad’s horrible death. You kept repeating the same phrases, showed me the same photos over and over. I did my best to be empathetic and caring. I cried over the sadness of it. I never once went after you for your substance use, albeit alarming. We all cushion our grief, some ways more healthy than others. And today you had another outburst when I was at work. You wouldn’t get on the plane to Wyoming to visit your dad and step mom. I had asked you so many times before if you thought that you would be okay after witnessing a deliberate death. At least okay enough to visit another state. Last night, inebriated beyond belief, you said you would think about going before you went to the airport. I had a bad day. A hectic day. Details don’t even matter here, cause nothing I say or do really matters to you unless it’s about you. I’m thankful only I can see this. And in the midst of having to pull over in a Walmart parking lot to call back and forth between my insurance company, my primary doctor and various rheumatologists you wound yourself up. You weren’t getting on the plane to Wyoming. And then you were. And weren’t. And it was boarding time. And you got off. I kept telling you I couldn’t get you when I was at work and I had to work late. And you just Ubered to my car, took the keys and waited for me. I dreaded getting into the car with you for hours. Work was horrible. The drive home would be terrible. I knew the shit you would pull. And I tried so fucking hard to be empathetic. I’ve told you numerous times that I’m going through too much, I’m unstable, I can’t be counted on. But you still insist I be whatever you want me to be. You fell asleep instantly when we got home from the mostly silent ride. I kept accidentally speeding cause I wanted to be home so badly. Not so much home, but out of the car. I was also upset cause I was looking forward to being away from you for a few days. Even if it meant you calling and texting me constantly and using our roommate to spy on me. You slept for hours. I started to relax and then got a text from you asking to cuddle. I obliged you, and you began to dig into me. And attack me. Saying I was drunk, I was the problem, im embarrassing and “Erin, you are so annoying to be around.” I said I needed to take a break from this discussion and you got up in my face and again accused me of being drunk and unsupportive. Telling me that you need me right now- that I’m not doing whatever I should be doing. I feel so guilty for not being this supportive person. I can’t imagine the pain. It’s also hard not to get mad at someone who snorts a bag of coke a few minutes before accusing me of being an alcoholic. Not that I’m not, but the problem with accepting my flaws outright is that people like you, with various personality disorders, use my flaws to blame me and bring me down to make yourself feel better.