I can’t seem to pinpoint this constant anxiousness that has returned. I had been doing so good, for so long. Yet, suddenly I’m filled with the misery I use to feel 24/7. My chest feels like it physically hurts. I don’t understand it. I don’t like it. When I think about it. Hard. I feel like it’s guilt. Guilt for being a shitty parent over the years. Guilt for making choices I shouldn’t of. Guilt for turning my kid into the police. Guilt for not being good enough basically. It’s raw & it’s eating at me. Horribly.
Z has been giving me hell. Pure. Absolute. Hell. He hates me. Hates me rules. Hates my house. Hates my kids. Hates his life. Hates school. Hates work. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate is probably one of the better words in these conversations. Most have been horrible. Totally inappropriate language for a 16 year old child. But, hey, he can do whatever he wants. Right?
I have no control. Maybe that’s the anxiety. I’m on a roller coaster that I feel I have zero control on. And I hate it.
We’ve been fighting over the vaping. Every time I turn around he’s vaping. I truly believe in gateway drugs. I truly believe vapes are bad for you. He’s ruining his life. He’s 16 & addicted to nicotine. From a former smoker – I know how bad this shit is. I know how hard this is to kick in adulthood. I want better for my child than I gave myself. So, I keep taking the shit away. Just to find a new one. Saturday was the last straw – He had a $170 modified vape in his room. Seriously. When I took it he went ballistic. Locked me in his room. Fought me for it. Horrible. All I could think was – he’s only 16, it’s too early for this shit, he can’t think it’s okay to treat women or ANYONE like this, it’s not okay, you don’t corner people in rooms when you’re mad. His anger was horrible. He broke the frame on the door. He was possessed. It’s slowly been leading up to this point & boom – now it’s gone so far I can’t fix it. I asked my law enforcement friend what happens if I call – after telling him the story as it’s happening he tells me it’s time – they need to come.
In the end he simply got cited with a possession of tobacco. A lecture on the other charges he could have faced. Really. Nothing. Some community service. A fine. Just a waste of money. It’s not fixing anything. This is where I feel guilty – I think of the better things that could have been bought with that money. Then I remind myself that he was only buying nicotine with his money anyways, so it doesn’t matter. Yet, I feel so guilty.
Why do I go so easy on him? Why do I feel like it’s my fault? He screwed up. HE DID. Yet, I somehow feel like I did. I struggle to push the punishments. I struggle to stick with the consequences. I just feel like a failure I guess. I know he can’t be doing that & then in the same breath, I don’t think I did the right thing. It’s driving me insane. Why is parenting so hard?
Maybe if I’d of done things differently my child wouldn’t be the douchebag he is today.
Maybe if I’d of never allowed my husband to treat me the way he does my child wouldn’t have ever thought it was acceptable to begin with.
Maybe if I was stronger he’d be stronger.
Maybe if I’d of disciplined him more when he was little he’d follow the rules now.
Maybe if I’d of made different choices over the last 16 years he wouldn’t be so f’ing screwed up now.
Somehow. Someway. I just feel like I should blame myself.
Of course, I have no support. My idiotic husband is “moving out” simply because I couldn’t be quiet. When he was bitching about it all I could do was simply look at him & say “It’s half your fault. You’ve taught him it’s okay to treat people like this, to have uncontrolled anger, to have no respect, to use substances. The other half is my own fault for allowing you to act like that for all these years.” The truth hurts – But it’s how I feel. Now he’s ignoring me – giving me the silent treatment – being his typical narcissist self knowing that it drives me crazy. I can’t even say I care. I wish I had SOME support. I don’t care if it’s him. Someone. Anyone. I just feel so damn alone in all of this. It’s emotionally exhausting.
I also wish I could afford my life myself. Someday. But not today. He’ll never leave. He just likes to make me feel horrible. To be scared. To worry about how I’ll pay the mortgage myself. When it’s all said & done he’s always still here. Never leaving. He did say he was canceling the money that goes to my checking account Friday. Guess we’ll see Friday. He’s never done it before – But I have no doubts he will eventually if he doesn’t feel he’s getting to me enough. If he can’t see me crack, he’ll do whatever he needs to do.