long road

I don't want to turn the TV off and go to bed - I don't want to be alone with my thoughts in the dark. I don't want to have nothing and no one between myself and the realisation that The Oldest spent the weekend drunk or stoned or high and skipping work and killing himself as surely as if his neck were back in the noose, in part because I gave him the money to be drunk or stoned or high.

I know it does no good to continue to wish I'd done otherwise. I know the only difference I can make is to do otherwise in the future. But when things are good for a while. Or when things are not good and I want them to be. Well, it's easy to say yes. 

But then, in the aftermath, I get texts from his father asking if The Oldest is okay because he's cut him off again. I get texts from The Oldest's co-workers hoping he's okay because he hasn't shown up for work. I have conversations with The Little One that he's relieved, to some degree, that The Oldest decided not to go visit him - it's hard having someone visit who you love but don't trust or feel safe with. 

It's time for me to start going to al-anon or similar meetings. It's time for me to get real with myself. I can't keep living with my heart in my mouth every time I hear from him. Or worse, when I don't. I like believing things are getting better. Only that wishful thinking keeps me from seeing the truth. Maybe he'll still end up dead even if I do the work I have to do. But at worst I'll be better able to handle whatever happens.