What a weekend. Not fun, but a lot to chew on. I'd like to think that I at least gave Kara a fun weekend, which is really all I care about. On Friday I cleaned her room, which she actually did notice. Saturday... I don't think we did much. Sunday we went outside and finger painted -I think she had more fun putting paint on all our noses and washing her hands in the bucket that actually painting. After her nap we went to Joe and Mindy's -she played in the sweltering humidity in their dirty (sorry) backyard with JD and little Mikey for hours. Monday morning I took Kara with me to the store, with a quick flower pick-up at Produce Junction -a fun adventure. After nap we did an early picnic table dinner (love, just so much more relaxing than inside, feel luxurious) then played in the water table and ran through the sprinkler.
Found more pills on Sunday morning. This time oxycodones. Journaled about it while resting (so exhausted all weekend), lost one of my diamond earrings that Mommoms had given me while getting ready to shower, cried while Kurt helped me to look for it and then he found the journal page. No talk... "Is there something you want to (talk to me about)?" WTF. "Is the something you want to talk to me about, Kurt? Whatever you want Kurt, whatever you wish." At this point, at least, his little pill addiction has very little to do with me and pales in comparison to the loss of my grandmother. No dipshit, I don't care to beg you to stop doing pills AGAIN and I honestly don't care to hear more lies, bullshitting and crybaby idiocy about your immature, unmotivated issues. BUT, if you want to talk, I will listen, I will lend a supportive encouraging ear. I will not make your addiction my life, I have to much to live for not to mention the huge responsibility of raising an incredible, beautiful, intelligent, loving human.
So this is what he found. And I don't feel sorry about it.
"Found oxcdn this morning! What is going on?!
He's acting really bad, worse. Jibberishing, defensive. My tolerance is low because I'm still not sleeping well. I feel so physically tired, I really worked my ass off on Friday and got a lot done. But I'm paying for it.
The doctor name on the bottle is new. Who is prescribing him this shit for back pain? Who would? What kind of bullshit scam is he into now?
I was feeling nauseous this morning and he was being obnoxious and loud with Kara. -which I mostly let go. Its not good for her, but she has to learn to deal with it and I can't shield her from everything. (At a time when she is mimicing everything, great that her dad's a drug addict :erratic, moody, up & down, loud and rammy, whiny, overly particular in one moment and distracted and clouded the next.)
I've been thinking that her childhood is way too close to mine for comfort, but now, with Kurt and his bottle full of oxys, it just dawned on me that it may be worse.
And me. He's being mean. We're going to a party at Joe & Mindy's when Kara wakes up and I feel it will end up a repeat of Ross' parents' house. Trying to psyche myself up, armor up and be prepared for some sort of emotional abuse. I am strong. He is weak. I can choose."
So he didn't want to talk I guess. He moved the pill bottle into the house (I don't even get the courtesy of a good hiding place) and there were less than half than the morning before.
If you and I break up, whatever the cause or reason, you will not see our daughter unsupervised without a clean drug test. I will let the court know that you have successfully and recently used someone else's urine to pass drug test for work and that you need to have a closely monitored test.
He may have also read these, which I also don't care, not to mention they are good notes. (This was written while we were living with Lorraine.)
And here, for posterity, the oxies. Effin druggie. Poor Kara.
