I just looked up at the clock: I've been home alone for 2 1/2 hours and it seems like a day. I actually have been able to think, practice for an upcoming fund raiser, and relax.
This incessant stress is very hard on me.
This morning I called home to warn B about the slippery steps and to make sure he was up and running. There was a 2 hour school delay due to icy roads. He mumbled something, then began asking me where the remote and his cassette player were. I had taken them as a consequence for last nights behavior.
I told him that I took them and he began a verbal tongue lashing: "You rotten f*ck ass piece of sh*t! I hope you rot in hell, you are nothing, you have nothing."
For some reason I listened and it did not bother me. I guess I'm used to it.
He then called my workplace and continued his assault.
He also left me 2 nasty messages on my cell phone, which I did not even listen to, I just deleted them. It was obvious what tone they had.
As could be predicted, he called me on my way home and was cordial, asking me for a ride home from the library. Sure, I would pick him up.
When I got there, he was nowhere to be seen. I called his cell, it was off. I went inside, no B there either. I called few more times and sat in my car thinking how trapped I was. If I left, he would call later. I wanted to see him and try and make it better, but, on the other, hand, did not want to go back into town to fetch him.
I tried once more and he answered, telling me he could get a ride home. When I tried to reply, he was gone; no goodbye, no nothing.
At least when I came home there was no pot smoke in the air. He did manage to leave some nasty gangsta rap playing on my computer, complete with bitches, mother-f*ckers and killing. What a weird way to think.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I Hate You, Don't Leave Me--Everyday
It is so hard to find any rest at home. B turned 18 this Sunday and I did my best to bless him and make him feel important. We went out for breakfast and then did some grocery shopping and I got him some nice slippers from LL Bean.
He was completely unable to carry on even the simplest of conversations during breakfast. At the grocery store he vanished to go out and smoke. He showed up after I checked out and tried to butt in in front of the line, but I refused to agree.
He as a bit better at the clothing store and soon we came home. Within a few minutes he had reverted to his usual state of boredom, apathy, and moving around aimlessy. About the only thing he does is eat, lay around, and smoke.
He left in the evening, saying he was going to stay with a friend. I gave him some money and then went to help a friend with a car problem. When I returned home he was there, and the house reaked of cigarette smoke, again.
I only scolded him. Then I found a bag of pills, a joint, a bag of tobacco, papers, a bong made of an apple and became very angry. He will not change. He cannot change right now.
I am not going to back downa and live with this madness.
He spent most of the evening trying to annoy me. He does things like hold his Ipod headphone to my ear while I am on the computer or watching a football game. Of course it is irritating. I have the right to have a peaceful atmosphere in my own home.
I am an unwilling prisoner of his insanity. Now that he is 18 I can force him to move, which I will certainly do. Then I will move away to a place he will not want to be and I can be closer to work and have some rest. As it is, from early morning to late at night, he is acting out.
He was completely unable to carry on even the simplest of conversations during breakfast. At the grocery store he vanished to go out and smoke. He showed up after I checked out and tried to butt in in front of the line, but I refused to agree.
He as a bit better at the clothing store and soon we came home. Within a few minutes he had reverted to his usual state of boredom, apathy, and moving around aimlessy. About the only thing he does is eat, lay around, and smoke.
He left in the evening, saying he was going to stay with a friend. I gave him some money and then went to help a friend with a car problem. When I returned home he was there, and the house reaked of cigarette smoke, again.
I only scolded him. Then I found a bag of pills, a joint, a bag of tobacco, papers, a bong made of an apple and became very angry. He will not change. He cannot change right now.
I am not going to back downa and live with this madness.
He spent most of the evening trying to annoy me. He does things like hold his Ipod headphone to my ear while I am on the computer or watching a football game. Of course it is irritating. I have the right to have a peaceful atmosphere in my own home.
I am an unwilling prisoner of his insanity. Now that he is 18 I can force him to move, which I will certainly do. Then I will move away to a place he will not want to be and I can be closer to work and have some rest. As it is, from early morning to late at night, he is acting out.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Letting Go Of The Past, Yet Needing To Remember It
It is a bit like forgiving, but not really forgetting. You know, sometimes, one of the worst things you can do for somebody is show them unconditional love. Really. I never thought that way before because unconditional love seemed so divine.
Yet some people will take that love and use it as a license to continue to do wrong, yet they still expect the same loving treatment. I see this now, some of my children, the same ones that hate me and think I am a bad man, have been trained in this way. No matter what you do for them or give them, you are still stingy and bad.
My ex used to rant and rave for hours, belittling everyone and cursing them to the depths of despair. She would tell them things such as "you should never have been born, you worthless piece of shit!" over and over and over again, night after night.
Sure, I can find it inside to forgive her, because I have cultivated this virtue and fear not to forgive. Yet I cannot and should not forget. The consequences of this type of verbal and physical abuse will take a lifetime to work out for the children.
I think about the things she said and did to me everyday. It has been 5 years since I divorced her, yet I'm sure these thoughts cross my mind daily. How do you think it is for the children?
For the most part, they seem to recognize that she has some problems, but generally, they choose to forget the past. Once in a while it comes out, but usually they want to love her and have a real mother so badly that they just ignore the past. That's probably a good thing!
This relationship of an abused child and the abusive mother is strange. One moment they are like battling enemies, the next they want her to hold their head on her lap.
Yet some people will take that love and use it as a license to continue to do wrong, yet they still expect the same loving treatment. I see this now, some of my children, the same ones that hate me and think I am a bad man, have been trained in this way. No matter what you do for them or give them, you are still stingy and bad.
My ex used to rant and rave for hours, belittling everyone and cursing them to the depths of despair. She would tell them things such as "you should never have been born, you worthless piece of shit!" over and over and over again, night after night.
Sure, I can find it inside to forgive her, because I have cultivated this virtue and fear not to forgive. Yet I cannot and should not forget. The consequences of this type of verbal and physical abuse will take a lifetime to work out for the children.
I think about the things she said and did to me everyday. It has been 5 years since I divorced her, yet I'm sure these thoughts cross my mind daily. How do you think it is for the children?
For the most part, they seem to recognize that she has some problems, but generally, they choose to forget the past. Once in a while it comes out, but usually they want to love her and have a real mother so badly that they just ignore the past. That's probably a good thing!
This relationship of an abused child and the abusive mother is strange. One moment they are like battling enemies, the next they want her to hold their head on her lap.
Friday, January 15, 2010
BP Anger and Frustration
Wow! All I can say is wow! I almost think B is trying to outperform his mother. She used to have outbursts that lasted for hours and often ended up with everyone in the house crying and begging her to stop screaming. Now B seems to be on the same path.
I came home from a waltz class at around 9 pm. B was camped out in the living room, watching Spiderman. I had earlier told him that I was coming home and wanted to watch the Phoenix Suns basketball game and he should not try to hassle me.
Sure enough, when I arrived, the house reeked of cigarettes and there were several roached in my glass near the TV. Yuck! He proceeded to swear at and curse me for the next hour or so. He threw a glass against his wall, breaking it into pieces, all the while screaming at me about how abusive I was. Mostly I just stood there amazed.
Finally, I got his bed back in his bedroom and was able to sit down and try and relax. He paced around, swearing and accusing me of all kinds of nasty things, mostly parroting what he had heard from his mother, I guess.
His accusations made no sense at all, they were not even relevant. She sure has done a lifetime of damage to our children by endlessly criticising and accusing me. Parents are not supposed to do this, even if they are divorced. Why do they think I divorced her anyway?
He continues his pattern of doing totally obnoxious things and then tries to get me to become physical with him. Sometimes it is hard not to hit him or something, he just goes on and on and on, swearing , cursing, saying the most foul things to and about me.
What was my crime? I made him sleep in his bedroom.
I came home from a waltz class at around 9 pm. B was camped out in the living room, watching Spiderman. I had earlier told him that I was coming home and wanted to watch the Phoenix Suns basketball game and he should not try to hassle me.
Sure enough, when I arrived, the house reeked of cigarettes and there were several roached in my glass near the TV. Yuck! He proceeded to swear at and curse me for the next hour or so. He threw a glass against his wall, breaking it into pieces, all the while screaming at me about how abusive I was. Mostly I just stood there amazed.
Finally, I got his bed back in his bedroom and was able to sit down and try and relax. He paced around, swearing and accusing me of all kinds of nasty things, mostly parroting what he had heard from his mother, I guess.
His accusations made no sense at all, they were not even relevant. She sure has done a lifetime of damage to our children by endlessly criticising and accusing me. Parents are not supposed to do this, even if they are divorced. Why do they think I divorced her anyway?
He continues his pattern of doing totally obnoxious things and then tries to get me to become physical with him. Sometimes it is hard not to hit him or something, he just goes on and on and on, swearing , cursing, saying the most foul things to and about me.
What was my crime? I made him sleep in his bedroom.
Injustice and Getting Set Up
I am quite certain that I am being set up by Ben to appear as if I were an abusive parent. He tries for hours on end to irritate me and get me to react.
He smokes cigarettes in the house, in my car and on the porch, none of which are allowed. When I try to get him to stop he usually gives me the finger, says horrible things and puffs away defiantly.
He smokes pot in the house, in my car and in the garage, which is also not allowed.
He takes my belongings and loses them. My winter coat, my ski gloves, socks, alcohol, CD player, you name it, if he wants it, he takes it. He goes through my room all the time, looking for new things to take. He even took his brother's Christmas present.
Of course I have to confront him. Of course I get angry, he then tells me to hit him.
I don't trust him at all. He lies constantly and when he recalls incidents to his mother or sister or anyone else, for that matter, he is very inaccurate and always focuses the blame on me.
Now he has begun telling me I need couselling, therapy, medication, etc. Talk about projection!
He smokes cigarettes in the house, in my car and on the porch, none of which are allowed. When I try to get him to stop he usually gives me the finger, says horrible things and puffs away defiantly.
He smokes pot in the house, in my car and in the garage, which is also not allowed.
He takes my belongings and loses them. My winter coat, my ski gloves, socks, alcohol, CD player, you name it, if he wants it, he takes it. He goes through my room all the time, looking for new things to take. He even took his brother's Christmas present.
Of course I have to confront him. Of course I get angry, he then tells me to hit him.
I don't trust him at all. He lies constantly and when he recalls incidents to his mother or sister or anyone else, for that matter, he is very inaccurate and always focuses the blame on me.
Now he has begun telling me I need couselling, therapy, medication, etc. Talk about projection!
The Insatiable Demand For Attention
Last night my 17 year old son, B was almost totally incoherent when I tried carrying on a conversation. I had to repeat everything numerous times before he could repeat what I said, and then I'm sure he did not understand what I was saying.
He could only latch onto a word and would focus on that, never mind what was being said. I'm sure he was stoned In fact, when I was to pick him up from basketball he told me he might be able get a ride and he would call. When he did call, he was at the gas station, which made no sense at all.
When I picked him up and asked him why he was at the station, he refused to answer. OK.
He was unable to sit still at home, and it took him 30 minutes to pour soup into a pot and warm it. He could not concentate at all. His eyes were very dilated and he continually babbled.
For the second night in a row he was up until 2 or 3 am. All the lights were left on, the TV was on and there was a mess.
At midnight last night he began knocking on my door to get the remote, which I had taken because he needed to sleep, not watch TV. He harrassed me for a very long time until I opened the door and tried to get him to go to bed. He looked like a crazed man and was physically trying to get past me to get the remote.
When I woke up I found my book, "I Hate You, Don't Leave Me" burned and left on the countertop.
I don't know what else he might have done, but I was afraid during the night and always sleep with a weapon within my grasp. I do not trust him. He is not violent, but people can do weird things when they are out of their minds.
His response this morning about all of this: Dad, you need help.
He could only latch onto a word and would focus on that, never mind what was being said. I'm sure he was stoned In fact, when I was to pick him up from basketball he told me he might be able get a ride and he would call. When he did call, he was at the gas station, which made no sense at all.
When I picked him up and asked him why he was at the station, he refused to answer. OK.
He was unable to sit still at home, and it took him 30 minutes to pour soup into a pot and warm it. He could not concentate at all. His eyes were very dilated and he continually babbled.
For the second night in a row he was up until 2 or 3 am. All the lights were left on, the TV was on and there was a mess.
At midnight last night he began knocking on my door to get the remote, which I had taken because he needed to sleep, not watch TV. He harrassed me for a very long time until I opened the door and tried to get him to go to bed. He looked like a crazed man and was physically trying to get past me to get the remote.
When I woke up I found my book, "I Hate You, Don't Leave Me" burned and left on the countertop.
I don't know what else he might have done, but I was afraid during the night and always sleep with a weapon within my grasp. I do not trust him. He is not violent, but people can do weird things when they are out of their minds.
His response this morning about all of this: Dad, you need help.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Why Are My Sons Like Their Mother and My Girls Like Me?
There must be some reason that my 3 girls are much more like me and at least 3 of my sons are much more like their mother. Maybe this is typical, I don't know.
You would think that a boy would want to emulate his dad, but mine mostly hate me, at least the 3 oldest. The weird thing is that it really makes no difference at all what I do, they still despise me.
A week ago my son asked me for $5, so I gave him $5. His response: "You cheap ass fucking piece of shit!"
Can you imagine? Who says things like this to their own father? After giving him exactly what he asked for.
This sort of thing has happened dozens of times in different ways.
One time I asked my then 21 year old son to empty the dishwasher. We were in the kitchen and I was cleaning up (he never, ever helped or offered). His response: " I feel like smashing your face!"
Anyway, I don't get it. Never in my worst moment did I do any such thing to my father. I think the worst thing I ever said to him was "No." I only did it once.
You would think that a boy would want to emulate his dad, but mine mostly hate me, at least the 3 oldest. The weird thing is that it really makes no difference at all what I do, they still despise me.
A week ago my son asked me for $5, so I gave him $5. His response: "You cheap ass fucking piece of shit!"
Can you imagine? Who says things like this to their own father? After giving him exactly what he asked for.
This sort of thing has happened dozens of times in different ways.
One time I asked my then 21 year old son to empty the dishwasher. We were in the kitchen and I was cleaning up (he never, ever helped or offered). His response: " I feel like smashing your face!"
Anyway, I don't get it. Never in my worst moment did I do any such thing to my father. I think the worst thing I ever said to him was "No." I only did it once.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
What Is The Rabbit Hole?
I don't really know where I got this idea, but it sure seems to work for me. The rabbit hole is, of course, from Alice In Wonderland, where everything is not as it appears. This is the crazy world of BPD, or Borderline Personality Disorder.
Just defining BPD is like entering into a totally confusing realm of contradictions and paradoxes. Sometimes yes is yes, but sometimes it is no and other times it is "help me", yet other times it is masked behind fear and anxiety.
Personally, I have none of the symptoms of this disorder, but I have learned to recognize them well. I have lived with one or more family members who suffers from this disorder for many years.
It has taught me much more than I ever wanted to know. I don't like psychology, I don't like studying human behavior. I like music, art, nature, inventing things, language, travel, making things with my hands, beauty, dance, and making things more efficient. I like things like solar power, wood stoves, acoustic guitars, hiking in Vermont and playing music with friends. I like single malt Scotch and good ales.
The chaos and dysfunction of BPD is as alien to me as a suit and tie. I just don't like it. Yet I am subjected to it every single day of my life.
I know God has taught me many, many lessons I never would have learned otherwise, but I want to graduate from this class now. In many ways it is like having a child with Down Syndrome, you are always on call and can never quite rest; at least that is what I imagine.
It takes a lot of persistence and humility to keep from becoming affected by the family member who is suffering. My rambunctiousness has been tamed, involuntarily. I have been humiliated so many times by the things they have said and done that I don't even try to remember anymore.
I think my faith in God and my music and friends have preserved me.
Just defining BPD is like entering into a totally confusing realm of contradictions and paradoxes. Sometimes yes is yes, but sometimes it is no and other times it is "help me", yet other times it is masked behind fear and anxiety.
Personally, I have none of the symptoms of this disorder, but I have learned to recognize them well. I have lived with one or more family members who suffers from this disorder for many years.
It has taught me much more than I ever wanted to know. I don't like psychology, I don't like studying human behavior. I like music, art, nature, inventing things, language, travel, making things with my hands, beauty, dance, and making things more efficient. I like things like solar power, wood stoves, acoustic guitars, hiking in Vermont and playing music with friends. I like single malt Scotch and good ales.
The chaos and dysfunction of BPD is as alien to me as a suit and tie. I just don't like it. Yet I am subjected to it every single day of my life.
I know God has taught me many, many lessons I never would have learned otherwise, but I want to graduate from this class now. In many ways it is like having a child with Down Syndrome, you are always on call and can never quite rest; at least that is what I imagine.
It takes a lot of persistence and humility to keep from becoming affected by the family member who is suffering. My rambunctiousness has been tamed, involuntarily. I have been humiliated so many times by the things they have said and done that I don't even try to remember anymore.
I think my faith in God and my music and friends have preserved me.
Weirdness and False Accusations
One very strange thing B does is to try and provoke me to get angry with him. Normally I'm a very patient and tolerant person, but, like all human beings, I have my limits and hot buttons.
One night I was trying to watch a movie with my 13 year old son. B kept interrupting and even turned off the TV several times. I told him to stop in a nice way, then a less nice way and so on. Eventually he was in his room making so many goony noises that I got up to tell him to stop. When I got to the door he threw himself down and cried out: "Stop hitting me, stop hitting me!" He did this several times and I just backed away in disbelief.
Now I see him doing similar things, as if he were trying to build a case against me. I think what he really is doing is redirecting the blame or accountability for his failing life on me. In fact, I know that is what he is doing because I hear it all the time. This false abuse accusation stuff is just the material to support his claim.
This is truly a no-win situation for me. I cannot discipline him because he becomes so physical that I react and there it is: Dad's abuse! I cannot ignore his behavior because it is intolerable and he needs help.
I will be very lucky to get out of this one unscathed. My hope is to have him on his own when the weather is warmer and he is 18.
One night I was trying to watch a movie with my 13 year old son. B kept interrupting and even turned off the TV several times. I told him to stop in a nice way, then a less nice way and so on. Eventually he was in his room making so many goony noises that I got up to tell him to stop. When I got to the door he threw himself down and cried out: "Stop hitting me, stop hitting me!" He did this several times and I just backed away in disbelief.
Now I see him doing similar things, as if he were trying to build a case against me. I think what he really is doing is redirecting the blame or accountability for his failing life on me. In fact, I know that is what he is doing because I hear it all the time. This false abuse accusation stuff is just the material to support his claim.
This is truly a no-win situation for me. I cannot discipline him because he becomes so physical that I react and there it is: Dad's abuse! I cannot ignore his behavior because it is intolerable and he needs help.
I will be very lucky to get out of this one unscathed. My hope is to have him on his own when the weather is warmer and he is 18.
Here Is A Typical Day, Yesterday, In Fact
Without digressing to explain what I do plan on explain about the past, this is what happened yesterday with my 17 year old son, B. He is exhibiting nearly identical behavior to that of his mother when she was at her worst. That was about 6 years ago.
Before I left our house for work, our new housemate informed me that he was moving out. He said he couldn't take B any more. You see, the housemate has only lived here one week, and already witnessed the daily dysfunction that B seems determined to produce.
Then, when I got to work, my boss asked me if I had kicked my son's ass yet! This was because the day before, B called my workplace 12 times within 20 minutes to ask me if he could have the password on my computer. I told him no, because he has smoked pot and cigarettes in the house, again.
Later in the day, B called me and had his nice voice installed. He told me all the good things he was going to start doing, how the vice-principal at school had told him he was going to be expelled if he had 5 more cuts. They have done virtual back flips to help him, so far nothing has changed.
In his best optimistic voice he asked me for the password. Seems he had some homework to do research on. We only have one computer. So, I told him and informed him that I expected some results, not just talk.
When I got home from my waltz class at 8:15 I was shocked and dismayed, again. The house reeked of pot and cigarettes. There was food all over the counter, food left out, and his clothes laying around.
I didn't have the heart to bother getting him to take care of it because I didn't want to make it more miserable for the housemate. So, I cleaned it up. Then I found a glass near the TV with 2 roaches and some spit in the bottom; gross!
Later on I tried to do some work on my websites, but he came downstairs in his underwear and began to act really goony, talking like a stupid Chinaman, doing his best to distract me. Why?
I finally gave up and decided to watch TV, which I don't really like to do. He made such a fuss about the volume that I finally just went to bed. It just was not worth fighting over.
How's that for a day of crazy making?
Before I left our house for work, our new housemate informed me that he was moving out. He said he couldn't take B any more. You see, the housemate has only lived here one week, and already witnessed the daily dysfunction that B seems determined to produce.
Then, when I got to work, my boss asked me if I had kicked my son's ass yet! This was because the day before, B called my workplace 12 times within 20 minutes to ask me if he could have the password on my computer. I told him no, because he has smoked pot and cigarettes in the house, again.
Later in the day, B called me and had his nice voice installed. He told me all the good things he was going to start doing, how the vice-principal at school had told him he was going to be expelled if he had 5 more cuts. They have done virtual back flips to help him, so far nothing has changed.
In his best optimistic voice he asked me for the password. Seems he had some homework to do research on. We only have one computer. So, I told him and informed him that I expected some results, not just talk.
When I got home from my waltz class at 8:15 I was shocked and dismayed, again. The house reeked of pot and cigarettes. There was food all over the counter, food left out, and his clothes laying around.
I didn't have the heart to bother getting him to take care of it because I didn't want to make it more miserable for the housemate. So, I cleaned it up. Then I found a glass near the TV with 2 roaches and some spit in the bottom; gross!
Later on I tried to do some work on my websites, but he came downstairs in his underwear and began to act really goony, talking like a stupid Chinaman, doing his best to distract me. Why?
I finally gave up and decided to watch TV, which I don't really like to do. He made such a fuss about the volume that I finally just went to bed. It just was not worth fighting over.
How's that for a day of crazy making?
The Chronicles Of Living With Difficult People
Have you ever found yourself a captive, more or less, in you own home? Unreasonable children, a spouse who seems dedicated to destroying you, or other people close to you that you just cannot escape from?
I have lived like this for the past 10 years, give or take.
Never in my wildest dreams did I envision this happening, but it is my daily reality. For the most part, I am able to live without too much damage, but this certainly comes with a cost.
It has been many years since I enjoyed coming home from work. I am despised, hated, riduculed, mocked, used, neglected, taken totally for granted, and then expected to do more and give more. Totally unfair.
Am I feeling sorry for myself? No, in fact, I rarely even complain or tell anyone about it. I used to be ashamed of their behavior, and still am, but the humiliation is long past. I try to chin up, stay focused, remain in a loving attitude, discover aspects of my own life that need improving, but the cumulative effect is taking it's toll on my psyche.
So, this blog is my place to tell it exactly like it is. If nobody ever reads this, fine. It is good for me to write it down. Only I am 10 years too late.
I have lived like this for the past 10 years, give or take.
Never in my wildest dreams did I envision this happening, but it is my daily reality. For the most part, I am able to live without too much damage, but this certainly comes with a cost.
It has been many years since I enjoyed coming home from work. I am despised, hated, riduculed, mocked, used, neglected, taken totally for granted, and then expected to do more and give more. Totally unfair.
Am I feeling sorry for myself? No, in fact, I rarely even complain or tell anyone about it. I used to be ashamed of their behavior, and still am, but the humiliation is long past. I try to chin up, stay focused, remain in a loving attitude, discover aspects of my own life that need improving, but the cumulative effect is taking it's toll on my psyche.
So, this blog is my place to tell it exactly like it is. If nobody ever reads this, fine. It is good for me to write it down. Only I am 10 years too late.
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