I’m not sure if today got much better.  I went with my dad and brother to eat lunch at Industry, despite my lack of flexibility in my pallet.. I ate something there – and it wasn’t that strange.  Alright, so I ate a baked potato and picked the over priced chicken off of it but who cares, right?

When she came back from house hunting in Austin, she acted like she didn’t treat me like complete shit screaming at me in the middle of our small apartment complex in front of my brother after asking her to stop.  She came right in my house, without knocking and joined me and a friend in my room while we were hanging out.  My friend was about to leave, so she left and she stayed with her friend. At some point her friend brought her 4 year old over and I was trying to get them to leave because I did not want to hang out but they did not get a clue so I turned off the light in my room and walked out, leaving them sitting in the dark.  I started playing a PS2 game as if it didn’t just happen.

My brother and I played a few NES games until we couldn’t get them to work anymore – but I read something today about unlicensed games overheating in NES and it was this unlicensed game that is 143 NES games in one.  It’s nice but doesn’t always work – so then we switched to the PS2 and just like that our video game progressed 15 years.   The difference in the graphics and types of games are insane.  I can’t even imagine what the new ones are like – I can not handle them yet.  My newest system that I use is an original Xbox which was late 2001.

I saw this image on a friend’s facebook page.  I saved it on my computer to remind me.  It’s not that I need a reminder.  I need a spine..

I can’t remember the last time that it was said but one thing that she loves to say to manipulate me is – “You are just as crazy as your mom.”  It is so hard for me to open up to anyone about my mom because, its awkward enough for me to have to hear people react to things, but somehow, one way or another, it is always used against me.  I don’t think that I talk about my mom much.  Most people don’t know much about her.  When people that I went to high school with hear about my brother passing away or about my sister, they get confused and ask questions.  “I thought Brian was your only brother.”  Yeah – well, we didn’t really talk about them much.

I was in 5th grade when my dad decided to move us from New Braunfels to Canyon Lake to get away from my mother.  Before that, she was getting drunk and beating my dad, what felt like weekly, but I can’t say that I really know – I was between 6 and 12 years old.  I remember a lot of it in great detail, but I don’t know if it is because I lived it or because I have heard stories – but I am quite sure that I remember it.  My dad was offered a job by a man in Canyon Lake months prior and he took it.  His new boss was helping him relocate closer to the job but he knew that he had to be strategic with this move.  He found the smallest place possible, so that he knew that my mom and her kids couldn’t possibly follow.  It was a decision that was hard for him and may have haunted him since, but he knew that he had to do it to save us and himself.

The school district was about a year behind the one that we were in so we spent a year relearning the same stuff.  We were smart enough to realize this meant we were now behind and we hated it.  The kids in our new neighborhood were trouble makers and sucked my brother in quickly.  We did what we wanted and took care of ourselves.  My dad paid $14,000 for that lot and trailer.   I can’t imagine such a price tag, but we were poor and as soon as we entered middle school, I knew it.

My mom started showing back up after I graduated high school or as I was finishing it.  I believe there was some sort of child support for her younger two that was to blame for that.  My next memory of her was around 1999 when my grandfather had passed away.  She was never a considerate or compassionate person and we never really got along until I was the only one left that had any sympathy for her.  That day, in ’99, I was in my kitchen and she was at my house for whatever reason.  My grandfather had just died suddenly and she made some smart ass remark.  I don’t know if I raised my first at her or if I just bucked up to her but I was about to punch her in the face.  That is the only moment in my life that I have almost hit someone.  My dad was right there and begged me to stop, at the time, I outweighed her by at least 20 lbs and I had watched her beat my dad my whole life. It was not the moment to mess with me – she looked scared, and then I just walked away back to my room.

I have never actually had a physical altercation with my mother, but I am the only one that hasn’t.  She has tried to fight with my dad nearly my whole life and he has only defended himself, if that.  As we grew up, all of my other siblings have found themselves back under her roof for some reason or another (my father’s roof – she has never had a stable job).  She has ended up in jail after calling the police because she thought Brian was fighting with her.  The police seem to arrest the drunk one, and there she went that time.  They always let her out on a PR bond.  My dad thinks that they don’t want to put up with her.  She has fought my sister countless times, a few when my sister was pregnant.  Stephen.. left early, when he came here to get clean from heroin, but they couldn’t stop fighting so he went back and died within days of returning.

When Stephen died, she started to lose it.  We all started to question life and way too much.  My dad still struggles and feels like he abandoned them back in 1995, but what could he have done?  They ended up in foster care for several years.  The things my sister tells me is hard to even listen to.

By June 30, 2016 – which happened to be 32 years after my parents married and 17 years after my grandfather passed away – my mom was causing more problems.  The cops were called again, mid day and ended up telling my dad to leave “because he had somewhere else to go.”  Which meant he was the one with the car, but he was rightfully upset because it was also his house.  We talked to him on the phone and realized how upset he was – so my brother and I got in the car and headed to his house.  When we entered the house, we could hear my mom’s loud-drunk talking to herself but she had not realized it was us.  I called the police on my way out there so we were just waiting for them.  My brother made me wait outside because we didn’t want her to attack us thinking that we were our dad.  When the police showed up – she started spouting shit off.  I told them I wanted a psych eval on her or whatever they could do because she was a danger to herself and my dad.  She left in an ambulance for her second check now – I took her to the hospital after getting direction from the crisis line the first time only for them to force me to go pick her up the next day.  Same thing happened this time but I wouldn’t take her back to my dad’s house this time.

Every time, they would shoot her full of Ativan and then check her.. she was calm as fuck – of course they said she was fine and released her.  A sedated wild dog is fine too.. So I took matters in my own hands.  I put her at the Motel 6 and paid for it with help from my dad.  That only lasted a few weeks, because at $300 a week, soon, we couldn’t afford that anymore.  I was trying to get her into the woman’s shelter but both counties had some argument to explain why they couldn’t take her.  Eventually, some old friend from grade school that used to live next door to her said she could come live with him – because she lied and said how horrible her life was here.. at this point, I am sure he is very aware.

I have to look her up from time to time to see if she is in jail.  I have randomly checked multiple times after not hearing from her for a while to find out that she is in jail.  I have set up an account so that I can text her in jail. Last time I thought she was going away for a long time because she was told that the next time would be her 3rd strike, but that came and went.  https://www.columbusga.gov/sheriff/Inmates.htm 

There’s a reason I don’t talk about my mom much.  There aren’t many nice things to say about her and her life has turned out to be quite tragic and sad in my eyes.  I wish that I knew what to do for all of these people hurting for deeply around me, but if I watch too long, I just cry myself.