Damien,
You are a selfish little piece of poo circling around the toilet bowl of life. Your fantastic journey is about at an end though, even with your enabling mother. I know she gave you food. I know she got your car fixed. I know she gave you money. I know she filled your tank. I even know she made sure that you got at least one job application in. I sincerely hope you’re rejected. I can’t possibly imagine how you would be working round other people when you can’t even take a microscopic bit of responsibility for your own actions. You blame grandma, grandpa, your mom, your dad. your other uncle Mike and now me for all of your problems.
I get that you were unleashed on the world without the tools to make sense of it. I get that you have no concept of how to live on your own. I understand that you don’t have any idea how money works and therefore can’t even fathom a bank account, let along paying rent, insurance, food and utilities. You just spend money as you like and don’t keep track of it.
I was having a perfectly good day. My clusters were cruising between 3-5 and I was in the middle of my morning routine. I stopped absolutely everything I was doing to attend to your needs from 1800 miles away because you said that I was your last resort. While I talked to you I ‘found out’ that you were hanging around in Walmart to charge your phone. You were also thinking of stealing some food because you hadn’t eaten in two days. You also said that you didn’t have any friends left or anywhere to go because all of your friends had deserted you. I started searching for soup kitchens in Kenton where you could at least go to get a hot meal. But, you said that from Walmart to each location, you wouldn’t get there in time. You kept insisting on this job thing. I kept telling you that you would never get a job unless you basic needs were met. Then you launched into what had happened with grandma and grandpa and that your mom won’t even help you anymore. I flat out told you that I didn’t care what they said. I don’t take anyone’s word at face value in a conflict. I look for the 3rd conversation because that’s what’s really happening.
You see, while I had no idea that you were on the move, I was frantically searching for a shelter in Kenton or one of the surrounding communities where you could go for food, shelter, etc. At the same time, I was talking to grandma about picking you up and taking you to a shelter since grandpa wasn’t going to let you back in the house. All the while you’re still crying and I’m still calming you down so that you can speak and understand reason. Finally, you tell me that you’re in the parking lot of a complex on the north side of town. I get grandma to agree to pick you and take you to the shelter against grandpa’s wishes. It was a one-time deal and took me a lot of time to broker. All you had to do was stay put and wait. She was on her way to get you. I heard nothing from you or grandma for about 45 minutes.
You finally texted me back about an hour later through Facebook. You said your phone was dying, so I asked how or why you were on FB. Your response, I just remembered a friend’s house I could go to and kick it and recharge my phone. I told you that I hoped that they had food and everything else for you too, but that you had probably missed grandma and that she wouldn’t be coming back. Again, silence until later that night. You left me a cryptic text that I still haven’t figured out, but you made the mistake of geotagging. I knew where you were.
When I asked you about why you stopped talking to me the day before, you told me that you were just depressed and needed someone to talk to. Hysterical and crying to the point to where you can’t be understood is not depressed, it’s a meltdown. I asked you some of the questions I had before. You didn’t want to get social services help because you didn’t want to be stuck on them for the rest of your pathetic little life. You said you were used to a different ‘lifestyle’ but never did tell me what that meant. However, when I brought up the no food, no clothes, no shelter and no job, but you were able to go to the county fair and were texting me from the county fair, you went nuclear. You told me I could go back to talking about you with grandma and grandpa and that I was just like everyone else and I was a fucking fake piece of shit or something to that effect. I spent/wasted two days dealing with you sincerely only to be spat upon. I won’t make that mistake again. You can believe grandma gave me the story, but the truth is that you gave yourself away by geotagging. You’re not as sly or as intelligent as you think you are. Your lies will consume you. You will hit bottom and then the bottom will fall out. Right now, unless I change my mind, my hand will not be there reaching for you. I will not help you up. You had your chance and you slapped me down. There are only a few things I want to say to you.
Fuck you Damien! Fuck you for making me care. Fuck you for making me worry about you. Fuck you for making me concerned. Fuck you for making me put two to three days on hold to deal with your fake drama. Fuck you for raising both my physical and emotional pain levels to a point where it’s going to take a cycle breaker to bring them down because I’m already overextended on my painkillers. Fuck you for making me hurry back from Puerto Rico because I wanted to be there when you were born. Fuck you for all the time I spent with you when you were 13, 15 and 17 planning your escape from Hell. Fuck you for wasting my mother’s time and energy for your selfish foolishness. Finally, Fuck you! I hope when you do hit bottom it’s hard, and once the bottom falls out and you really hit the bottom it’s even harder. I hope there are no hands extended to you because you’ve fucked all of us over. Fuck you!
cazandoconejos 