I'm having a not so great day/night, whatever - for me there's only asleep or awake, day and night bleed into one another. My big, old, fat cat Reggie is missing. He's the greatest cat ever, so cuddly and serene. He's just such a loving and grounding force in my life. I don't have very much of that so his loss will be devastating for me. I feel like such an idiot because it makes me cry just to write it down. I just keep thinking of all these reasons why he isn't coming back, that he's okay and will be home soon. But I'm not so sure, he's older and there's fox and fischer cats out here. I'll just be so, so sad if he doesn't come home. It just sucks.
And my two younger brothers came to visit for the weekend. I suppose visit would be to use the term loosely because they wouldn't have bothered if there hadn't been a reason. Just to see me would never be reason enough for anyone in my family. There would have to be drugs or some form of escape from one situation or another. I can't say I'm any different with them. I go to their place for holidays or tragedy only.
The older of the two came up to get buds, he dragged the younger of the two along for company. It was okay for the the evening. We made some food, and s'mores and lit off firecrackers in the field out back. Smoked a bunch, watched a movie, basic stuff. As anyone who stops by here is aware, I am an opiate user, so is my brother, sister, cousins, friends, boyfriend, pretty much everyone in my life. If they're not into opiates (mother, father, older generation) they are pill heads or winos. So my brother shows up wicked high and doesn't want to share what he's got, he won't come off any even for cash. As anyone who uses opiates knows, even if you're trying to be cool, this is a situation which causes tension whether you want it to or not. Unless there is plenty for everyone who wants some - like if everyone present has their own. He finally gave me a little chip but asked me to hide it from the others which just sucks and is hard when everyone is a user - takes one to know one, you know? Now also, this wouldn't have been such an issue if he could have just kept it to himself. He likes to fancy himself discreet, but he's anything but. I think we all like to believe that we handle our shit better than we do. But anyway, it's really obvious when he's using. He just doesn't quit until he's comatose. Everyone knew. But we had our methadone and didn't really say anything.
I woke up this morning and I went into my bathroom. Right away I was like "what the fuck?". There were burn marks on my bath mat from where he had nodded out while sitting on the toilet and must have fallen over so far his hand, holding a lit cigarette, fell to the rug. There were little tea candles all along the sink which he obviously used to cook with, black spoon smudges everywhere, it looked like a heroin paraphernalia bomb went off. Honestly I didn't really care about that, Mikey hadn't seen it and I would have just cleaned it up. I did my thing and went to grab my hat which was sitting on the back of the toilet and as I pulled it towards me I noticed a spoon go flying into the toilet bowl beneath. I knew it was his and my first thought was "oh, fuck, I just threw all his shit in the toilet". But let me just state here, who the hell hides something important like that under a baseball hat on the back of a toilet? Anyone who owns a toilet should know that shit ALWAYS falls off that slippery little cap of porcelain.
So I went out to the living room where my brothers were sitting and I asked, "Uh, man, was that your spoon in there cuz I just flung it in the toilet by accident, I'm really sorry." But I didn't get the reaction I thought. He responded angrily, "thanks a lot, Nellie", all rolling his eyes and shit because our younger brother was there. He's not that young and he's been watching us boot dope for way too long, he's not an idiot. So the older one is all slamming his shit around, yelling at me and then stomps outside. My younger brother told me he already knew and just to ignore him. But I really hate it when people try to take shit out on me when it is their own reckless behavior which got them there to begin with. I wasn't about to pretend that I was the asshole. So I let him sit out there stewing while I put together a new sack of weed to make up for what he lost by leaving the original one sitting on the floor where my dogs proceeded to eat it (he was 100% forewarned about such a possibility). So I was already taking the fall for that mistake, he used up his credit. Then he comes in and says that my younger brother wants to leave. So now I'm just thinking "Fuck them both". So I just laid it out for him, told him to take responsibility for what he does. If you're gonna get high, fine, but don't fuckin pretend you're not. Especially in front of people who have been getting high as much for as long and know you're high. I told him our younger brother already knew and to get a fucking clue. Obviously this did not go over well. After that i threw his sack at him. Aside from an apology from him there was really nothing at that point that would have fixed the morning. Once my feeling are hurt and I'm angry and hungry, there's not much left to do but beg, plead or run. My youngest brother tried to deny that he said he wanted to leave, which is probably partially true.
Things seem so petty when you look at them on paper. I shouldn't have let it upset me. I shouldn't have taken it out on Sam, the youngest. He's almost never to blame for anything, I feel bad about that. I just felt like he was siding with the other one, preferring to appease him rather than lay out the truth which is the way I prefer things to be, out in the open.
I did try to shake it off at first. Once I realized that he hadn't lost anything but a small amount of spoon residue and was mad only because he felt like he had been outed, I laughed because I figured he couldn't possibly be serious. I couldn't believe he thought anyone didn't know what he was doing in the bathroom for hours at a time. Like we didn't notice he was up all night. Which by the way is a habit unique to my brother as far as I know. When he has a lot of H he does it all. He gets as high as he can without dying, waits a little bit and does it again. I like to get to where I'm nauseous, itchy, and nodding and then save the rest until it I can't feel it anymore (not sick, but either when I get home from work or wake up), then repeat. It's like he doesn't even give himself a moment to enjoy being high because he'd rather spend all his energy becoming high. I don't know...he was just so angry at this imagined affront. When things were cool. Mike and I bought all this stuff for breakfast for before they left. I just felt like he slapped us, I don't know why.
I hate how something so small and stupid can turn into this whole big thing. I am as guilty of such a thing as anyone can be. I get to a point where there is just no reasoning with me. Nothing but time can get me out.
6 comments:
My Dear Nellie,
Sorry to hear of your crap day. Sounds like a real bummer.
Love,
SB
Some days are just like that, I guess.
Nellie,
Any sign of Reggie? I totally sympathize. I have a cat I love, too, named Mercer.
You are in my thoughts,
SB
Nellie, I had to put my cat of 15 years down about a month ago. Just last weekend when I was opening a can of tuna, I reached for a small bowl to drain the juice in for her... then I remembered.
RIP Ziggy
Is there anything in your life that does not revolve around drugs? getting high? coming down? scoring?
You have a really, really sad life. There's nothing more pathetic than a whole family of fuck-ups.
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