Yikes, me again, typing at my therapy/internet appointment.
There is something that keeps "playing" over and over and over in my head.
My brother is dead from the drug life.
I remember once he was sober; he stopped home for a visit, was saying bye to go out and said to my mother"If I ever do this drug again I will make sure I do enough to kill myself because I hate this way of life"
He never had to do that because he was murdered.
Fast forward my own son, who has filled my head with enough sick stuff and lies that it has damaged me.
Once, and I cant even remember when but I see it right now as I type, he was on his way up the stairs and said "I don't plan on living much longer anyway"
I really believed he'd be dead by now. My brother died at 33 and my son is now 34 and my head is on reruns.
It just occurred to me, that some of the stories he tells me, are really truth about himself. He doesn't talk in the third person but he tells me stories of "others" when really its him and he knows I'd figure it out but why? I beg him to go to rehab all the time but why does he tell me things, why does he want me to know?
Warm regards today to you all, Barbara
