I don't even know where to begin. I've been trying to set and keep boundaries with Josh. Sometimes I do well. Today, not so well.
He called my husband last night at 11:30 pm, using someone else's phone because we had him blocked. He just called to rant, and that's what he did until he hung up 15 minutes later.
Today, I texted him and called him. Reiterated the ground rules about verbal abuse and profanity and how any contact with us requires respect. In one of his text message responses, he said something about how he thought he might have kicked in the door of where he was living last night and something about a burglary charge. I immediately picked up the phone and called. We went round and round, and he finally said he thought he got mad and kicked the door and "someone was investigating" . I couldn't get much more than that. So he's on the street. I begged him and begged him to "take a break" from Denver and just come here with us, just to have a place to live, food, and the ability to save some money. I mean I literally begged him. He wants money for a down payment and first month's rent. I told him we can't do that; that we can only offer him a place to stay. More abuse, more refusal from him.
I go back and forth between anger, anxiety and fear, and hopeless grief. I'm at work right now, trying to hold it together, trying to do my job, and at the same time, I feel like I'm falling apart inside. At moments, I hate him. In fact, in our conversation, he said, "I wish you had left me alone 29 years ago," and I said, "I wish we had too." I never thought I would say that out loud to him, but I did I' afraid. I feel so overwhelmed with all these emotions right now. I wish this would either end or that I would.
He called my husband last night at 11:30 pm, using someone else's phone because we had him blocked. He just called to rant, and that's what he did until he hung up 15 minutes later.
Today, I texted him and called him. Reiterated the ground rules about verbal abuse and profanity and how any contact with us requires respect. In one of his text message responses, he said something about how he thought he might have kicked in the door of where he was living last night and something about a burglary charge. I immediately picked up the phone and called. We went round and round, and he finally said he thought he got mad and kicked the door and "someone was investigating" . I couldn't get much more than that. So he's on the street. I begged him and begged him to "take a break" from Denver and just come here with us, just to have a place to live, food, and the ability to save some money. I mean I literally begged him. He wants money for a down payment and first month's rent. I told him we can't do that; that we can only offer him a place to stay. More abuse, more refusal from him.
I go back and forth between anger, anxiety and fear, and hopeless grief. I'm at work right now, trying to hold it together, trying to do my job, and at the same time, I feel like I'm falling apart inside. At moments, I hate him. In fact, in our conversation, he said, "I wish you had left me alone 29 years ago," and I said, "I wish we had too." I never thought I would say that out loud to him, but I did I' afraid. I feel so overwhelmed with all these emotions right now. I wish this would either end or that I would.