I came down to Texas to visit a month ago. My ticket was bought by my husband, (were not divorced yet). It was an emergency to try and see if we could both convince our son to go to rehab for a meth addiction. An addiction which began when Rob and my son first moved back to East Texas almost two years ago.
I’d already been told by Rob’s cousin that Van, (a small town 20 min down the road from where he and my son were moving back to) was one big meth house so to speak, which was the reason why she moved her kids out of that town. I could have told Rob this if he had only listened to me. He instead being his narcissistic ass, decided to take on the role of both parents chose to not didnt care no matter I said or warned him about. I hadn’t mattered anymore. Instead I got the full fledged invisible, silent treatment and dismissal treatment.
This is also when I’d had 16 years enough of it, packed up my shit and left at the end of 2015. December 31, 2015 to be exact.
Which brings us to the present. The son that I love to death, the son who had began treating me disrespectfully like shit who also chose to move back with his father and who also chose not to see me off as I packed my small U-Haul up and drove by myself up to Iowa, is now a 10 grade high school drop out is now strongly addicted to Meth.
My therapist tells me that this is not my fault that it turned out like this, but it sure feels like it.