I read a story about how Narcotics Anonymous encourage you to go around apologising to the people you have wronged – a great story that made me sit back and think of my own beloved arsehole.
I’m not with him any more, and probably won’t be again, because kids and drugs don’t mix well. I love him sincerely, but it’s hard to recount all the fucked up things he has done to me, and probably to hundreds of other people. I am not wanting sympathy, but to help you get a grip on what you might be doing to the people you love, but you don’t want to be held emotionally accountable because you are using.
Respect and responsibility
Part of respect is accountability, so for anyone to get respect, they have to earn it. If you are not getting respect, perhaps it’s because of what you are doing, and how you treat the people around you.
The worst thing he has ever done, is told me “I love you”, because he didn’t love me enough to stop. The best thing he has ever done was give me our son. What can you imagine would be the worst thing an arsehole could do to his missus? You got it, hold the kid for ransom and literally hold a seige in public — no less with hundreds of witnesses — for junk.
Screaming like a banshee “GIVE IT TO ME”, like a demented loon and raging way out of control, all the while holding my precious lil’ baby with one hand in a vice-like grip, leaving bruises down his back, my handbag tipped out on the street while he goes through it for money or drugs or both or anything.
Of course in his infantile mind I am the bad guy, go figure. I not only called the jacks, I tried to get him committed. There is no way my beloved arsehole would ever hurt our baby if he was in his right mind. You can lead a user to freedom, but he won’t take away the bars. He only sees the need and the person stopping him from getting junk and you become the enemy. If I have money, he wants it and it is no good until it is all gone.
Hostage for heroin
In his time he has really hurt me; broken my ribs, broken my nose, had me on the floor and kicked the fuckery out of me with his boots on. That is why him grabbing our baby as a hostage for junk means No More – because I am the one who stands between him and his fix. I am the one who says no. I am the one who says enough. And unfortunately I am the one who wears the rage and the anger and the abuse. I can’t choose to have our baby stand with me.
So when you are about to lose it, remember that the person you are most likely to lose it with is the person who loves you the most, the one who wants more for you than you can imagine, the one who puts their life on the line to save your arse from pain and hurt and humiliation and jail and maybe even death. You are likely to hurt that person, and a hundred others out there, who know exactly what it takes to say No, to say fair’s fair, enough’s enough.
We don’t turn off the love — that never goes away — we just have to do what you would do if you were in your right mind. I know my beloved arsehole loves our baby with all his heart — even if we are fighting — I take on the responsibility of keeping our son safe from him for his sake, because he is not strong enough to do it himself. I am the horrible missus who won’t let the person I love most see his baby.
Think of me
Whatever it cost you, it cost me more. Next time you are about to lose it, think of me. I am your wife or your mother or your sister or your brother, and my blood bleeds as red as yours does, and my pain is as deep. If you think you feel bad because you’re shitting your pants and puking, just remember me, rocking our baby through the night and going to bed alone to cry myself to sleep once more. Happy Father’s Day, Arsehole. I do love you more than you will ever know. - A.L.B.
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