other rant, another day.

I guess dear diary is my therapist when I need to get thing off my chest.  I just need a cleansing stream of consciousness entry.  Cleanse my mind and my burdened being.  I feel so heavy.  It just grows and grows.  I think I get stronger some days, but it is  only because I am having more and more shit piled on.  The counselor thinks it is focusing on the bad to delete my countdown- maybe it is.  I am the one seeking help, not her.  She is the one with the degree, not me.  But on days like today, I would love to see the number of days left until I am done.  But I guess even still I will never know exactly how  long that is.  Is it when he turns 18?  When he graduates from college?  Next week, month?  Who knows.  Clay is the wild card that keeps our family unstable, unpredictable, and dangerously precarious.  There is no regard for rules, no respect of authority.  Not one bit of giving a shit about anything I ask him to do.  Clay, please turn off the tv when doing homework.  He says ok.  And then the tv stays on.  Clay, please turn down the tv (when it is blaring), he turns it down one notch.  Clay, your bedtime is 9, he doesn’t care when we come home at 9 30 and he is still up.  Whatever.  It doesn’t matter.  I have no control of my own house.  I have enough trouble trying to keep a stable environment for the younger kids, let alone for myself.  I miss living in a bubble.   Naviety is what it was really.  Not knowing what it is like to have children, to require a schedule, be someone constantly dependable, constantly on call.  And then to have a step child with psychiatric issues who doesn’t give a fuck what you say and purposely breaks the rules just simply to piss me off.

And I tell myself, well at least he isn’t planning on killing someone this time.  At least he isn’t getting put away again. But I see that seething anger underneath it all.  The slowly increasing boil that is about to overflow out of control.   And then I wish it was more obvious, that he would get out until he made the decision to be a better person.  To go the ways of his sisters and live in a mental home.  Just be done with it already.  Stop fucking up my life, and my family’s lives so that you can just be miserable anyway.

I have been blessed with the most amazing husband I could imagine, 2 small children who are my world.  And overshadowing this fairytale life, is this chaos.  I am tired of him yelling at my 5 year old.  Trying to control him both physically and verbally.  I am amazed that my one year old already knows how to tell him no, and stop- to tell him to leave her alone because he is hurting her or frustrating her on purpose.

He loves to piss people off and make them mad.

how am I supposed to support and defend my my family against someone who is supposed to be my family?

How am I supposed to not react, and yet discipline and guide?

How do you help someone who doesn’t want help, who likes being miserable and making everyone else miserable?

It’s been almost 4 years since I have known him.  Only 1.2 more before he turns 18- 2.5 before he gradates h.s.

Can I make it?  Time will tell.