Significant learning experience

How stupid am I? Stupid enough to call the police? Doctors prescribing her white powdered antibiotics in a plastic zip lock bag.  For back pain. Can I really believe that? What choice do I have?

I got straight A’s. They said I needed to be in the gifted school and she wants me to believe this shit?

After all I’ve done for her. All I’ve covered up. All I’ve put up with. All the alcohol. All the pot. All the shit that went on and I took care of things and kept my mouth shut but this is too much.  I’m not this stupid and she knows it. She knows it! She pushing me.

And this is when I learned to push back. I learned a lot of things. How to smoke her cigarettes and her pot.  How to drink her alcohol. When she went all SuperMom and tried to set a curfew? Oh no. I learned I didn’t need to come home at all.

After all those years of being the perfect child, seen and not heard. Doing as I was told, no questions asked, no matter what, that coke was a slap in the face.  I learned, although I didn’t realize it then, that I would never be perfect enough.  I would never have the mom I wanted. Only the one I got.

So how stupid was I going to be? Stupid enough to call the police and turn her in? How much more could I take? What could I do really? What would happen to me, either way?

“Its just for my back, this one time. I promise” she says. And I can be stupid for her one more time. One last time, because of course, everything has changed

Significant learning experience

How stupid am I? Stupid enough to call the police? Doctors prescribing her white powdered antibiotics in a plastic zip lock bag.  For back pain. Can I really believe that? What choice do I have?

I got straight A’s. They said I needed to be in the gifted school and she wants me to believe this shit?

After all I’ve done for her. All I’ve covered up. All I’ve put up with. All the alcohol. All the pot. All the shit that went on and I took care of things and kept my mouth shut but this is too much.  I’m not this stupid and she knows it. She knows it! She pushing me.

And this is when I learned to push back. I learned a lot of things. How to smoke her cigarettes and her pot.  How to drink her alcohol. When she went all SuperMom and tried to set a curfew? Oh no. I learned I didn’t need to come home at all.

After all those years of being the perfect child, seen and not heard. Doing as I was told, no questions asked, no matter what, that coke was a slap in the face.  I learned, although I didn’t realize it then, that I would never be perfect enough.  I would never have the mom I wanted. Only the one I got.

So how stupid was I going to be? Stupid enough to call the police and turn her in? How much more could I take? What could I do really? What would happen to me, either way?

“Its just for my back, this one time. I promise” she says. And I can be stupid for her one more time. One last time, because of course, everything has changed.

The apartment

An ill fitting door.
A bright red cushion atop the futon frame.
The clutter of things everywhere
Art things
Painted things
Clay things
A giant paper mache lizard
A cover to protect the carpet
A half finished paper mache box full of torn news paper
The beginnings of a paper mache bird, caged in an old bird cage hung in the closet
Six binders on the plastic table
Handouts on everything from optimism to anger management
Several books photocopied in their entirety
Two stacks of loose papers full of writings, poems half finished letters
Seven spiral bound notebooks in various stages of use
A six inch stack of post-it notes
A pile of six mini canary yellow legal pads
A giant drawing clipboard stacked against the wall
A box of old paintings
An entertainment center
A barely used Tv
Dusty old Cds
Unused VCR
Monitor
Photo printer
Scanner
A digital camera laid casually next to the speakers and a bottle of window cleaner
Large mouthed frogs full of markers
A stack of boxes, three deep full of ceramics and more to be shipped out across the country
A buffet table covered in newspapers and art supplies
A balance ball and a folding chair
Two digital clock radios, alarms unset for years and years
Two bags of cat litter against the closet door
Two paintings stacked against the hallway wall
An old dentists cart full of even more art supplies
Hand glazed decretive plates next to hand built wind chimes
Three stacks of collages
Several paintings hung on every wall
A box of tissues advertising seroquel on all four sides