Last week, I wrapped up my highest mileage week ever — 49.3 miles. Don’t question for one minute that the last 7 tenths of a mile is bugging me. If I had’t had an important phone call to take after my run, I would’ve done that last bit and evened out all the imbalances in my life.
It’s good that running is in my life because it’s helping me deal with my squirrelly-ness. I almost never get bored, but I am feeling very restless and, yes, bored. Or rather like I cannot concentrate on anything. Plus, we’re having serious issues with my 18 year old.
My son came home from college a week ago, and it’s uneasy having him here. I found out yesterday he basically failed his first semester of school and lost his scholarship. The icing is that he didn’t even bother to show up for one of his finals. I suspect a hangover of some sort. I won’t even go into the ream of lies he’s tried to tell my husband and I as excuses. He changes his story from one breath to the next. They aren’t even good lies.
The past year or so he’s changed a lot, and not for he better in my opinion. I know much of it is growing pains, but much of it involves too much partying. It’s stressful having him here because last summer he brought pot into my house, and as a sober alcoholic, I cannot have that shit near me. I never tried pot, but in early recovery, it suddenly started seeming like a great alternative. “It’s not addictive like alcohol,” my addict brain told me. Funny, that’s one of the things my son keeps trying to tell me, adding that I am overreacting.
But even more than that, I think it’s disrespectful for him to bring crap like that into my home. I can’t keep him from experimenting in college, but I sure as hell don’t have to support it. We made sure he has a dorm and a generous meal plan, but no spending money. He abused a credit card we gave him last year and stole money from us to buy drugs. He did a bunch of shit as a high school senior that I never would’ve dreamed he’d do a year prior. He disrespected his grandmother’s vacation house by letting his drug dealer friend use it to cook hash when she was away. They left the place trashed. My husband and I found out after the fact because he hadn’t told us that was where he was going when he went out with friends. He adores his grandmother, so this flabbergasts me. It’s one thing to be horrible to your parents as your rebellion. It’s another to take advantage of someone who has never once yelled at you or let you down.
We suspended his car use and took away the credit card. Then we sent him off to college, warning him that he’d better perform or we wouldn’t continue to pay his way. He acted like we were insulting him by even saying that — despite that his study habits had sucked his senior year.
Unfortunately, my not-so-swell parents gave him money and have been inviting him out to dinner (he goes to school in their city). I hate this. They are not good people. But I can’t tell him not to see them despite that I think it’s a terrible idea. I’m half tempted to email my father and tell him just what their grandson is doing with the money they gave him, but that seems wrong in many ways. I can’t control the situation and I will only make myself sick trying.
My husband and I can’t see it making any sense sending him back for another semester for a repeat performance. Not that our son didn’t beg and cry it would be different this time. He already sang that tune. We have told him he needs to get a job and go to community college if he wants to live at home. Or he can move out if he doesn’t like our stipulations. But I’m not so sure I want him here. I had horrible nightmares last night about him bringing all sorts of evil into my house. I don’t trust him to leave him alone in the house. This is no way to live.
I don’t know how to fix this, only that I’ve failed. I don’t want my son to continue to piss his life away. I don’t understand why he is.
The shit has hit the fan. And so I run.