Moving and meth

New landlord Steve called tonight to tell me it's ours. Woo hoo!

Immediately after the rush of "woohooness", I had the "oh boy is this the right choice?" This is something that happens to me EVERY time I settle on a new place. Each and every time, so I'm trying not to let it consume me. I'm relieved to be done searching, hoping it will all work out, and looking for all the bright sides to bask in whenever I sense the doubts I always have about moving crowding in to lessen my joy.

I've had a pretty suck ass day so this is really welcome good news.

Suck ass? Why? you might innocently ask. Well any day with a doctor's appointment in it is sucky by definition. Then there was another call from my mother. Fortunately, I didn't pick up. I thought "Oh look, a 617 number I don't recognize....it seems strangely familiar though, maybe I should answer it?" Then I remembered she's called once a week for the past two weeks and I let it go to voicemail.

I have now programmed the number so I'll know it's her and not risk picking up. She is listed under "Douchebag".

Mere seconds after I had listened to some of Douchebag's message (I'll play the rest in my shrink's office), the phone rang again. This time it was my parents' house phone. I let it go to voicemail, thinking it was my mother again. Turns out it wasn't. It was a tearful call from my brother who did meth again and who broke up or was broken up with again. He was speaking of life and the relationship with the same pronouns with no distinctions between them "It's over. It's really over this time. There's nothing left..."

All of this was while I was on the way to the doctor's office. Usually I am more worried and sad for my brother. Today, my very first reaction was anger.

Also, I think I caught "the stomach thing" my advisor and half my lab have had. Either that or tag team mom and brother are giving me a hell of an ulcer. I have felt like total ASS all day.

Home after the doctor's appointment - still feeling horrible, but I managed to finish the midterm for my class. I don't think it's too bad although I suspect that it might have benefited from a less foggy and sick head. A___ looked it over for me and helped correct the stupid mistakes. While I was working on it, a student wrote to me to tell me that she's been kinda sick and wants to reschedule the midterm. Oh this was just so not the night for that. I mean, I am empathetic but just tonight....not tonight. I told her the makeup exam would include an oral or essay section.

As I was finishing up the exam, formatting it so it's not confusing or riddled with mistakes, my brother started text messaging me. Last we talked, I thought he was going to the hospital. See, meth makes you fucking psychotic when you come down and he's already on antipsychotics. So when he comes down, he usually needs restraints.

Nope. Not at the hospital. At home, alone, freaking out. I'm stuck over 2 hours away and I want to help but I want this to stop, for me but mostly for him.

I really am tired of this - it's not that I don't want him to contact me. What I'm tired of is him not taking care of himself. I told him when we talked that he needs to keep fighting this, and that sometimes it's hard but that doesn't mean you've stopped fighting, that fucking up sometimes is part of it - providing you take care of yourself. God it's so hard to help from down here. I remind myself it's not much easier to help when he's local either. But I can't help feeling if I were closer I might be more help - maybe not at these acute times but on other occasions which could help avoid the crisis at all. At least some times.

Last night, whenever I asked him what he was doing NOW, he would start talking about where he could (and couldn't) live, what his options were (and weren't) for longer term stuff. He couldn't or wouldn't talk about NOW, tonight, about making a plan so he would be safe just for now....and, to be perfectly blunt, so he wouldn't do anything really fucking stupid. Which he does when he's on or coming off meth.

It's frustrating that he doesn't think he's worth taking care of, and that goes for when he's fucked up or sober. That is the biggest thing that I see needs changing. And yeah, when you do the shuttle from bus station to ER, when you get 2 AM crazy fuck text messages from your sketchy brother, and when this is not as rare as it should be (say like never) you've sort of earned the right to at least voice some comments on what needs changing in that life.