I'm moving DICK...

A lot has happened since I posted last. It has been almost one year exactly and during that time:
-I had a wonderful Thanksgiving.
-I lived in an apartment free of bugs.
-I have figured out how to avoid my mother's accusations.
-I haven't been harassed as often by the crazy crew.
-I AM ALMOST DONE WITH SCHOOL! Thank you sweet, sweet baby Jesus.

Right now, I am in the process of moving from one apartment to another, where I will be living with my 24 year old brother Brent. NEVER in my life did I think that we would get along, much less choose to live together in almost harmony. How the two of us have even made it to our ripe middle twenties without killing eachother is beyond me. Instead of packing boxes, I decided to blog. I have about 100 different things on my mind, and being alone in this apartment is driving me insane.

My ex is in one of his "save me" modes right now, calling over and over demanding that I pick him up from the most recent drug house he has decided to run off to. Let's rewind. I started dating a guy, (we will call him DICK for the sake of not slandering him too much), in August of 2010. Dick is a drug addict of the worst kind. He likes METH. The first two months we were together, he was clean, long story short, he has been off and on, mainly ON for the remainder of this time. I have kicked him out, taken him back, been angry, been sad... It has been an emotional and destructive rollercoaster for the past 6 months. Ok, so he is calling today. Giving me ultimatems "If you don't come get me, I will slam meth." Sounds pathetic right? Who would fall for that line? In the past, I DID, which is probably why he continues to use it. This time, I am not falling for it. He will use meth, with or without my help. I am not the deciding factor on whether or not he feels like poisoning his body and losing his mind today. It has taken me this long to realize it, but better late than never right?

I am not sure how many of you have had to deal with drug addicts, but it's a miserable time to say the least. They are completely irratic, more often than not they are manipulating and using you and everyone else in their life, and they seem to be angry 90% of the time. Dick is selfish, and the whole world revolves around him and what he wants at the time. He obsesses over things like a small child and if you don't give him his way, he throws tantrums like one too. He refuses to take responsibility for anything, and when faced with a situation where an apology is owed, he would rather eat a steaming pile of horse shit than say "I'm sorry." So, I have somehow been trained to think that the problems are my fault. Not anymore buddy. Reality has finally set in. It's your fault, and no longer my problem.

I am so greatful that my brother is here to smack some sense into me. The last time Dick came begging for a place to stay and someone to help him get sober and check him into rehab, my brother gave him his OWN ultimatem. "This is your last chance. If you use drugs again you aren't allowed back. I don't care what my sister says, it won't be up to her anymore." It's because of that ultimatem that Dick won't be coming back here today. I no longer have the option to make that decision, and it's helpful because I cannot blame MYSELF for not helping him. I can't blame my brother either, because he told him it was his last chance, and he didn't seem to care. So, I guess the blame only has one place to settle. Where it should have been the entire time. On DICK.

It's time to pack up the kitchen now... I have ONE newspaper, and I am not sure how many dishes you can wrap with that. How ghetto is it to wrap your dishes in clothing? I have a lot of those. :)