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So. The title is what just happened. Sam's Dad just said that. He said that, and meant it, because the bank fucked up and didn't send him his debit card and now his account is in the hole, and they won't give him his debit card.
And this is all my fault. According to him, anyway.
It is really hard to live with him. He blames me for everything. Well, me and Sam, but mostly me because this was "all her idea, now I can't do a goddamned thing!"
Which, yes, the move was my idea. Sam agreed, but originally, it was all my idea. I wanted out of Ohio and needed to get somewhere that I wasn't close to my family. I wanted out. And so did Sam. Now, because Sam is his dad's POA for health purposes, his dad had to come with us. And now this bullshit.
And I'm just done. I'm done with all this bullshit. I don't want to go back to Ohio, but I don't want to live with Sam or his dad any longer. I want it just to be me and my son. I want it to go back to what it was when I first moved out of Housing, when Son and I lived together just the two of us. I didn't have any issues with keeping my house clean, keeping the cat's pan clean or doing anything else that was required of me.
I'm tired of being blamed for everything that goes wrong around here. I know some of it is my fault. I'm aware. I know my shortcomings, but this is bullshit. He didn't have to come. Originally, I wasn't going to tell Sam and was just going to move, but I do care for Sam and didn't want to leave him high and dry.
But it would have been better if Sam had stayed, or at least gotten another apartment. That way he and his Dad could live together and Son and I could be together.
And here's the thing that gets me. It's all about weed. Sam's dad is so damned concerned about his goddamned weed that he's doing this. Now, if you've been around me ten minutes, you know I have issues with drug use. I have issues with medical use of marijuana. Sure, it works for some people, but I don't want it around me. But he smokes so much damned weed, that he's getting anxious that he won't be able to get any on WEdnesday. Which to me? Good fucking riddance. It stinks to high heaven and I don't want it in my house.
But I have to put up with it, because Sam's dad smokes it and won't quit no matter what happens to him, despite getting the same damned high from edibles. And I'm tired of everything that happens here being my fault. I beggared myself to get here and am starting over from scratch at 45, soon to be 46.
and not a goddamned person appreciates it. Sam doesn't understand, his dad doesn't care as long as he gets his weed. And my son doesn't understand. I just want shit to go right for a little while. But of course it can't.
I'm going to troglodyte.
And this is all my fault. According to him, anyway.
It is really hard to live with him. He blames me for everything. Well, me and Sam, but mostly me because this was "all her idea, now I can't do a goddamned thing!"
Which, yes, the move was my idea. Sam agreed, but originally, it was all my idea. I wanted out of Ohio and needed to get somewhere that I wasn't close to my family. I wanted out. And so did Sam. Now, because Sam is his dad's POA for health purposes, his dad had to come with us. And now this bullshit.
And I'm just done. I'm done with all this bullshit. I don't want to go back to Ohio, but I don't want to live with Sam or his dad any longer. I want it just to be me and my son. I want it to go back to what it was when I first moved out of Housing, when Son and I lived together just the two of us. I didn't have any issues with keeping my house clean, keeping the cat's pan clean or doing anything else that was required of me.
I'm tired of being blamed for everything that goes wrong around here. I know some of it is my fault. I'm aware. I know my shortcomings, but this is bullshit. He didn't have to come. Originally, I wasn't going to tell Sam and was just going to move, but I do care for Sam and didn't want to leave him high and dry.
But it would have been better if Sam had stayed, or at least gotten another apartment. That way he and his Dad could live together and Son and I could be together.
And here's the thing that gets me. It's all about weed. Sam's dad is so damned concerned about his goddamned weed that he's doing this. Now, if you've been around me ten minutes, you know I have issues with drug use. I have issues with medical use of marijuana. Sure, it works for some people, but I don't want it around me. But he smokes so much damned weed, that he's getting anxious that he won't be able to get any on WEdnesday. Which to me? Good fucking riddance. It stinks to high heaven and I don't want it in my house.
But I have to put up with it, because Sam's dad smokes it and won't quit no matter what happens to him, despite getting the same damned high from edibles. And I'm tired of everything that happens here being my fault. I beggared myself to get here and am starting over from scratch at 45, soon to be 46.
and not a goddamned person appreciates it. Sam doesn't understand, his dad doesn't care as long as he gets his weed. And my son doesn't understand. I just want shit to go right for a little while. But of course it can't.
I'm going to troglodyte.