this chapter is available as a free audiobook on YouTube: Lunatics
Please hold. Your life will now be put on hold why we focus all available light on this one spinning young man. The splinters in our fingers are infected. Maybe giving him some space, we hope, is just the ticket to get it to work. But this morning, even that damaged concept slipped beneath the bloody truth of the lies he’s been feeding his mom, his stepdad, and me.
It’s NOT WORKING.
You made a pig’s ear, you made a mistake
Paid off security, and got through the gate
You got away with it but we lie in wait
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait
Where’s the truth? What’s the use?
I’m hanging around lost and found
And when you’re here, innocent
Fat chance, no plan
No regard for human life
Keep trying, you’re not right
You’re fast to lose, you will lose
You jumped the queue, go back again
The Daily Mail – Radiohead
I cannot take matters into my own hands. This is time to gather our resources and make a plan. I had a moment, an hour ago, when I got the answer. Then I called his stepdad. More secrets were broken. The triangulation is over.
Right on queue, minutes ago, I get into a fight with my girlfriend for being short with a pool supply salesperson who put me on speakerphone. I’m the BIG DICK. (all caps) Nice.
I tell her, “I can only deal with one crisis at a time. Deal with it. Big cock, over and out.”
Why, can she of all people not understand that I need her to take care of her own issues and shit. The pool has been a weeks-long project, and she’s disappointed that I haven’t just “taken care of it.” In a conversation about a related disappointment she revealed, “This reminds me of my marriage where my husband would never take responsibility for fixing anything.”
Last night, in her pool, now clean and needing some closer chemical management, I explained how her disappointment in me triggering emotional debris from her marriage, now six years done, might be an indication of something a bit bigger than me being short with a salesperson who was asking too many questions. “I don’t know the answer. That’s why we’ve come to you, the pool experts.” And the pool lady hung up on me and my girlfriend sent me more angry and attacking texts.
What the actual fuck? When the world begins to tilt in the wrong direction everyone seems to go into crisis. Well, here we are. Do I think it’s affecting me? In the memorable text response from my son, “LMAO.”
He hasn’t laughed at anything but anxious and sarcastic jokes in two years. There is no laughter in addiction. No joy in the fight and flight of his situation. The lies are spiraling in on him. And today, the day before Father’s Day, I understood the only path.
I had the idea for a Father’s Day party tomorrow that he is expected to attend. Make it 6 pm to be on the safe side. And BOOM. Of course, the reality is more complicated and involves more people than just me and my son. (LMAO)
But here’s the emotion pouring out of me right now: he doesn’t need to die, or get shot, or shoot someone, or overdose on fake benzos. We have to take even more direct action. We have seen them on TV. But, that’s not how it goes. And 99% of the time people don’t have an intervention specialist.
In some questions from his stepdad this morning, it was also clear that my ex-wife has been shielding him from the full truth of the crisis. The practical approach is to complete the TA team’s assessment, “should see some results next week,” while getting resources aligned to do a formal intervention.
But what if he refuses and leaves,” his step-dad asked.
“It will be without a car, without a phone, and with no money.”
If you believe in symbolism and milestones, tomorrow is Father’s Day, 2024, and we’ve officially been on crisis alert for over two years. Last year, my girlfriend and daughter surprised me with a “daughter home from school, Father’s Day present.” My son was one hour late to Father’s Day last year. It was planned for 6 pm.
Tomorrow is going to be different than I would wish, but a phone call just now to “the mountain,” got a voicemail. There is no way of knowing if they even have a bed. So, this Father’s Day needs to be peaceful and optional. I’ll let my daughter set the time and place, like last year.
Maybe next year on Father’s Day, we can celebrate my son as well.
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