I may have to run away from home.  Literally.

Leave my house.  Take my stuff.  Go somewhere that is not within easy driving distance.  Why?

To force my son to face himself.  He is 23, lives in my basement, is an alcoholic, works 8-10 hours a week at a car wash, goes to the community college and is spending his college fund on cigarettes, booze, and probably marijuana.  He never has money for gas, seemingly.  He’s been going to the CC for 5 years, and still has not accumulated enough credits for an Associates degree.  This is one SCARY BRIGHT kid.  But like many, did poorly in high school.  At age 17 was diagnosed with “executive function disorder” (that’s in the frontal lobe part of the brain, and means that all the organizational tasks – starting, following through and completing tasks, organization, time management – are all just words to him.  Unless he’s completely fascinated by something nothing gets done.

I’m tired.  I have one child away at college, doing well.  I have one living in my basement, drinking his life away.  His friends seem to find his behavior normal. I have no idea what is going to happen to him.

His father and I were divorced a year ago; we had been separated for 4 years, although in the beginning it was just because of his job. His father is now remarried and living 2,000 miles away.  He refuses to see a problem, and won’t “take” our son in.  Or on.  Refuses to do it. They haven’t been close since our son was little; somehow I think unathletic son was a disappointment to high school/college jock father.

There are concomitant issues, as there usually are.  My son was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety at age 12; hospitalized for a week at age 15. Subsequently seemed to improve, but even he will tell you he drinks to still the anxiety.  I’ve offered counseling, treatment, therapy, what have you – no dice. It’s a standing offer.  But he drinks what I consider to be massive amounts of alcohol – a “glass” of wine for him is a 16 oz. tumbler.  “Beer” is a 6-pack over the course of 2 hours. Never mind the Jack, the Ron Rico, the cheap whiskey.

So, instead of kicking him out of the house – again, because I did it once before; it lasted 4 months – I might have to leave him. Go somewhere else. Never mind that I’ve been here for 20 years, am rooted here. Maybe my son will NEVER grow up, never be the amazing adult I know lurks within.  He’s smart, funny, wry, talented in several ways; but he’s lazy, manipulative, and angry as well.  HOW can that be MY kid??  What have I/we done to him? Or is it something less to do with us, his parents, than with our son himself, something he doesn’t want to deal with?

I don’t know.  I wish I did.