The Truth, not always Beautiful, but always Right...

I think when you tell the truth, you should always be aware of the fall out, and seldom should someone feel awful about telling it. I guess sometimes I tend to wrap Steve up in cotton wool, because he never seems able to handle the reality of his situation, be it with his unemployment, his brother or other issues he has. At the end of the day, I can't always be there to protect him. I am not his mother. I am just an innocent bystander in a lot of this and I shouldn't be expected to try and play the hero when I can't manage to save myself.

I am tough at heart and I know my own mind, but in this one, I do struggle genuinely. There is the Luke situation which I know I cannot do much more than I have with. I have reported it to Social Services, but what he needs is his big brother to come and help him and Steve wasn't doing that. I needed to speak honestly and he needed to know where he was falling down. How could he have gotten back up when he didn't even understand where he was going wrong. It's hard, but I have a lot to deal with from day to day and I just want him to follow through with something more complex than a turd in the toilet, if you will excuse my crudeness.

Thing is, he is in a funk, which after being told that kind of truth, I do understand. I do. But I really fail to see where settling in to self pity is really going to help resolve the situation. The truth of it is, it WON'T. Been there, done that, got the T-Shirt and trust me, it really didn't get me anywhere. I wasn't suffering any more or less and I certainly didn't feel any better.

OK so some truth about what is happening to me at the moment. I am in constant pain and at the moment, breathing feels as though it is stiff. Like when you don't move your leg for ages, but its down at the bottom of my ribs and it hurts like mad all the time. I don't get much sleep unless I am drugged up on pain killers so I can breathe or taking a sleeping tablet just so I can switch off and forget the troubles of the day. I deal with a lot all at once and I forget to look after myself. But how can one be expected to look after themselves while looking after a 30 year old with the mental age of a 9 year old at times?

I think things do need to change and I know that the change has to come from him, and not me.

Loves
Wendy xx