{WARNING: this is angry and rambling and I'm not altogether certain that it will make any sense. I do need to get it out, however, nevertheless. So bear with me.}
Here's the thing.
I try not to let things regarding MJ to get to me, really I don't. After all, I can't change them, or him for that matter, so why bother? And I try to see it that way, I really do. But every now and again it just...just GETS to me!
Things like:
* He doesn't wash (either clothes or himself). He doesn't work. He doesn't have the WILL to do anything other than eat, sleep and watch television.
* Because of being on benefits, all prescription costs and medication costs (including glasses and dental work) are completely free. I on the other hand have to pay between £16-£20 just to SEE the dentist, or optician, let alone if I need any treatment. The pair of glasses that I am wearing now cost me near-upon £250. The time before that I saved a bit because I was able to keep the same frames, but I still paid £189 simply for the lenses.
* He receives £154.90 every fortnight for doing NOTHING. Until very recently out of this he had to fork out a grand total of £25 per fortnight. Now the benefit system has changed he has to pay a lot more: £120. That still leaves, however, £34 per fortnight to buy food and so forth. Divide by two and you are talking £17 per week. Not a lot, I know, but it is for ONE person. ONE. There may not be a lot left over, or indeed any left over, for treats and so forth, but it's manageable. DO-ABLE. So does he manage it? Does he do it? Does he heck! He has NEVER budgeted, EVER. He ALWAYS runs out of money - and always has done so, even when his only bills were £25 a fortnight and he had a full £129 just to himself to spend on whatever he wanted - within a few days of receiving it; it doesn't even last a week, let alone the two! And it's FREE money. He hasn't earned it; he doesn't even have to deal with the job-centre to get it, because it goes through the doctors (it being 'Incapacity Benefit' rather than Job Seekers Allowance).
* Leading neatly on from the last point; to make up the deficiency he always has because of not budgeting and running out of money up to nine days early, mother tops it back up again, buying him food drink and even cigarettes.
We spend an average of £45 per week on our main weekly shop. Because of MJ, she also spends a quarter or so of that AGAIN on top of it just on him. Every week!
In a fit of (possibly hormone induced) moral outrage, I worked it out:
- Cigarettes (one pack per week) = £4.00
- Fizzy Pop (he always takes at least two of ours, usually without asking) = £1.00
- Bread (on average one loaf worth per week) = £1.00
- Crispy Pancakes (two packets) = £2.00
- Cheese (two 250g packets per week) = £.4.00
- Other (he occasionally walks off with toilet rolls, toothpaste etc) = £1.00
So! That is a grand total of £13 per week, every week, that mother spends on him. And yes, I can hear my reader saying; it IS her money. And yes, she CAN do whatever she wants with it. And yes, doing this helps to ease her conscience over having to turf him out when his mood swings and drug use caused him to become too violent, and also makes him visit so she is reassured that he is still alive and his life - such as it is - is still going as it should be. I know all this, and I tell myself this over and over again, but on days like today when I am feeling as I am it still infuriates me that it should be this way.
And one of the reasons that it infuriates me so is the WAY it happens. For one thing, we can't stockpile any of the things that he eats; taking advantage of offers and so forth, because of the way his brain works. He doesn't see, say, TWO blocks of cheese and think; 'oh, here are two blocks of cheese. That means that ONE of them is for today's visit and the OTHER one must be for my second visit, later in the week'. Nope, he just thinks 'ooh, extra cheese! Whee!', and he eats them both, all at once. Which wouldn't be so bad, except that because, again, of the way his brain works, he will STILL expect to receive another block of cheese on his next visit. Which leads neatly into the other thing. The way in which he RECEIVES these gifts.
Because he isn't grateful, you see - or at least very rarely - for this help. Nope. He seems to feel entitled to it; as though it is somehow his due, something that we SHOULD be doing, rather than a nice thing that we are doing out of the kindness of our hearts. So much so that if something is missing or different to the norm, his reaction isn't so much disappointment as mild annoyance. Take the double cheese on one day analogy for example. On Saturday he would find and eat two blocks of cheese rather than saving one (which mother, or I, would have brought because it was on offer and saved us money buying two at once rather than one two on two separate days) for Tuesday. Then on Tuesday, the following scene would ensue.
"...Oh..." he'll say, as he routs through our - OUR - cupboards to see what is there; "...no cheese then?"
And his voice will be a mixture of jokey, disappointed, and actually annoyed. He is ANNOYED that we didn't spend the extra money all over again and buy him even more.
Of course, there is always the fact that we could have a 'once it's gone, that's it' policy. We should do it like that. Just as we should hit the roof that he takes anything that he fancies that isn't tied down without asking - including any money that he can find - like our toilet rolls and pop and vinegar and...oh, lots of silly things that sound as though they shouldn't matter, but they do.
We should put our foot down about this, and other things as well, but we don't. Because mother doesn't want to. Because mother wants him to be happy and him being happy - or at least not UNhappy - makes HER happy. So she bends over backwards to not do anything that would cause any confrontation or bad feeling, and she asks, neigh, BEGS me to do the same. Which for the most part, I do. Because I want her to be happy. So I put up with her - and often me - being inconvenienced so that he is happy. Because that makes HER happy.
What else can I do?? I make occasional stands and they occasionally - but not always - have an effect, but that effect is temporary; before long things slide back to how they were before and muddle along until I have had my fill and begin seething again.
It's not a healthy way to be. I know that. And as I said, most of the time I let it just roll over me. 'Let the two of them do as they will', I say to myself blithely. But every now again, something will happen and it will just GET to me. Like today. Food and necessities are going up in price alarmingly; enough that we are having to consider cutting back drastically by the end of the month. But not HIS stuff, obviously. The ungrateful scrounging shit mustn't be hurt by the recession; oh no. It'll just be us, the two hard working tax payers, that have to go without.
Anyway, that's set me off. And that, along with a *reminder* text from him to get his cigarettes this morning, means that I am at screaming point.
So now I am going out to see Best Friend 1 and Squidgum and leave the bloody lot of them to it.
Before I really DO start screaming...
Alice x
No comments:
Post a Comment