The last thing I got to hear last night was Mike slamming the door of his room and screaming something about how I don’t F****** trust him. I didn’t respond, but what I wanted to say was, “As long as my cash card is stolen, my money is missing, people’s medications are disappearing even when they are hidden or locked up, and I find my scrapbooking pens in YOUR pocket, I’m not going to trust you.” Instead, I just shut up.
What I wish he could understand is that I am beginning to trust his heart, but because of his FAS, he can’t even trust himself. I don’t think that he is going to plot how to steal and spend a five dollar bill that he sees sitting on my dresser. However, if he goes into my room, and I am foolish enough to leave the $5 in plain sight, it IS going to end up in his pocket. I am beginning to trust his intentions, his desires, his motivation as I think they are heading in the right direction, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust his actions, as they are so controlled by his disability.
It’s a tough position to be in, for him and for me...
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