Dear Cat:

You are welcome and thank you for being assertive a second time. It is a delight for me to witness this very important skill done so well.

I too lived with a heavy duty drug addict as a roommate, for a long, long time. Unfortunately, no amount of assertiveness can help in that situation, only one solution and that is to move out, live separately from such individuals. I remember nights I couldn’t sleep as my then heroin/ cocaine/ anything one can swallow, snort or inject roommate was running in place, opening and closing drawers, etc., all night long.  After one such night I had a car accident that could have been fatal. A few broken ribs, a concussion, a totaled (uninsured) car.

My advice: consider your situation as dangerous, as it does indeed increase your chances to get into accidents because of inattentiveness and exhaustion. Put all the energy you can muster into moving out ASAP. All other goals, put on hold. Regarding #1, I don’t think you can heal living where you are. #2- perhaps move to Bristol ASAP, find a livable living situation first (ex., room for rent in an older, quiet person’s house), , then look for a job, then if you need to, move to a more fitting-to you living situation. #3- I wouldn’t attend to a March gig plan, but focus on #1 instead.

You wrote this later in your recent post: “It’s like being morally and soulfully contracted to carry out a life under (your parents’) pains and misery, and feeling like I am harming them if I choose to love myself and therefore cut them out of my life etc. It’s the worst feeling in the world”- I can relate, very much. I literally made a verbal contract with myself one day after one of my mother’s explosions of misery and pain. I said to myself: I do not deserve to live my life and will not attend to my life until I fix hers, until I make her happy.

I remained true to my contract until seven years ago when I started my first quality psychotherapy and in doing so, started my still ongoing healing process. A few years ago I finally cut all contact with my mother. Felt guilty long afterward. No longer.

anita