It's Like They Plan it This Way

I've noticed that when there's trouble with one of the addicts in my life, there's bound to be trouble with the other either simultaneously, or following in short order. It's like they plan it this way. 

I imagine Roi and Kyd getting on the phone with each other and collaborating on timing. 

"Ok, Briar seems to be relaxing a little, getting some sleep, catching up on everything just enough that she can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  It's time to pull the rug out again, whaddya say?"

"Sounds good to me man.  Let's see, I've got an opening on Friday.  What do things look like for you?"

"I'm good the following Wednesday. Got the whole day free for some delicious self-destruction and finding a way to blame everyone else."

"Awesome. It's a plan dude."

Kyd had an appointment today so per the usual I drove an hour to get him, and an hour back so that he could make it to his appointment. On the drive home last night things were going well. Kyd was talkative, in a spastic kind of way, but it looked like his mood was good. 

Then we took a wrong turn. Or rather, I didn't take a turn that Kyd thought I should have taken, and suddenly the conversation drove straight into dangerous territory. I was taking a back way home, not a shortcut, but a route with less traffic. Kyd was positive the way I chose was MUCH longer, and it didn't make any sense to him why I would go that way. 

That would have been fine if when Lexi and I explained how it wasn't longer and had less traffic things were settled. They weren't. He started calling us insane and crazy and pointed out that we were women so obviously had no sense of direction. He kept at it even though we tried laughing through it, telling him we'd settle it with a map when we got home, etc. He got progressively louder, insistent, and rude, and eventually Lexi got pissed off. 

That's when Kyd started banging on her seat and then heaved himself out of the car at a red light, flailing his arms around and cursing.  

The rest of the night he babbled heatedly about how awful we are, how he hates coming home, how we make him depressed and angry, how it's OUR fault he acts this way. 

It was clear he was not in his right mind, and I was thrown right back into full red alert mode. Is he having a psychotic break? Is he ON something? Is he coming down OFF something? At what point do I call the police? An ambulance? Where is the hotline for help on this kind of confusing mess? I've done it all. Therapy, meds, neurofeedback, neuropsych evaluation, detox, rehab hospital commitment, all resulting in the addiction folks saying he has mental health issues and the mental health folk saying he has addiction issues. 

It's painful and heartbreaking and I feel so helpless to do anything.