When it rains...

So, mom was supposed to go to rehab today. Turns out, she doesn't fit the requirements for the "classy" rehab center because you need out-patient to get there. Her out-patient was psychiatric, not substance abuse... and it doesn't count that she got kicked out of it because of substance abuse.

Whatever.

Either way, this is about the 5th time I've emotionally prepared myself for her 30 day absense, and once again... foiled. I can' t take it anymore. She's asking for help. In fact, she WANTS help... please explain to me why there's a million chains on GETTING HELP? It isn't even a money issue, we HAVE the money. They want her to go to a state rehab... where they don't care about you, and you don't need good insurance. Fuck.

Furthermore, Don's just driving me completely insane. He's pretty much on the verge of relapse, although I'm fairly certain he won't do it. [Fairly certain.] He's worried about his move here... well, moreso about the "what ifs" but he won't tell me what those are. He doesn't want to share them. Oh, okay, then... that's fair? It's so infuriating. I have enough on my plate without him acting like I'm not allowed to know his SUPER SECRET FEARS.

He's going to tell his parents about the move tonight. Maybe.

I'm not sure if we'll talk. His conversation with me turned rather bitter rather quickly.. and he didn't say he loved me. excellent.

In lighter news, Thomas got his license today.

There's always an up... I guess.