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A strange balance point
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<blockquote data-quote="Childofmine" data-source="post: 621042" data-attributes="member: 17542"><p>RE, I know it is hard to hear that yet another person is done. I remember feeling that my ex-husband shouldn't let my son live with him but also somehow glad he had somewhere to be. And then he was done.</p><p></p><p>It is so hard to know that they literally have nowhere to go and nobody to go to. The mommy inside us cries out against that. It's in our DNA. </p><p></p><p>Last week, when I met difficult child for our 10-minute "come to Jesus" talk, I was struck by the sight of him fumbling in his backpack. I saw that package of peanut butter crackers there. I can almost cry right now seeing that again in my mind's eye. His life has come down to this. A backpack with shampoo and deodorant, an extra pair of jeans, a shirt or two. Peanut butter crackers. </p><p></p><p>I had to walk away. RE, you have done it and done it and done it, and it didn't do anything but prolong this day, this time. </p><p></p><p>I don't know why it has to be this way. I only know that it is. And if we keep on and on and on, they will just keep on and on and on.</p><p></p><p>It is the saddest thing in this world. It is particularly sad because it could have been so different for so long.</p><p></p><p>RE, you are feeling that where you are is right because it is. It isn't comfortable, but it is right. Maybe, right now, you will wrack your brain for just one....more....thing....you can do. Surely there must be. This is hard stuff, hearing all of this that you are hearing and thinking the things you are thinking. It is an end of the road. </p><p></p><p>As we so painfully know, people can and do survive in circumstances that are incomprehensible to us. Yesterday, my son FB-messaged me and asked if I still have his resume I helped him with from 2011. I found it, and I have emailed it to him. He also asked about his w-2 form and about his car title/car key. I have responded about those things.</p><p></p><p>The cynical me can paint a picture with all of that. The hopeful me can paint another picture. But I am still working hard on ME, on letting him be. On letting him go. If it is a hopeful picture, than Hallelujah! If it is another step down the wrong road, then he will again have to suffer the consequences. I am not going to send him to school on the dangers of title loans, etc. I'm not going to go there, RE.</p><p></p><p>Your daughter will have to ask questions. She will have to find her own resources, her own shelter, her own halfway house, her own medical care, her own next meal. Her own next shower. She can, RE. If they can do all of these other things they are doing, they surely can open their mouths and ask. There is a lot of help out there. But first they have to ask.</p><p></p><p>That is what I told my son as I stood there with him last Tuesday about this time. I said, either you will figure it out, or you will be standing here at this same spot with the same backpack this time next year.</p><p></p><p>Did I believe everything I said, RE? I don't know if I did or not. I just know I had to do it. RE, I---and you---we have already done everything else. EVERYTHING ELSE IN THIS WORLD.</p><p></p><p>We must somehow, someway find the strength, courage, support, energy and purpose to keep moving forward on this path.</p><p></p><p>You always help me so, so very much with your words, RE. You encourage me so much and you have a gift of choosing the right words at the right time. I wish I could help you and say just the right thing. I don't know what that is right now, but please know this. I am feeling your pain right now, and I am right here with you. See my wagon? It's right here.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Childofmine, post: 621042, member: 17542"] RE, I know it is hard to hear that yet another person is done. I remember feeling that my ex-husband shouldn't let my son live with him but also somehow glad he had somewhere to be. And then he was done. It is so hard to know that they literally have nowhere to go and nobody to go to. The mommy inside us cries out against that. It's in our DNA. Last week, when I met difficult child for our 10-minute "come to Jesus" talk, I was struck by the sight of him fumbling in his backpack. I saw that package of peanut butter crackers there. I can almost cry right now seeing that again in my mind's eye. His life has come down to this. A backpack with shampoo and deodorant, an extra pair of jeans, a shirt or two. Peanut butter crackers. I had to walk away. RE, you have done it and done it and done it, and it didn't do anything but prolong this day, this time. I don't know why it has to be this way. I only know that it is. And if we keep on and on and on, they will just keep on and on and on. It is the saddest thing in this world. It is particularly sad because it could have been so different for so long. RE, you are feeling that where you are is right because it is. It isn't comfortable, but it is right. Maybe, right now, you will wrack your brain for just one....more....thing....you can do. Surely there must be. This is hard stuff, hearing all of this that you are hearing and thinking the things you are thinking. It is an end of the road. As we so painfully know, people can and do survive in circumstances that are incomprehensible to us. Yesterday, my son FB-messaged me and asked if I still have his resume I helped him with from 2011. I found it, and I have emailed it to him. He also asked about his w-2 form and about his car title/car key. I have responded about those things. The cynical me can paint a picture with all of that. The hopeful me can paint another picture. But I am still working hard on ME, on letting him be. On letting him go. If it is a hopeful picture, than Hallelujah! If it is another step down the wrong road, then he will again have to suffer the consequences. I am not going to send him to school on the dangers of title loans, etc. I'm not going to go there, RE. Your daughter will have to ask questions. She will have to find her own resources, her own shelter, her own halfway house, her own medical care, her own next meal. Her own next shower. She can, RE. If they can do all of these other things they are doing, they surely can open their mouths and ask. There is a lot of help out there. But first they have to ask. That is what I told my son as I stood there with him last Tuesday about this time. I said, either you will figure it out, or you will be standing here at this same spot with the same backpack this time next year. Did I believe everything I said, RE? I don't know if I did or not. I just know I had to do it. RE, I---and you---we have already done everything else. EVERYTHING ELSE IN THIS WORLD. We must somehow, someway find the strength, courage, support, energy and purpose to keep moving forward on this path. You always help me so, so very much with your words, RE. You encourage me so much and you have a gift of choosing the right words at the right time. I wish I could help you and say just the right thing. I don't know what that is right now, but please know this. I am feeling your pain right now, and I am right here with you. See my wagon? It's right here. [/QUOTE]
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A strange balance point
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