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Substance Abuse
Anger versus hurt
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<blockquote data-quote="Signorina" data-source="post: 561268"><p>Well, TL - point taken. On the surface. Because he has - in a sense - returned to us. We are his official "hometown" crash pad. He was here for 3 weeks over the summer, for a week in September, for 3 weeks in October and returns "sometime this weekend" for (I think) the duration thru the holidays.</p><p></p><p>I am not defending myself. Please -- I need you to understand that. </p><p></p><p>I am just showing you my secret self. You'd never know it if you met me.</p><p></p><p>On the outside, I am going with the flow. Letting it all roll. Oh - "have fun, difficult child." "Text us when you get to (wherever it is you are going, a concert, North Dakota, Mars)" "Text us when you leave(for the next place)" "Text us when you get to the (next place)" I can almost recite the phrases to detach in order. "How nice!" "I am so sorry to hear that" (in response to "I am short on cash") "I hope that works out for you" (in response to I can't enroll because I am still in arrears; leading to "I am underpaid")and my latest; "It sounds like you have a plan"... He wants us to be proud of him. He talks the talk. He just won't walk the walk.</p><p></p><p>What I want to shout at the top of my lungs is "YOU IDIOT, do you think we're stupid?" "How's that pot working out for you?"; "The shortest distance from point A to Point B is a straight line!" ... which of course leads back to "What the heck are you smoking...?" (please know I don't shout it, I swallow it)</p><p></p><p>So, I won't be at peace until he is safe and sound and on planet Earth both physically and metaphorically. And apparently, that won't be anytime soon. He is feeding us a line of bull. I am pretty sure of it. I am not sure if he is trying to kid us or trying to kid himself. But those odd weeks he is sleeping under my roof? I know he is safe and sound. Those other weeks when he texts me to let me know he has "arrived or "just left" wherever the heck it is he is going? I know he is not fleeing us in fury. And somehow I am treading the rough water glad I am not (no longer?) drowning. I know what I had 2.5 years ago. I know what I had 1 year ago. And tonight, I know he is heading back to us thru a patchwork of rides and buses. Not the life I imagined for him. Not the life his easy child brother is leading - easy child's plane tickets are in hand for the holidays; his mid term grades a solid 3.0 . difficult child is so far away from the way we raised him, unrecognizable from the person he was for 18.5 years. But yet he is so much closer to us than he was just 6 months ago.</p><p></p><p>So, today's unease is preferable to the terror and FEAR I had not too long ago. Yet, unease is a long way from peace. I fear I am ostriching or treading water but I know that unease is better than isolation. Inside - as a parent - I feel like a fraud. If I saw you at the grocery store, I'd tell you that difficult child is just sowing his oats, living the life. I'd smile as I shrug my shoulders; and I would look to the heavens in a "who knows?, "boys will be boys" gesture. But since I won't see you in the grocery store, I will admit HERE that I am terrified and hurt by the life he has chosen to live. It is completely foreign to the way he was raised and to the boy he once was. And I struggle to understand how or why he has chosen such a long, hard, rocky, STUPID road.</p><p></p><p>I don't mean to be a pollyanna</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Signorina, post: 561268"] Well, TL - point taken. On the surface. Because he has - in a sense - returned to us. We are his official "hometown" crash pad. He was here for 3 weeks over the summer, for a week in September, for 3 weeks in October and returns "sometime this weekend" for (I think) the duration thru the holidays. I am not defending myself. Please -- I need you to understand that. I am just showing you my secret self. You'd never know it if you met me. On the outside, I am going with the flow. Letting it all roll. Oh - "have fun, difficult child." "Text us when you get to (wherever it is you are going, a concert, North Dakota, Mars)" "Text us when you leave(for the next place)" "Text us when you get to the (next place)" I can almost recite the phrases to detach in order. "How nice!" "I am so sorry to hear that" (in response to "I am short on cash") "I hope that works out for you" (in response to I can't enroll because I am still in arrears; leading to "I am underpaid")and my latest; "It sounds like you have a plan"... He wants us to be proud of him. He talks the talk. He just won't walk the walk. What I want to shout at the top of my lungs is "YOU IDIOT, do you think we're stupid?" "How's that pot working out for you?"; "The shortest distance from point A to Point B is a straight line!" ... which of course leads back to "What the heck are you smoking...?" (please know I don't shout it, I swallow it) So, I won't be at peace until he is safe and sound and on planet Earth both physically and metaphorically. And apparently, that won't be anytime soon. He is feeding us a line of bull. I am pretty sure of it. I am not sure if he is trying to kid us or trying to kid himself. But those odd weeks he is sleeping under my roof? I know he is safe and sound. Those other weeks when he texts me to let me know he has "arrived or "just left" wherever the heck it is he is going? I know he is not fleeing us in fury. And somehow I am treading the rough water glad I am not (no longer?) drowning. I know what I had 2.5 years ago. I know what I had 1 year ago. And tonight, I know he is heading back to us thru a patchwork of rides and buses. Not the life I imagined for him. Not the life his easy child brother is leading - easy child's plane tickets are in hand for the holidays; his mid term grades a solid 3.0 . difficult child is so far away from the way we raised him, unrecognizable from the person he was for 18.5 years. But yet he is so much closer to us than he was just 6 months ago. So, today's unease is preferable to the terror and FEAR I had not too long ago. Yet, unease is a long way from peace. I fear I am ostriching or treading water but I know that unease is better than isolation. Inside - as a parent - I feel like a fraud. If I saw you at the grocery store, I'd tell you that difficult child is just sowing his oats, living the life. I'd smile as I shrug my shoulders; and I would look to the heavens in a "who knows?, "boys will be boys" gesture. But since I won't see you in the grocery store, I will admit HERE that I am terrified and hurt by the life he has chosen to live. It is completely foreign to the way he was raised and to the boy he once was. And I struggle to understand how or why he has chosen such a long, hard, rocky, STUPID road. I don't mean to be a pollyanna [/QUOTE]
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