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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 742315" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>completelydrained Hopefully I will respond later to your wonderful post about letting go, but for now I will quickly respond to your latest beautiful post, and to Elsi.I dealt with men who were forced into treatment. Against their will, some of them flowered. They did not become different people but they turned toward the light. They responded. That is all that is needed, sometimes. To wake up. Like a Sleeping Beauty kiss.</p><p></p><p>There are all kinds of treatments. Sometimes, in this society, we conceive of treatment like work. Sometimes, treatment, all it is, is connection. Sometimes, treatment works on the body. Sometimes treatment is only to listen. Sometimes, treatment facilitates expression and it does not seem like "treatment" at all. I hate that word, treatment. Because it suggests submission or being worked on or treated...like an object.</p><p></p><p>I have never been successful in forcing my son into treatment. But he could choose it. That could still happen. </p><p></p><p>I am with smithmom. I would like to think that I could do it, stay in the game, trying over and over again to present a different facet of hope and belief in my son.</p><p>This is so very sad. I think that this sadness is what I have not wanted to completely feel. And by hiding, I have been unavailable to my son. I keep wanting for him to get motivated, to stop the nonsense, to wake up, to get over it, etc., and I am the one who wants to stay in the dark. I sound completely heartless here. But it is true.</p><p>This is so sad.</p><p></p><p>I will say something here that will seem really clueless and hard. I am speaking to myself here and not to you. <em>Life is hard and then we die.</em> What other way is there to look at it? We can only meet the challenges of our lives and our blessings as they come, and as we make them.</p><p></p><p>The other day SWOT who has been a real blessing for me, in seeing the way with my son, referred to my son as my beloved. He is my beloved. And my love for him, for all of the pain, and frustration, and trials...has shown through the internet, so that she felt it too. And I owned, not for the first time, that my son is indeed my true love, my beloved. And I said a blessing of gratitude that I could love him so much, and that I could fight for him so hard. And that because of this, I did not live in vain. Not any other thing, no accomplishment, no nothing, has defined me as has my great love for him.</p><p></p><p>I lose sight of this, because it is so damn hard and I fail so much, and my limits and my own pain are exposed. And I just hate this.</p><p></p><p>But I need to remember that this is about my love for him, and his for me, more than anything else. We fight for their welfare but more than that we fight for our love of them. Do we ever lose when we love?</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 742315, member: 18958"] completelydrained Hopefully I will respond later to your wonderful post about letting go, but for now I will quickly respond to your latest beautiful post, and to Elsi.I dealt with men who were forced into treatment. Against their will, some of them flowered. They did not become different people but they turned toward the light. They responded. That is all that is needed, sometimes. To wake up. Like a Sleeping Beauty kiss. There are all kinds of treatments. Sometimes, in this society, we conceive of treatment like work. Sometimes, treatment, all it is, is connection. Sometimes, treatment works on the body. Sometimes treatment is only to listen. Sometimes, treatment facilitates expression and it does not seem like "treatment" at all. I hate that word, treatment. Because it suggests submission or being worked on or treated...like an object. I have never been successful in forcing my son into treatment. But he could choose it. That could still happen. I am with smithmom. I would like to think that I could do it, stay in the game, trying over and over again to present a different facet of hope and belief in my son. This is so very sad. I think that this sadness is what I have not wanted to completely feel. And by hiding, I have been unavailable to my son. I keep wanting for him to get motivated, to stop the nonsense, to wake up, to get over it, etc., and I am the one who wants to stay in the dark. I sound completely heartless here. But it is true. This is so sad. I will say something here that will seem really clueless and hard. I am speaking to myself here and not to you. [I]Life is hard and then we die.[/I] What other way is there to look at it? We can only meet the challenges of our lives and our blessings as they come, and as we make them. The other day SWOT who has been a real blessing for me, in seeing the way with my son, referred to my son as my beloved. He is my beloved. And my love for him, for all of the pain, and frustration, and trials...has shown through the internet, so that she felt it too. And I owned, not for the first time, that my son is indeed my true love, my beloved. And I said a blessing of gratitude that I could love him so much, and that I could fight for him so hard. And that because of this, I did not live in vain. Not any other thing, no accomplishment, no nothing, has defined me as has my great love for him. I lose sight of this, because it is so damn hard and I fail so much, and my limits and my own pain are exposed. And I just hate this. But I need to remember that this is about my love for him, and his for me, more than anything else. We fight for their welfare but more than that we fight for our love of them. Do we ever lose when we love? [/QUOTE]
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