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Feeling Sad---Son is Homeless
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<blockquote data-quote="Feeling Sad" data-source="post: 705350" data-attributes="member: 19245"><p>My middle son has always been a bit of a bohemian hippie type. He buys cheap tee shirts with funny pictures on them from the dollar store or thrift shop. He even has a tie dyed one. He has never bought into the new car and big house thinking. He eats very healthy foods.</p><p></p><p>I think that it is both. He is chronically depressed and he holds me...on some level responsible.</p><p></p><p>He feels that it was my gamble that I chose to take with my poor genes that produced my ill son. Then he brought up that staying married so long with his father was bad on his ill brother and himself. Lastly, he brought up a time when I got upset with my schizophrenic son.</p><p></p><p>I came home one day with my fairly large backyard divided into 2 halves. My meandering faux 'stream' was gone and the river stones were in a huge pile in the corner on my 'half'. My patio table was placed on a large piece of plywood in the center of the yard...slightly on my 'half' and every statue or pot was placed onto it or in disarray beside it. The large rounded boulders that once surrounded my planter were now in a straight line, dividing the yard vertically into two halves. He threw in some old rain gutters and long pieces of wood for good measure to further delineate the yard, just in case you missed it.</p><p></p><p>My green ivy-patterned metal arbor was on its side, on my half. The pedestal and large urn that were beneath it were both dragged away onto my half.</p><p></p><p>But the worst part was that he had dismantled and broken up my quaint little white potting shed. I had tolerated tooth paste being smeared all over, sirachi sauce squirted onto the ceiling and velvet antique settee, spaghetti sauce with meat splattered all over the family room walls, and even urine on the rug and elsewhere. He smashed a special water pitcher and bowl that had belonged to my mother so hard at my feet, that it ripped through the vinyl flooring to expose the cement. He stabbed up my kitchen cabinets and counters with a knife. Three computers, a t.v., and my parents large marble Danish modern table from my childhood were destroyed. He slowly broke each of the 6 large etched glass globes on my antique chandelier over several years. These things I took fairly in stride. I was 'beaten' into submission. It had become never-ending.</p><p></p><p>But, I really liked the cute potting shed. It had, key word 'had', a nice little porch in brick in front that I had made with a white wrought-iron bench on it. The bricks were all tossed into a pile...slightly over the 'border' onto my territory.</p><p></p><p>My country English garden was gone. I just stood there in shock. They I started to ask, maybe a little upset, "Whhhhyyyyy???"...</p><p></p><p>He always ran off to his room very quickly and closed the door. I just stood there repeating the question.</p><p></p><p>My middle son told me that I had been 'mean' to him. He he told me that my ill son was just trying to make the yard look better. He told me that I shouldn't have been so concerned with 'material' items, but, rather, in my son's emotional state.</p><p></p><p>I told him that I was usually very patient and endured a lot, but that he should have asked me before tearing down my potting shed...that had cute shuttered windows and a sweet Dutch door...and that my 3 sons used to play in when they were young...before all of this...</p><p></p><p>My middle son told that I should have 'appreciated' the 'better' days more before my ill son got worse.</p><p></p><p>He really doesn't think that I kick myself every day? That I don't replay events that, if done somehow differently, could have altered his unending march into his delusions and psychotic states? REALLY???</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Feeling Sad, post: 705350, member: 19245"] My middle son has always been a bit of a bohemian hippie type. He buys cheap tee shirts with funny pictures on them from the dollar store or thrift shop. He even has a tie dyed one. He has never bought into the new car and big house thinking. He eats very healthy foods. I think that it is both. He is chronically depressed and he holds me...on some level responsible. He feels that it was my gamble that I chose to take with my poor genes that produced my ill son. Then he brought up that staying married so long with his father was bad on his ill brother and himself. Lastly, he brought up a time when I got upset with my schizophrenic son. I came home one day with my fairly large backyard divided into 2 halves. My meandering faux 'stream' was gone and the river stones were in a huge pile in the corner on my 'half'. My patio table was placed on a large piece of plywood in the center of the yard...slightly on my 'half' and every statue or pot was placed onto it or in disarray beside it. The large rounded boulders that once surrounded my planter were now in a straight line, dividing the yard vertically into two halves. He threw in some old rain gutters and long pieces of wood for good measure to further delineate the yard, just in case you missed it. My green ivy-patterned metal arbor was on its side, on my half. The pedestal and large urn that were beneath it were both dragged away onto my half. But the worst part was that he had dismantled and broken up my quaint little white potting shed. I had tolerated tooth paste being smeared all over, sirachi sauce squirted onto the ceiling and velvet antique settee, spaghetti sauce with meat splattered all over the family room walls, and even urine on the rug and elsewhere. He smashed a special water pitcher and bowl that had belonged to my mother so hard at my feet, that it ripped through the vinyl flooring to expose the cement. He stabbed up my kitchen cabinets and counters with a knife. Three computers, a t.v., and my parents large marble Danish modern table from my childhood were destroyed. He slowly broke each of the 6 large etched glass globes on my antique chandelier over several years. These things I took fairly in stride. I was 'beaten' into submission. It had become never-ending. But, I really liked the cute potting shed. It had, key word 'had', a nice little porch in brick in front that I had made with a white wrought-iron bench on it. The bricks were all tossed into a pile...slightly over the 'border' onto my territory. My country English garden was gone. I just stood there in shock. They I started to ask, maybe a little upset, "Whhhhyyyyy???"... He always ran off to his room very quickly and closed the door. I just stood there repeating the question. My middle son told me that I had been 'mean' to him. He he told me that my ill son was just trying to make the yard look better. He told me that I shouldn't have been so concerned with 'material' items, but, rather, in my son's emotional state. I told him that I was usually very patient and endured a lot, but that he should have asked me before tearing down my potting shed...that had cute shuttered windows and a sweet Dutch door...and that my 3 sons used to play in when they were young...before all of this... My middle son told that I should have 'appreciated' the 'better' days more before my ill son got worse. He really doesn't think that I kick myself every day? That I don't replay events that, if done somehow differently, could have altered his unending march into his delusions and psychotic states? REALLY??? [/QUOTE]
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