Forums
New posts
Search forums
What's new
New posts
New profile posts
Latest activity
Internet Search
Members
Current visitors
New profile posts
Search profile posts
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
New posts
Search forums
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Forums
Parent Support Forums
Parent Emeritus
Having a rough day today
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 640737" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>The dreams we dreamed when our children were babies die long, hard deaths. We need to honor our grief.</p><p></p><p>Our losses are real. </p><p></p><p>Our loss is as real as the loss of the mother whose child has died, after a long and tormenting illness. Our loss is as real as is the loss of a mother (or father) whose child has been kidnapped. For so many of us, our children disappeared with that same suddenness. Drug use or mental illness has changed our children into people we hardly recognize.</p><p></p><p>In many cases, we love them now only because, once up on a time, our worlds revolved around a child who looked very much like them...but we don't understand where that child is, today.</p><p></p><p>I am sorry for your pain this morning. Acknowledging and naming and defining the nature of the pain enables us to become familiar with it. Once we know the nature of our grieving, we can choose to survive it.</p><p></p><p>We must choose to look everything squarely in the eye. We need to know the nature of our stories so well that guilt and regret and resentment can no longer do us in, cannot weaken or shame us, anymore.</p><p></p><p>It is very hard, what we need to do. But there is no other way to survive our very hard situations. The battle is about acceptance, is about seeing clearly enough to protect ourselves without bitterness, without blaming or condemning our children for their situations.</p><p></p><p>This is what it is, to love a child with a mental or emotional illness. </p><p></p><p>If we can be clear on the genesis of the problems, then I think we can proceed with compassion. I think we can perform as required, without bitterness or blaming, whether that is to tell a child "no", to end a phone conversation if and when the child becomes abusive, to refuse money or even, to refuse our time until the child is able to control him or her self.</p><p></p><p>But none of it is easy.</p><p></p><p>We have to be very, very strong.</p><p></p><p>We need to make a decision to celebrate our lives, to cherish ourselves and our stories. We need to stop comparing ourselves with those moms who get the Hallmark holidays. (This is especially true of myself.)</p><p></p><p>Our stories are our own.</p><p></p><p>Our stories are terribly sad, sometimes.</p><p></p><p>It's as though our lives have become exercises in loving our children, and in surviving them.</p><p></p><p>It really is.</p><p></p><p>We have had to question ourselves and our motives and our honesty in ways most people are never forced to do. What is reflected back to us from our children is often so distorted as to be unrecognizable. It is very hard to know that our children may be lying. It is very hard to think that their childhoods could have been so different than we remember them. We find ourselves going through all of it with a fine tooth comb. It takes many years to confront it all, because we automatically try to save them, to shelter them, even from ourselves.</p><p></p><p>And then, one day, we learn true things about our children, and that is heartbreaking, too. </p><p></p><p>I am glad you are here with us. It is just a little easier when we know someone hears, and understands, how painful and confusing this all is.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 640737, member: 17461"] The dreams we dreamed when our children were babies die long, hard deaths. We need to honor our grief. Our losses are real. Our loss is as real as the loss of the mother whose child has died, after a long and tormenting illness. Our loss is as real as is the loss of a mother (or father) whose child has been kidnapped. For so many of us, our children disappeared with that same suddenness. Drug use or mental illness has changed our children into people we hardly recognize. In many cases, we love them now only because, once up on a time, our worlds revolved around a child who looked very much like them...but we don't understand where that child is, today. I am sorry for your pain this morning. Acknowledging and naming and defining the nature of the pain enables us to become familiar with it. Once we know the nature of our grieving, we can choose to survive it. We must choose to look everything squarely in the eye. We need to know the nature of our stories so well that guilt and regret and resentment can no longer do us in, cannot weaken or shame us, anymore. It is very hard, what we need to do. But there is no other way to survive our very hard situations. The battle is about acceptance, is about seeing clearly enough to protect ourselves without bitterness, without blaming or condemning our children for their situations. This is what it is, to love a child with a mental or emotional illness. If we can be clear on the genesis of the problems, then I think we can proceed with compassion. I think we can perform as required, without bitterness or blaming, whether that is to tell a child "no", to end a phone conversation if and when the child becomes abusive, to refuse money or even, to refuse our time until the child is able to control him or her self. But none of it is easy. We have to be very, very strong. We need to make a decision to celebrate our lives, to cherish ourselves and our stories. We need to stop comparing ourselves with those moms who get the Hallmark holidays. (This is especially true of myself.) Our stories are our own. Our stories are terribly sad, sometimes. It's as though our lives have become exercises in loving our children, and in surviving them. It really is. We have had to question ourselves and our motives and our honesty in ways most people are never forced to do. What is reflected back to us from our children is often so distorted as to be unrecognizable. It is very hard to know that our children may be lying. It is very hard to think that their childhoods could have been so different than we remember them. We find ourselves going through all of it with a fine tooth comb. It takes many years to confront it all, because we automatically try to save them, to shelter them, even from ourselves. And then, one day, we learn true things about our children, and that is heartbreaking, too. I am glad you are here with us. It is just a little easier when we know someone hears, and understands, how painful and confusing this all is. Cedar [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Forums
Parent Support Forums
Parent Emeritus
Having a rough day today
Top