scent of cedar
New Member
I was responding to a post this morning. I realized that the guilt/sick at heart/dark horror/anticipation feeling we all know so well is probably one of the symptoms of a post-traumatic stress reaction.
Then, I realized I have been functioning about one quart low since difficult child came home last summer.
Recurrent shocks / instantaneous "Fix it! Fix it now, before it gets worse!" responses. (Otherwise known as "Fixate! Fixate now...!")
Oh my Lord, LOTS OF TELEVISION WATCHING.
I am talking series here, ladies. REALITY TELEVISION.
Hours and hours of it.
When I am not watching television? I am calling on things difficult child hasn't taken care of. I.D. stuff, car accident stuff, food and money and lifestyle stuff.
Here is a funny thing (sort of) that happened, yesterday. difficult child actually had the gall to tell me that it is embarrassing for her to have her mom calling and emailing people at the homeless center to watch for difficult child's I.D.
SOMEONE ACTUALLY ASKED WHETHER THAT WAS REALLY HER MOM.
And it never even occurred to me, until difficult child said something...that what I was doing was in any way inappropriate. difficult child has no I.D. and she needs one? No problemo. She needs to get into her storage unit (which we are paying for) and has lost both keys? NO PROBLEM THERE, EITHER.
After talking to the storage people, the storage person's wife, and the locksmith? We realized there may be a key in the car difficult child and significant other crashed into a stone wall in March. AND I FOUND THE POLICE OFFICER WHO CAN STILL GET US INTO THE CAR.
WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME?!?
And here is the kicker: difficult child has access to phone and internet, now.
There is not a reason in the world any of this should concern me.
I just want poor little difficult child to have what she needs.
Plus? I am going to her psychiatrist with her. Know why? To be sure he/she understands what a fine person difficult child was just a few short months ago.
Oh, brother.
Barbara
Then, I realized I have been functioning about one quart low since difficult child came home last summer.
Recurrent shocks / instantaneous "Fix it! Fix it now, before it gets worse!" responses. (Otherwise known as "Fixate! Fixate now...!")
Oh my Lord, LOTS OF TELEVISION WATCHING.
I am talking series here, ladies. REALITY TELEVISION.
Hours and hours of it.
When I am not watching television? I am calling on things difficult child hasn't taken care of. I.D. stuff, car accident stuff, food and money and lifestyle stuff.
Here is a funny thing (sort of) that happened, yesterday. difficult child actually had the gall to tell me that it is embarrassing for her to have her mom calling and emailing people at the homeless center to watch for difficult child's I.D.
SOMEONE ACTUALLY ASKED WHETHER THAT WAS REALLY HER MOM.
And it never even occurred to me, until difficult child said something...that what I was doing was in any way inappropriate. difficult child has no I.D. and she needs one? No problemo. She needs to get into her storage unit (which we are paying for) and has lost both keys? NO PROBLEM THERE, EITHER.
After talking to the storage people, the storage person's wife, and the locksmith? We realized there may be a key in the car difficult child and significant other crashed into a stone wall in March. AND I FOUND THE POLICE OFFICER WHO CAN STILL GET US INTO THE CAR.
WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME?!?
And here is the kicker: difficult child has access to phone and internet, now.
There is not a reason in the world any of this should concern me.
I just want poor little difficult child to have what she needs.
Plus? I am going to her psychiatrist with her. Know why? To be sure he/she understands what a fine person difficult child was just a few short months ago.
Oh, brother.
Barbara