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I really don't want to do this anymore !!!!!!
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 677272" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>I see myself, now, as having no choice, but stay detached.</p><p></p><p>I was helped by my health. My physical health. I could have tolerated psychological abuse forever, unfortunately, but physical deterioration is impossible to ignore. When my son is near me I am ill. I have unbearable stomach pain, the doubled over kind. I eat Prilosec, many times the prescribed amount. My life when he he is near is a nightmare.</p><p></p><p>So while I see I had no choice, I credit myself still. I could have continued to kill myself. I chose not to. Yes. I am in this place. Because my son is not changing.</p><p></p><p>Except to get worse. While I am unaware that he is doing worse things, he continues to ever more firmly reinforce the worse things in his character especially projecting responsibility to others and believing he has power when he does not. He seems indifferent to how he affects other people.</p><p></p><p>I am his last resort and the only one left who can help him. He called last night, and I refused. He wanted to come to my home. I refused. Because I know what is at</p><p>stake for me. I followed COM's rule, I made myself the 51 percent.</p><p></p><p>I am thinking how and if I will help him, because he will most certainly come to my town.</p><p>The only way to extract something positive from this all is this. That each miserable and conflict-ridden contact serve to recommit us to ourselves, our lives and our changing. In my case, my self-denial is a lifelong pattern. So any commitment to MYSELF really IS changing my life. I need to remember this. </p><p>I have found this to be true. Absolutely true.</p><p>It is not that you do not love her, it is that you do not love her more than you love yourself. </p><p></p><p>Perhaps in my life, I have never loved myself more than the other person. If I succeed in changing this, even sometimes, it will be a victory. Still, if I knew that self-sacrifice would save my son I would do so in a heartbeat. I know it will not. I have tried this. It failed.</p><p></p><p>The recognition that you cannot save her, is the hardest of realizations. There are people in this life who cannot be saved. Probably all of them. They need to save themselves.</p><p></p><p>I adopted my son whose parents were dying of AIDS. I wanted to save myself, through loving him. While it seemed to work for years and years, eventually it no longer did. </p><p></p><p>It was a fantasy. I am coming to grips with learning to believe in real life. It was always a true thing that my son's life would be determined by all kinds of things...his early history, his genetics, his personal choices, and of course, my best efforts to parent him....My love was only one thing.</p><p></p><p>I am confronting that my love to him could never have saved me. I have to do that myself.</p><p></p><p>My sadness now is not only for my son, it is the death of my own fantasies. That does not mean the death of my dreams. As long as I am alive I can dream and work to make those dreams real. For me.</p><p></p><p>There is no way it is not a good thing for me to experience this reality check. And for my son it is a good thing, too. I see that now. </p><p></p><p>It is very, very painful nonetheless. I am sad. More than I can express.</p><p></p><p>I was a good and loving parent. I still am. That was all I could ever have been. Nothing more.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 677272, member: 18958"] I see myself, now, as having no choice, but stay detached. I was helped by my health. My physical health. I could have tolerated psychological abuse forever, unfortunately, but physical deterioration is impossible to ignore. When my son is near me I am ill. I have unbearable stomach pain, the doubled over kind. I eat Prilosec, many times the prescribed amount. My life when he he is near is a nightmare. So while I see I had no choice, I credit myself still. I could have continued to kill myself. I chose not to. Yes. I am in this place. Because my son is not changing. Except to get worse. While I am unaware that he is doing worse things, he continues to ever more firmly reinforce the worse things in his character especially projecting responsibility to others and believing he has power when he does not. He seems indifferent to how he affects other people. I am his last resort and the only one left who can help him. He called last night, and I refused. He wanted to come to my home. I refused. Because I know what is at stake for me. I followed COM's rule, I made myself the 51 percent. I am thinking how and if I will help him, because he will most certainly come to my town. The only way to extract something positive from this all is this. That each miserable and conflict-ridden contact serve to recommit us to ourselves, our lives and our changing. In my case, my self-denial is a lifelong pattern. So any commitment to MYSELF really IS changing my life. I need to remember this. I have found this to be true. Absolutely true. It is not that you do not love her, it is that you do not love her more than you love yourself. Perhaps in my life, I have never loved myself more than the other person. If I succeed in changing this, even sometimes, it will be a victory. Still, if I knew that self-sacrifice would save my son I would do so in a heartbeat. I know it will not. I have tried this. It failed. The recognition that you cannot save her, is the hardest of realizations. There are people in this life who cannot be saved. Probably all of them. They need to save themselves. I adopted my son whose parents were dying of AIDS. I wanted to save myself, through loving him. While it seemed to work for years and years, eventually it no longer did. It was a fantasy. I am coming to grips with learning to believe in real life. It was always a true thing that my son's life would be determined by all kinds of things...his early history, his genetics, his personal choices, and of course, my best efforts to parent him....My love was only one thing. I am confronting that my love to him could never have saved me. I have to do that myself. My sadness now is not only for my son, it is the death of my own fantasies. That does not mean the death of my dreams. As long as I am alive I can dream and work to make those dreams real. For me. There is no way it is not a good thing for me to experience this reality check. And for my son it is a good thing, too. I see that now. It is very, very painful nonetheless. I am sad. More than I can express. I was a good and loving parent. I still am. That was all I could ever have been. Nothing more. COPA [/QUOTE]
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I really don't want to do this anymore !!!!!!
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