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my problem, not grave or scary
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<blockquote data-quote="Childofmine" data-source="post: 628378" data-attributes="member: 17542"><p>Hi Landshark, and welcome. Wow, your daughter sounds a lot like the rest of the adults we talk about on this board. And regardless of her diagnosis or lack of diagnosis, I am gathering she is an adult. </p><p></p><p>I'd like to answer the three very real and legitimate questions you posted above, as I have answered them for myself. </p><p></p><p>1. You do <em>want</em> to help someone who, for whatever reason, doesn't live the life of an adult. You do<em> feel </em>sorry for that person. At least for a while, and for most of us, a very very long while, and maybe even a little bit now, from time to time. But feelings aren't facts. That is a truth I learned in Al-Anon and it has taken me a long, long time to unpack that truth and understand it for what it is. I used to think if I felt something it must be true. I feel sad so the situation must be sad. I feel like my son is helpless so he must be helpless. I feel like my son is not able to do something so he must not be able to do something. Not anymore.</p><p>My feelings are still my valid and true feelings and I have to feel them, honor them and not stuff them down or cast them aside. But I don't have to act on them. That is my <strong><u>choice.</u></strong> </p><p></p><p>2. I have done and still do some little things for my son. I choose to do them. I truly like to do things that he doesn't ask me to do, as a surprise, but I also still sometimes do things he asks me to do. Sometimes I still do things for him he should be doing for himself. And that is where I believe I go wrong. That is a seminal question to ask ourselves, every single time: Are we about to do something for somebody (a difficult child) that they should be doing for themself? If the answer is Yes, then I want to stop. Because if I don't stop, I am taking away that person's dignity and adulthood (even more), their chance to face the direct consequences of their choices, and perhaps even, I am delaying or blocking that reality check they need, right now, to help them get closer to their rock bottom. I may be outright harming them. And haven't we all (them and us) had enough harm?</p><p></p><p>3. There are <em>kindnesses</em> and then there are the<em> daily activities of living</em> that every adult should be responsible for. (I am not talking about seriously mentally or physically incapacitated people here, people who truly, honestly, can't do things for themselves. My own sister was blind and disabled with an incurable bone disease. Even she helped around the house and did what she could and our family not only let her, but encouraged her. Her doctors said that is exactly why she lived as long as she did. But I digress.) My son, Landshark, can spend all day walking around town, finding where the free food is, applying for food stamps, checking out books on WWII at the library and wash his own clothes at the shelter, yet he can't get a job? No, he won't get a job. Let's put the right verbs in the sentences. Can't or won't? A kindness is something you choose to do for someone---a bunch of flowers, a special treat you baked, even a load of laundry---because you want to, and it is a gift. Doing somebody's laundry for them because they have chosen not to do it for six months isn't a kindness, in my humble opinion. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Why is that? Is it truly (and I mean truly here) because she can't? Or is because she won't? </p><p></p><p>For the past year, my son has either been in rehab, homeless or in jail. He was kicked out of his dad's house one year ago this week, and he truly has not laid his head in anybody's home---his or otherwise---since that time. What he seems to care about only is living a life completely outside the rules and responsibilities of society. He steals, he takes drugs, he gets arrested, he goes to rehab because I manipulated him into going to rehab, he makes excuses, he is a very sweet and loving person, and Landshark, I am starting to believe he likes this life. That he is choosing this life and is comfortable in this life. And if that is the case, then okay. But he will have to take the very natural and real consequences of choosing that life, and I am working on me today, so that I can accept him with love, regardless of what kind of life he chooses. So in my case, Landshark, I believe it is because he won't. </p><p></p><p>To further unpack it, if a person won't go by the rules and responsibilities of society, then why in the world would I take on those responsibilities for them, i.e., washing clothes regularly, giving him the things he needs, like a ride around town, like a place to live, like clothes to wear, like all of everything that contributing citizens have to accomplish, really, why in the world would I do that over and over and over again? </p><p></p><p>Well, I'll tell you why. I did it to make myself feel better. I was in agony over him. And just the idea that I would refuse my own child (I still saw him as a precious, chubby three year old then, even though he was nearly 25) was intolerable to me. I could not even entertain the idea. Why, he was going homeless? He as going to be arrested? He was taking drugs? He was going to jail? Not my child. Not while I have breath in my body. So Landshark, I danced and danced and danced, trying to fix him and help him and prop him up and take care of him, because I could not tolerate doing anything else. <em>It was on me. </em></p><p></p><p>Until the day finally came, finally, when I got sick and tired enough. I mean sick to the core of me. I mean tired to the core of me. So sick and tired of the same endless merry go round where I did and did and did, and he took and took and took. So tired of living a life of complete insanity when it came to my son. Well, even a mother gets tired. Even a mother.</p><p></p><p>So I would suggest these things to think on:</p><p></p><p>1. You have a choice. You always have a choice. </p><p>2. You will have to be sick and tired enough to make a different choice.</p><p>3. If you make that different choice, once you are sick and tired enough, you will have to do a whole lot of hard work to change. Every day. I mean, it's the hardest work you will have ever done. </p><p>4. You will still slip. You will still do enabling things for her. It's just that hard to totally change. And that is perfectly okay to slip and make mistakes. </p><p>5. And I believe this: you will start, over time, to be able to let go of her. To detach with love. To start to accept her, no matter how ugly and how awful her situation and life look to you. And through that process, you will become happier, more joyful, more serene, more contented, more at peace. Not with her. With yourself. </p><p>6. You are just as important as she is. If she is a grown woman, it's time for her to be a grown woman, whatever that looks like.</p><p>7. And it's time for us to let them go. </p><p></p><p>There is no perfection here, Landshark, just progress along my own path that I believe God put me on a long time ago. I am a better person today for this whole awful terrible horrible experience with my precious son. </p><p></p><p>There is no judgment here. I am sharing with you what I have learned over the past years. Please, take what you like and leave the rest. I have so much compassion for you and for all who write here, and respect for your choices as an adult yourself. We can only do what we can live with.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Childofmine, post: 628378, member: 17542"] Hi Landshark, and welcome. Wow, your daughter sounds a lot like the rest of the adults we talk about on this board. And regardless of her diagnosis or lack of diagnosis, I am gathering she is an adult. I'd like to answer the three very real and legitimate questions you posted above, as I have answered them for myself. 1. You do [I]want[/I] to help someone who, for whatever reason, doesn't live the life of an adult. You do[I] feel [/I]sorry for that person. At least for a while, and for most of us, a very very long while, and maybe even a little bit now, from time to time. But feelings aren't facts. That is a truth I learned in Al-Anon and it has taken me a long, long time to unpack that truth and understand it for what it is. I used to think if I felt something it must be true. I feel sad so the situation must be sad. I feel like my son is helpless so he must be helpless. I feel like my son is not able to do something so he must not be able to do something. Not anymore. My feelings are still my valid and true feelings and I have to feel them, honor them and not stuff them down or cast them aside. But I don't have to act on them. That is my [B][U]choice.[/U][/B] 2. I have done and still do some little things for my son. I choose to do them. I truly like to do things that he doesn't ask me to do, as a surprise, but I also still sometimes do things he asks me to do. Sometimes I still do things for him he should be doing for himself. And that is where I believe I go wrong. That is a seminal question to ask ourselves, every single time: Are we about to do something for somebody (a difficult child) that they should be doing for themself? If the answer is Yes, then I want to stop. Because if I don't stop, I am taking away that person's dignity and adulthood (even more), their chance to face the direct consequences of their choices, and perhaps even, I am delaying or blocking that reality check they need, right now, to help them get closer to their rock bottom. I may be outright harming them. And haven't we all (them and us) had enough harm? 3. There are [I]kindnesses[/I] and then there are the[I] daily activities of living[/I] that every adult should be responsible for. (I am not talking about seriously mentally or physically incapacitated people here, people who truly, honestly, can't do things for themselves. My own sister was blind and disabled with an incurable bone disease. Even she helped around the house and did what she could and our family not only let her, but encouraged her. Her doctors said that is exactly why she lived as long as she did. But I digress.) My son, Landshark, can spend all day walking around town, finding where the free food is, applying for food stamps, checking out books on WWII at the library and wash his own clothes at the shelter, yet he can't get a job? No, he won't get a job. Let's put the right verbs in the sentences. Can't or won't? A kindness is something you choose to do for someone---a bunch of flowers, a special treat you baked, even a load of laundry---because you want to, and it is a gift. Doing somebody's laundry for them because they have chosen not to do it for six months isn't a kindness, in my humble opinion. Why is that? Is it truly (and I mean truly here) because she can't? Or is because she won't? For the past year, my son has either been in rehab, homeless or in jail. He was kicked out of his dad's house one year ago this week, and he truly has not laid his head in anybody's home---his or otherwise---since that time. What he seems to care about only is living a life completely outside the rules and responsibilities of society. He steals, he takes drugs, he gets arrested, he goes to rehab because I manipulated him into going to rehab, he makes excuses, he is a very sweet and loving person, and Landshark, I am starting to believe he likes this life. That he is choosing this life and is comfortable in this life. And if that is the case, then okay. But he will have to take the very natural and real consequences of choosing that life, and I am working on me today, so that I can accept him with love, regardless of what kind of life he chooses. So in my case, Landshark, I believe it is because he won't. To further unpack it, if a person won't go by the rules and responsibilities of society, then why in the world would I take on those responsibilities for them, i.e., washing clothes regularly, giving him the things he needs, like a ride around town, like a place to live, like clothes to wear, like all of everything that contributing citizens have to accomplish, really, why in the world would I do that over and over and over again? Well, I'll tell you why. I did it to make myself feel better. I was in agony over him. And just the idea that I would refuse my own child (I still saw him as a precious, chubby three year old then, even though he was nearly 25) was intolerable to me. I could not even entertain the idea. Why, he was going homeless? He as going to be arrested? He was taking drugs? He was going to jail? Not my child. Not while I have breath in my body. So Landshark, I danced and danced and danced, trying to fix him and help him and prop him up and take care of him, because I could not tolerate doing anything else. [I]It was on me. [/I] Until the day finally came, finally, when I got sick and tired enough. I mean sick to the core of me. I mean tired to the core of me. So sick and tired of the same endless merry go round where I did and did and did, and he took and took and took. So tired of living a life of complete insanity when it came to my son. Well, even a mother gets tired. Even a mother. So I would suggest these things to think on: 1. You have a choice. You always have a choice. 2. You will have to be sick and tired enough to make a different choice. 3. If you make that different choice, once you are sick and tired enough, you will have to do a whole lot of hard work to change. Every day. I mean, it's the hardest work you will have ever done. 4. You will still slip. You will still do enabling things for her. It's just that hard to totally change. And that is perfectly okay to slip and make mistakes. 5. And I believe this: you will start, over time, to be able to let go of her. To detach with love. To start to accept her, no matter how ugly and how awful her situation and life look to you. And through that process, you will become happier, more joyful, more serene, more contented, more at peace. Not with her. With yourself. 6. You are just as important as she is. If she is a grown woman, it's time for her to be a grown woman, whatever that looks like. 7. And it's time for us to let them go. There is no perfection here, Landshark, just progress along my own path that I believe God put me on a long time ago. I am a better person today for this whole awful terrible horrible experience with my precious son. There is no judgment here. I am sharing with you what I have learned over the past years. Please, take what you like and leave the rest. I have so much compassion for you and for all who write here, and respect for your choices as an adult yourself. We can only do what we can live with. [/QUOTE]
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