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Update: Detachment as Spiritual Practice, and an Update
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<blockquote data-quote="Echolette" data-source="post: 613675" data-attributes="member: 17269"><p>I'll start with this...thank you for posting it. "The difference between enabling and helping is so remarkably small that it is a distinction easy to miss."</p><p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">Right now I can't even afford to help. I can't go near even kindness to him. I want to kick him when I see him begging on the street. I want to rip his sign out of his hands and insist that he change it to "I already binged my way through my SSI, please give me more of your hard earned dollars because I am a useless piece of ****".</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">I can't afford to help because I'll drown. Not sure if I will drown in rage or sadness. </span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">I was so committed for so long to being sure, that, at a minimum, he felt loved, valued, by some one, by me. Now I can't dredge up any of that..when I see him my face hardens, I can't smile. I cannot allow myself a kind moment between us because I will get sucked in again.</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">I liked the comment that we on this page are at the end of our parenting, our best years behind us, our years of hope and trying over with. I think part of the reason I joined this group with the explosive assertion that I was going to kill myself is that..(well first it is because I was crazed) and part of the crazed is that I've run out of things to do. All the counsellours, the teachers, the therapists, the mentors, the know it alls, the school coaches, the wilderness leaders, all of them, I always had some one to talk to, some one to run things by, some one to get mad at for not helping my difficult child enough, some one to blame, to demand of, to call, a new person to identify for a new role I hadn't tried yet. And now....nothing.No new routes to explore. No posse of concerned (mostly paid) adults. Not even the difficult child anymore...he is 99% absent as well, after using up all the air for so long. It feels like falling, like all the supports I was using to hold myself up went away.</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">Cedar...the realization that your kid or kids are...ew. I have to relearn, revisit that relatively new thought every day. My difficult child gets asked to leave diners even when he has money. He stinks. He looks creepy. He takes money and food from people who work for it. He does nothing to better himself. He came over a few weeks ago and I was watching a zombie tv show with his brothers. Afterwards I told him...if there were to be an apocolypse, a failure of resources, if we all had to start from scratch...I wouldn't want him around, because he would bring nothing. That he brings nothing now. That he only takes. That (sticking to the apocolypse theme) that he would have to be thrown out and left to die, because all he can do is sap resources. I was steady and calm about it. I just said it was so. That it had been so for 2 years, since he left school at 17 abnd started living on the streets. </span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">I had to say it to him because I had never ever said it to myself. I always thought, Cedar, that he would grow up to be the fine young man we had intended, maybe the quirky talented musician, maybe the kind counsellour...but not this narcissistic filthy dirty taker.</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">The good thing out of this is that I can see how awfully much I tried to control everyone, and letting go of that is certainly good for my PCs. and for everyone around me. I've come a long way on that one.</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">One of the many bad things is that as I see my two teenage sons develop school resistance, and remember that that was the smoking gun with David...I can feel a yawning combination of panic and despair, like a cauldron opening in front of me. And on those days I cannot stay away from...what is wrong with me??? what did I do wrong? how did I ruin these people?</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">But the PCs are not the difficult child, they are stubborn foolish charming boys who aren't as good in school as they should be. They have no traces of difficult child's social incapacity.</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">but then I wonder...what did I do to him? am I doing it to them?</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">and then I have to shake my head hard and turn to reading the stories and thoughts that you all share.</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000">thank you for that.</span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: #000000"></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Echolette, post: 613675, member: 17269"] I'll start with this...thank you for posting it. "The difference between enabling and helping is so remarkably small that it is a distinction easy to miss." [LEFT][COLOR=#000000] Right now I can't even afford to help. I can't go near even kindness to him. I want to kick him when I see him begging on the street. I want to rip his sign out of his hands and insist that he change it to "I already binged my way through my SSI, please give me more of your hard earned dollars because I am a useless piece of ****". I can't afford to help because I'll drown. Not sure if I will drown in rage or sadness. I was so committed for so long to being sure, that, at a minimum, he felt loved, valued, by some one, by me. Now I can't dredge up any of that..when I see him my face hardens, I can't smile. I cannot allow myself a kind moment between us because I will get sucked in again. I liked the comment that we on this page are at the end of our parenting, our best years behind us, our years of hope and trying over with. I think part of the reason I joined this group with the explosive assertion that I was going to kill myself is that..(well first it is because I was crazed) and part of the crazed is that I've run out of things to do. All the counsellours, the teachers, the therapists, the mentors, the know it alls, the school coaches, the wilderness leaders, all of them, I always had some one to talk to, some one to run things by, some one to get mad at for not helping my difficult child enough, some one to blame, to demand of, to call, a new person to identify for a new role I hadn't tried yet. And now....nothing.No new routes to explore. No posse of concerned (mostly paid) adults. Not even the difficult child anymore...he is 99% absent as well, after using up all the air for so long. It feels like falling, like all the supports I was using to hold myself up went away. Cedar...the realization that your kid or kids are...ew. I have to relearn, revisit that relatively new thought every day. My difficult child gets asked to leave diners even when he has money. He stinks. He looks creepy. He takes money and food from people who work for it. He does nothing to better himself. He came over a few weeks ago and I was watching a zombie tv show with his brothers. Afterwards I told him...if there were to be an apocolypse, a failure of resources, if we all had to start from scratch...I wouldn't want him around, because he would bring nothing. That he brings nothing now. That he only takes. That (sticking to the apocolypse theme) that he would have to be thrown out and left to die, because all he can do is sap resources. I was steady and calm about it. I just said it was so. That it had been so for 2 years, since he left school at 17 abnd started living on the streets. I had to say it to him because I had never ever said it to myself. I always thought, Cedar, that he would grow up to be the fine young man we had intended, maybe the quirky talented musician, maybe the kind counsellour...but not this narcissistic filthy dirty taker. The good thing out of this is that I can see how awfully much I tried to control everyone, and letting go of that is certainly good for my PCs. and for everyone around me. I've come a long way on that one. One of the many bad things is that as I see my two teenage sons develop school resistance, and remember that that was the smoking gun with David...I can feel a yawning combination of panic and despair, like a cauldron opening in front of me. And on those days I cannot stay away from...what is wrong with me??? what did I do wrong? how did I ruin these people? But the PCs are not the difficult child, they are stubborn foolish charming boys who aren't as good in school as they should be. They have no traces of difficult child's social incapacity. but then I wonder...what did I do to him? am I doing it to them? and then I have to shake my head hard and turn to reading the stories and thoughts that you all share. thank you for that. [/COLOR][/LEFT] [/QUOTE]
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