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<blockquote data-quote="Echolette" data-source="post: 689667" data-attributes="member: 17269"><p>Copa,</p><p></p><p>I am here. I log on and read through things sometimes, and when I think I have anything to offer I chime in. Mostly I don't have much to say. My younger boys are getting older, they will graduate from high school in two weeks and leave home at the end of the summer. My ex and I are pals. MY SO and I are settled and pretty calm. I go to work. I run, I go to the farmer's markets, I feed the people I love. I'm more comfortable now with being committed to those things as part of a whole life for me, rather than distractions. There is nothing more valuable to me than spending a Saturday afternoon preparing food for that day and for the week for the people I love.</p><p></p><p>My son...well...things haven't gone well there. He has spent the last year in jail. He did get transferred to mental health court, and once there was a bed in an inpatient facility he was transferred there. He ran away once...twice...three times. His public defender walked the streets looking for him. Their caseworker drove him back to the facility and sat with him. The facility took him back...but not the fourth time. That was in September. So a warrant was issued, he was picked up for public urination, booked, and went back to jail. Long story short the same thing repeated itself in April...discharged to detox, thrown out for smoking pot with his roommate, on the streets in our fair city, went to a recovery house, left, went back...and on and on. Once again, a bench warrant for his arrest (issued this morning).</p><p></p><p>He was very sweet in jail. He called for 5 minutes a day. I took his calls most days. He seemed clear, and sane. PDDIsh, but sane. He had some insight, and some aspirations. He read a lot of books (reading was hard for him). He got a job washing dishes. Even when he knew he was getting released and wouldn't be there to get paid, he kept going because he said it helped pass the time and he liked being useful. </p><p></p><p>I saw him when he was between placements, sort of on the lam on the streets. He is skinny, dirty, and scared. He covers it with his wide goofy grin. He declined a ride. He declined money. He accepted some magazines and a sandwich and a kitkat bar.</p><p></p><p>I can feel myself once again in the grip of the widening gyre. The fearful and bottomless sadness that can consume us. I am not consumed, but it is a struggle to push it off. I ache for him, for his lostness, his hopelessness, his foolishness, his terrible decisions. Mentally ill, addicted, slow processing, habitual slacker liar and thief. Thats my boy. He can't see his way out. His last facebook post was "I am waiting for a subway to nowhere." I am just in suspension, once again wondering if he is alive, knowing there is nothing to be done.</p><p></p><p>So that is where I am. I guess...for the newbies...all I can say is that I am alive. I have hours and days of joy, people I love. I love him. I miss him. I fear for him. But ....mostly...those things have their place and I can go on with my work and my family and the farmers markets and meal prep and the running and the smiling at the other people I love. It is what it is. I think he knows I love him. That has to be enough for now. </p><p></p><p>Thank you for asking, Copa. I just saw your post today...it is on the second page on my screen, and I had completely missed it. I've admired your personal and unique journey. You bring a lot to this place. </p><p></p><p>Echo</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Echolette, post: 689667, member: 17269"] Copa, I am here. I log on and read through things sometimes, and when I think I have anything to offer I chime in. Mostly I don't have much to say. My younger boys are getting older, they will graduate from high school in two weeks and leave home at the end of the summer. My ex and I are pals. MY SO and I are settled and pretty calm. I go to work. I run, I go to the farmer's markets, I feed the people I love. I'm more comfortable now with being committed to those things as part of a whole life for me, rather than distractions. There is nothing more valuable to me than spending a Saturday afternoon preparing food for that day and for the week for the people I love. My son...well...things haven't gone well there. He has spent the last year in jail. He did get transferred to mental health court, and once there was a bed in an inpatient facility he was transferred there. He ran away once...twice...three times. His public defender walked the streets looking for him. Their caseworker drove him back to the facility and sat with him. The facility took him back...but not the fourth time. That was in September. So a warrant was issued, he was picked up for public urination, booked, and went back to jail. Long story short the same thing repeated itself in April...discharged to detox, thrown out for smoking pot with his roommate, on the streets in our fair city, went to a recovery house, left, went back...and on and on. Once again, a bench warrant for his arrest (issued this morning). He was very sweet in jail. He called for 5 minutes a day. I took his calls most days. He seemed clear, and sane. PDDIsh, but sane. He had some insight, and some aspirations. He read a lot of books (reading was hard for him). He got a job washing dishes. Even when he knew he was getting released and wouldn't be there to get paid, he kept going because he said it helped pass the time and he liked being useful. I saw him when he was between placements, sort of on the lam on the streets. He is skinny, dirty, and scared. He covers it with his wide goofy grin. He declined a ride. He declined money. He accepted some magazines and a sandwich and a kitkat bar. I can feel myself once again in the grip of the widening gyre. The fearful and bottomless sadness that can consume us. I am not consumed, but it is a struggle to push it off. I ache for him, for his lostness, his hopelessness, his foolishness, his terrible decisions. Mentally ill, addicted, slow processing, habitual slacker liar and thief. Thats my boy. He can't see his way out. His last facebook post was "I am waiting for a subway to nowhere." I am just in suspension, once again wondering if he is alive, knowing there is nothing to be done. So that is where I am. I guess...for the newbies...all I can say is that I am alive. I have hours and days of joy, people I love. I love him. I miss him. I fear for him. But ....mostly...those things have their place and I can go on with my work and my family and the farmers markets and meal prep and the running and the smiling at the other people I love. It is what it is. I think he knows I love him. That has to be enough for now. Thank you for asking, Copa. I just saw your post today...it is on the second page on my screen, and I had completely missed it. I've admired your personal and unique journey. You bring a lot to this place. Echo [/QUOTE]
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