A little bit of hope.


Well-Known Member
sometimes we just need that little window of hope
Thank you Tanya. Isn't that the truth? A little window of hope. I thought that people here would be shaking their head at me, me, unable still to let go. Why? Because I am disgusted with myself that I am still at this. That is the real truth of things.

I am so very grateful for the compassion I find here. Susan
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Well-Known Member
if we are holding our breath waiting to see if they will at least succeed at a small goal.
to have to try to orchestrate their success at life
I don't know what to write. Because part of me feels like I am failing. And part of me feels like I'm growing stronger. How to reconcile these two things? I can't.

M and I went to the metro today for Yom Kippur, the most holy day in my faith. I am embarrassed to say that like always a 25 percent of our conversation even on this most sacred of days, was about J, my son (more so on the way there, than coming home.) Trying to figure out his motivations; wondering what he will do and not do; wondering how we will respond; wondering why this time of all of the times, he's following through with something. What changed?

Are we stronger? No, we decided. M's idea is that my son knows we are serious. I wonder if that is it.

Our situation together has become so attenuated, the path so narrow, that we have been left with no more choices, and consequently, my son, too, lacks choices. I am reading a good book. I like Louis L'Amour westerns. I am reading Guns of the Timberlands. The main character has a homestead, and he built his home right in the middle of the road, which is a canyon. A man who wants to invade his land and rob the timber cannot enter, except through his house, which has turrets from which to shoot, all who try to pass.

That's where we have arrived. Like the saying, "over my dead body." It's not that we got stronger. There's no force at all involved. In fact, we got weaker. There is no fighting. We've laid down our arms. We've prostrated ourselves, actually. We've surrendered. Maybe that's the word. But we haven't surrendered to my son. Our lives and our bodies and the road have become all the same thing. And in so doing, it seems my son might have (praise G-d) arrived in the same place.

I am not sure how to conclude this post. All of this day, this holiest of days, for me, was about letting go--of worries, of wants, goals, of time. We were at an urban farm with goats and chickens and beautiful plants, and beautiful music, and 300 people under canopies, in tents, most strangers, all together--with G-d.

Which I think is what I want to say in this post. What is different today, than yesterday, is letting go of the struggles. At least for today, I've laid down my arms and (I hope) I've surrendered to what is and to what will be. Which I think JP is the message of your post.

Up until right now I have thought that all of it was about what to do or not to do. And it's not. It's about return to the real power, and living there. I vow this year to come I will practice living from this place. Thank you, all of you, for your support.
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Sending good vibes...
You are a pillar of strength for this forum and I know you will and are working through this.

Here's a couple of things that I've learned so far on this long journey I'm on, which I'm not sure ever ends.

When we say, "I don't know what to do", it usually means we are afraid to make a choice. At a deeper level, we do not know what to do but we are afraid of making mistakes or what others will think if we carry out our own solutions.

I also found when we admit we may not know everything (surrender) we open the door to increased knowledge and solutions to our problems.

Of course, I don't know all the details of your life's goings on but from what I've read you have given your son yet another "tool" to succeed. Don't beat yourself up for having such a kind heart. It is so very, very hard to surrender. I don't think surrendering is a one time deal. At least not for me. I must do it over and over and over again.

Also, I try to be more aware of how my mind seeks anxiously for an answer or relief and for reassurance that the problems at hand will be extinguished. It hurts like a knife in my heart to see my sons not fulfill their potential. But I have to ask myself, are they? Maybe this is just the way God wants them to get to that point. If we all started out perfect what would be our goal? It's not what I want but I think it's what God wants and He definitely works in mysterious ways.

As well, as part of my surrender (NOT EASY) I say to myself, "What if I do not need the kind of answers that I assume I do?" I stick with that. I do nothing else and await the new solutions that will be revealed to me through my intuition and also by watching other's finally take a little responsibility for their lives. I realized I'm on one speed and that is "full speed ahead" whereas my sons appear to be in third gear (or no gear sometimes). It is hard pulling back and waiting for our loved ones to finally "get it" or at least begin to get it. That's really where I think our surrendering comes in. It doesn't mean we have to surrender our caring, loving concern and sometimes guidance too but it does mean, we have to let them figure this out in their own time.

As parents we just want our kids to get to the finish line when in reality there's a lot for them to be learned while getting there and for US too for that matter.


Active Member
It's hard to hold onto hope. The reality is I'm afraid to hope. I get panic stricken. But I realize that's all we really have.

I can relate to this, as I’m sure everyone else can as well. It’s like we are consistently waiting for the other shoe to drop. But still, you hold onto hope because sometimes that’s all you have left.

So I will have hope for you, that he continues his new position. I hope that he sees success from this and sees what he is missing. I hope for you, that things go well.

Tanya M

Living with an attitude of gratitude
Staff member
I thought that people here would be shaking their head at me, me, unable still to let go.
While each of our journeys share similarities, they are still a unique journey to each of us.
It may be very easy for some to let go and "shut the door" and for others it may take years. The simple truth is there are no right or wrong answers when it comes to dealing with our adult children and the love we have for them. Sure, it's easier to detach when they break the law or are a threat to our safety but that's not always the case. Even then, some parents just have a hard time letting go.
I've detached from my son successfully but I will always have that 1% of hope that I hold onto that someday............... things might be different.
What I do know is that none of us can stand in judgment of another parents choice in how they choose to deal with their adult child.
I honor you Copa for the deep love and devotion you have for your son. I hope and pray that your son will someday really see how blessed he is to have you.


Well-Known Member

I sure am glad I have this thread.

Two nights in a row my son smoked marijuana in the yard, which was the biggest "no." He had taken (again) M's food and bottled water, which too, is a "no" with the excuse that M had left and he did not have a key to secure the house to go to the store.

Both M and I had come to the anticipated conclusion that he would not have any verification of having worked this week. He had begun to make excuses as to why there was no "proof." And there was all of this talk about how wonderful this opportunity was for him. How "great" he was doing. All of it, didn't hold together. But nonetheless, I held back and so did M, until today, which would have been the day he promised to bring a week's worth of verification of having "worked."

This morning, he did not get up to leave. And as I said, there was the marijuana last night. After I had spoken to him last night about the betrayal of that. He did it again. That I would help him by letting him stay rent free, and with the money he saved, he would buy marijuana. I had tried to explain to him the moral compromise of that on his part, and by inference, how I was supporting him to compromise himself and me.

So. All of it came together. M went back to the house late morning, and there he was in the yard. When M returned we decided that M would handle the situation but I would call J and arrange a way for M to bring him his things.

I was not mad. Strangely, there is a sense of peace. It goes back to my post of Wednesday night. That place of surrender to what is, to the reality of things, where I have no power or control. Life has brought us to this place, this canyon, where there is only one way to go.

My son called, and began this huge theatre of a medical emergency. Of lacking strength to meet M or to return to the house for his stuff. Quite dramatically he took a magnesium pill and recovered enough to resume the conversation. I expressed sympathy, but told him if he was unable to meet M, I would tell M to put his stuff in a bag, and lock it in the garage, but under no circumstances was he to return to the property. (There is little chance he will respect this request, but I am grateful to M for trying to shield me.)

His medical "emergency" (I asked him if he overdosed) only affirmed that there is nowhere more to go with him. The cruelty of that. My son is not a cruel person. But he has come to act from a cruel place. Believing if he presents as a victim, all what he has perpetrated will be swept aside. How could a loving mother support this degradation by her child? I am called upon to see this as it is, what it is.

He's got to find moral strength himself, to rise from this. I can't do it for him.

I know I will not let him in if he comes here, and if he enters my yard, I will call the police. I will let M handle the other house.

Strangely, I feel a sense of peace. As I told M, we've traveled down every road, many times. There are no roads left. There is no self-deception left that we can pretend that any of these roads can lead to a positive result. M spoke about the reality that my son would still blame us, as lacking humanity, of expecting perfection, of not tolerating even a minor mistake.

I know this is not true.

I know that M still has in him a store of "trying." I don't believe I do.

Maybe the correct thing is to say, I still do, too; I still have "trying" left in me. What I don't have is a way to justify more trying. If my "help" is only helping him compromise himself further, and compromise me and M, why would I, why should I, "help" more?

I feel minorly sad. Somewhat worried. Vulnerable. But I don't feel indecisive. I don't feel torn. I've let go of all of the struggle. Nothing is left to say.
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New Leaf

Well-Known Member
Hi Copa,
So sorry for your troubled heart and ongoing challenges with your son. It is indeed a difficult road we walk, wanting the best for our adult children, perhaps more than they do. That is the struggle as we watch with horror, the situations our beloveds get in to, wondering how the heck they tolerate the consequences of their choices.
I am more convinced than ever that our own individual universe is a series of events meant to teach us, to help us grow, and repetitive patterns are training us to seek different ways to deal with circumstances.
My Hoku has a favorite quote attributed to Einstein “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.” Okay, true, but life sure has a way of smacking us upside our heads that sends us reeling towards old paths, memories, triggers, reactions. Repetition for emphasis.
It is hard to let go. So hard.These are our people. Our children who we raised and loved, still love, yes made mistakes along the way, but how in the heck did it all go so wrong?
My grandson in a fit of rage, glared at me and said “Why didn’t you raise your daughter better?” My initial reaction was anger, that touched a soft spot for sure, but then I heard myself say “I did the best job I could, the reality is that people grow up and make their own choices.”
To be honest dear sister, each time I have read here that your son is moving back again, I feel, not judgement, more like “uh oh here we go again” perhaps because there is an underlying guilt within that somehow I did not try enough. (Then I have to remind myself that there was and is a real danger to engaging with my two.)
I do see big differences through the years in how you are managing the emotional hardships, setting boundaries and rules for your son and following through with consequences. Each time, you are getting stronger, which in turn benefits your son tremendously.
Life seems to be this dance, with relationships and obstacles, triumphs and defeats, all pointing towards a testing of our own resilience, hopefully leading us to self discovery and recovery. For us, and perhaps our beloveds.
I still believe that the stronger we are, the more determined we are to set healthy boundaries for ourselves, the more our adult children see that example as a possibility for themselves to reach their own potential. We have no control over their choices, but we are able to control how we respond. That takes time and trying and not trying.
You’ve got this Copa. There is no one answer, no one way, no perfect solution dealing with our troubled adult children. But maybe, just maybe through all of the heartache and suffering, we are learning ways to honor ourselves, to rebuild, change, adapt and grow into our best self.
I pray for peace within your heart.
Much love and
New Leaf


Well-Known Member
Hello Copa and everyone,
I have arrived at my destination for my vacation and just read to get caught up here.

Copa, these are great changes! I do find that when I set my boundaries and stick to them (despite being afraid of doing that), my DCs respond with respect and movement towards the right direction. And it sounds like that is what happened here. You set a boundary and your son took action . Him saying that being homeless is not fun anymore, smoking less MJ - I see growth and a willingness to see things differently within him.

I think volunteering (and sharing your gifts) goes a long way in feeling that we are contributing to society. Your son is of service right now . It will increase his self esteem and his sense of belonging with society. When we share our gifts, good things come back to us.

I think its important to be hopeful even if it's uncomfortable. We grow by becoming comfortable with being uncomfortable. Compassion which is the remedy for shame consists of encouragement and understanding. Encouragement requires some hope, I believe . Your son is stretching his growing muscles right now, and encouragement can also mean that I stretch mine along with my young adults.

I get the need to shut down. To view things on opposite ends of a spectrum rather than looking in the middle of it . One day at a time is good. Accepting that which is happening in the present moment. And staying present with ourselves in the now. Rather than shutting down stretching towards accepting feelings without a need to change or fix them. Breathing into the present and observing my thoughts, feelings and my ways of wanting to abandon myself with coping mechanisms without judgement. And then not acting on the coping mechanisms.

When I am able to stay in the moment with myself , I see that I can tolerate my feelings. Meditation practice has helped me a great deal with this , accessing the stillness inside of me. Over time I have become more easily able to let the feelings melt into the expansiveness of the stillness. It's a turning over to my Higher Power process within me

I hope you give yourself a big pat on the back. You acted bravely and with courage, you tolerated fear and anxiety, you moved forward with courage. These are all role modeling to your son how to deal with life .

I will pray for you and your son. Sending love!


Well-Known Member
Staff member
I had to peruse some of this due to a headache. But I see there are likely some issues with him continuing the volunteer work and proof of hours.

I saw the word “hope.” That word can trigger me. It is such a mixed bag. After all , shouldn’t we have hope for our children? It “got” me every time. Just when she seemed to or seems to be improving, something hugely disappointing occurs. I suspect you are going through something similar. Forgive me if I’m off base.

Recently, for me personally, I’m going with a slightly “different” approach. I still “hope” she does better and learns from her errors etc, but I don’t put much energy into it. Maybe I can’t truly use the word “hope,” like one would use it traditionally. Maybe “it would be nice, it would be best, it would be a very nice thing to see...” I can’t control another person. So, “hope” in the traditional sense is not exactly “it.” I can no longer get personally invested in any outcome. I say this, but I have my bad moments...

Also...maybe a little similar to what you might go through are the ideas re helping or not helping. Ugh. This conversation in some weird way comes up almost daily. We have strict boundaries (good!) but there are a few occasions when we loosen up. She absolutely needs to abide by the boundaries and is slow to understand when something is a legit exception OR might abuse (lie) to make something seem like a legit exception. Right now we are just playing our cards:

1. Set boundaries
2. VERY rarely budge
3. Will consider budge on a rare exception which we will try to verify. Otherwise...no exception.
4. Repeat
5. As best as possible keep emotions out of it
6. As much as possible and as appropriate, be polite and kind to difficult adult child
7. Enhance boundaries...pull out logical consequences for inappropriate behaviors.

I hope this makes a little sense. I’m a little stronger this second. But I have days that I’m not.

This site is so helpful. You’ve been very helpful to me and many others.

This is a burden few fully understand.
I did read you have a sense of peace...this is very good.

Please keep us posted.


Well-Known Member

I don't have "hope" anymore either. I am a lot like Nomad. in the "it would be nice" category. And I am too dead tired of my daughters lack of motivation to be invested in her outcome anymore. Tired, tired, tired.

I get it for those of us who no longer can feel much hope, but I don't wish anyone else to get to this point. There is a time,in my opinion, when you have to move on and give your child completely to your Higher Power.

That doesn't mean you HAVE to have no hope. But don't feel ashamed if you start losing hope either. We do all we can to jump start them and we have to forgive ourselves if the day comes when we have to focus on other people and other things.
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Well-Known Member
Thank you everybody for your responses. Which are heartfelt and wise. I want to center my response on a couple of themes, mainly hope, and trying. I think we all beat ourselves up so much about these two things.
I think its important to be hopeful even if it's uncomfortable.
the word “hope.” That word can trigger me. It is such a mixed bag
I don't have "hope" anymore
I have been all over the place with hope. A few years ago I remember writing I hated "hope." I have come to see that the way I hoped was a set up. I gave control over hope to my son, by defining hope as something that only he had control over. In this hope was a dependent variable. Hope was only possible, if my son acted in ways that I believed to be hopeful, whatever these are.

For example, at that time hope would have been going to the liver doctor, acting cooperative, wanting to work, etc. None of this happened. So hope became dangerous. And I divorced hope.

When I read Nomad's comment about her ambivalence about hope, and being triggered, I am thinking here about B's Mom and her thread about "grief." How every new trial or diagnosis causes waves of grief which feel never-ending. I guess I thought about hope in the same way. That hope was a club. That kept hitting me over the head. Hope was a cruel joke.

Then I began to take spirituality seriousness, and I learned for the first time in my life, that attitude, at the end of the day, is all we have. And it's independent of a result. In fact, hope is the result. If I give up hope, I've lost the best thing I have going for me. When I have nothing left at all, I can still have hope. Not for the future, not for somebody else, but in the present. Just because hope feels so good, and is so good. Hope is a present that I can give myself. Hope doesn't have to be anything more than the smile that comes to my lips. When I think the word. I want to die like that. With hope and a smile on my lips. Why not?

Why would we let a reality that sucks, take away our hope? Hope is ours to have.

Now. Here's the real kicker. If I can hold onto hope in the present, I am renewed. I can be present with my child. And the world can change, if I see and feel things this way. Because I love my son. My relationship with my son is not ONLY about what he does, and how he functions, and his results. My relationship with my son is my love for him, and the emotional depth and resources and wisdom I can share with him, and what I can receive from him in return. If I have allowed myself to see hope as a bad joke, I have lost all of that. And I have lost myself.

Now. I recognize that our relationships with our children become so sour and curdled that this is no longer available to us. When there has been abuse and drugs, for example.

Which leads me to the second topic I wanted to address in relationship to your posts. Trying. On another thread we have been talking about being blamed and judged by others. I personally have been judged and blamed for not trying enough, and trying too much. I have blamed and judged myself for both, too.

Before I talk more about trying, I want to tell you something that my Rabbi told me. In one of our talks a month or so ago, I said something like "I've tried so, so hard." It was kind of victim, feel sorry for myself thing to say. Kind of like, Oh, poor me, I've tried, so, so hard. And look. How I've suffered.

Her response was: We are really good tryers.

I think this is Wise's point, or part of it. I thought I quoted it, but I can't find it. I think she said something like, instead of seeing life in terms of taking actions, or responses, it's can be about standing still.

OK. Here I found one of the quotes:
You set a boundary and your son took action
This was about NOT doing anything. Like New Leaf says. And here:
We grow by becoming comfortable with being uncomfortable.
Not responding. Not reacting. The growth here, is in me.

I tried this today, before I read these posts. I spoke with my son, who I had repeated asked not to squat. And as I was speaking to him on the phone, unbeknownst to me, he was squatting.

This is the MOST triggering thing my son does. I mean we have had trauma around this. And police. And PTSD. And I sat with the feelings. And I was able to stay engaged with my son.

So. Maybe this is HOPE. Maybe NOT trying. Can be hope. Maybe staying quiet and keeping space open IS HOPE.
underlying guilt within that somehow I did not try enough.
I want to comment to New Leaf. New Leaf. Your daughters have been taken over, colonized by drugs. They are not operating in a way that they can hear you, can be present with you. They abuse you, because their secondary process, their conscience, their higher functioning has been commandeered by drugs, combined with their lifestyle. Busy. Kay seems to be in the same place.

With drugs and abuse, how can you question the choice to pull away? What good could come of it? This is not abandonment of a child. This is necessary pulling away to survive. We are of no use to anybody or to ourselves, destroyed. How is it that we still question (and punish) ourselves, for choosing to survive?

And is it right that I feel shame and failure that I stay in the ring? Why? This is wrong of me.
That takes time and trying and not trying.
What I want to say is that in each of us, me, and each of you, we are so so ready to jump in and beat ourselves over the head, for trying, not trying, hope and no hope. It's CRAZY. We blame ourselves for every permutation of this, along the spectrum of possibilities. We compare ourselves to each other, as if, if one of us does it differently, it calls into question what we do and have done. I know all of us have generosity and compassion for each other. But do we for ourselves, to the extent we should?
There is a time, in my opinion, when you have to move on and give your child completely to your Higher Power.
I think this is tremendously wise. But I think I can continue to engage with my son, and continue to offer support, while work as hard as I can to turn over my child to his Higher Power, and the power in his life that will come. I am NOT my son's Higher Power.
“uh oh here we go again”
I feel this way too. But If I no longer take this on either as my own personal failure or my son's, I can step outside of shame and doubt.

It can be a place of neutrality.
(and sharing your gifts) goes a long way in feeling that we are contributing to society.
service...It will increase his self esteem and his sense of belonging with society.
Thank you Wise. I have been thinking more and more about going back to work. In 7 years I have worked only 3 months. Since my mother got ill and died. What is helping to make the shift, for me is this. Service. Sharing gifts. Belonging to society. I am no longer so caught up in my own private conversations, which loop around and around, and confuse me and end up nowhere....

Thank you very much all of you.
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Well-Known Member
This was very useful writing out what I just did. Above. Here I will cut to the chase. I am talking to my son. I will not let him back. He slept in the yard last night. He squatted too. These are big no not otherwise specified.

The gist of our conversing: We asked for verification of work in order to stay. We said no marijuana. There is rent to be paid. You are responsible to learn to manage your money. To learn and follow through with cleanliness and productivity. You're responsible for that. There is help and support available to learn these skills, and to help with sobriety, and personal transformation. These require decisions and follow through on your part. Words are not the same thing as personal responsibility. Show yourself, by deeds.

He seems to be learning that his promises are not cutting it. And his breaking them, have real consequences.

I have stayed patient and firm. I have shown compassion and hope. I am trying to stay present and to feel my feelings, as opposed to reacting. (This is HUGE.) Because if I stay present, I can act from my love for my son. This way I do not lose myself. My love is the best part of me.

Thank you everybody.


Well-Known Member
OMG. I only just now put these together:
He has not had a regular, full time job, either volunteer or paid for maybe 7 years.
I have been thinking more and more about going back to work. In 7 years I have worked only 3 months. Since my mother got ill and died.

M has ALWAYS maintained that my not working, my withdrawal from life, and all kinds of other stress-related behaviors were linked to reaction to suffering and confusion of my son. I have paid lip service to this, but not really (wanted to) take it in.

Even though that has been my long
term pattern. Being unable to be happy and fully functioning...if my son was not.

Seven years not working, the exact seven years by son has not worked. And I loved my work. And did it well. I got a great deal of self-esteem and meaning from my work.

Wow. Thank you people.


Well-Known Member
It's funny Copa, I noticed that when I was reading through your post, and I know from Al-Anon that we model by our own actions. I, too , have not worked in many years, was not capable. I complain that my daughter has never held a job but didn't hold one myself while raising her . I am seeing that it is more powerful for me to clear within myself what bothers me in others , and how that power of example says more than 1000 words.


Well-Known Member
Staff member
I worry a little about this too.

However, I did work part time for many years. My kids did see that.

My health is an issue. But I have that hidden, not always obvious stuff like lupus and related autoimmune things.

Today, I still work pt, but I work a few hours for my husband per week and have learned to invest. It’s funny as I tell very few people about the investments. I find it awkward. And I’ve discovered what I think is jealousy or prejudice...something a little negative. I’m just doing the best I can with very odd circumstances...never knowing when I’ll be sick which is rather often and needing blood work every two weeks.

What I’m trying to say is I still work PT but it might seem like I do t work to my kids And some others as it’s almost clandestine. I’m surprised I’m even posting this as I tend to be very private.

by the way, I tend to think steady pt work might not be a bad idea for many of our kids. I know with my health issues (and having a Difficult Child in top of that) working perhaps twenty hours a week was a blessing. I was maxed out. Many of our kids are sick. A diff kind of sick. Maybe twenty hours (PT) would be all they can do as well. Just a thought.
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Well-Known Member
Thank you Beta.

Shutting down has become like a reflex. Like I'm some kind of tiny marine creature that snaps shut or coils inward with even the smallest sense that danger could be near. Or maybe I'm more like an octopus. And I spew ink. My son represents danger to me. And I spew negativity.

It's become dangerous to stay open to possibility... I have to re-train myself to tolerate possibility.

Same, same, same! I have a hard time with hope right now. I know it's there, but it's hard to touch. Like water. I can feel it, but can't grab it with my hand and carry it around with me. Some days I don't know if I want to, anyway.


His medical "emergency" (I asked him if he overdosed) only affirmed that there is nowhere more to go with him. The cruelty of that. My son is not a cruel person. But he has come to act from a cruel place. Believing if he presents as a victim, all what he has perpetrated will be swept aside. How could a loving mother support this degradation by her child? I am called upon to see this as it is, what it is.

This is nearly every day with my daughter. It really burns a hole in my heart. I'm working on trying to not let it and "see it as it is" but Just reading your words, even, tugged at me invoking sadness.

I think this is one of the most difficult things - to turn off the natural instincts towards a loved one. The humanness. To see someone in pain and not act or help in some way.

You're doing great in your follow-thorugh. Not easy!


Well-Known Member
Oh, ladies, please be kind to yourselves. What if you worked a full time job? I always have. I love my business. My two other kids have always worked. The extended family works.

You know what I hear from Kay? She doesn't see me as a role model. I am not sure that these adult kids do. But anyway my working encourages her to say,"You and Dad are rich (not true) so you can't even give me $100? And you say you love me when we are hungry (also not true)." And then Christmas comes. "I just want cash. You're rich. Don't tell me that crap that you aren't. You can give us $1000 and you wouldn't miss it."

So what do they see? That you are a hard worker and that they should model it or that you have money to hand over to them? Remember that the kids who bring us here are very selfish and my daughter at least, in every situation, sees only what is in it for her. She truly believes we have millions that we are too stingy to share.

I was so sick of hearing how rich we are. She made sure that is not true. Or WE made sure by giving so much. Never once did Kay say or even notice "You work so hard! I want to do the same. That way I can pay my bills (haha,) and have extra." Her mind doesn't think beyond what can I get out of this?

We tried to bring her into our business, paying her more than she was worth. She did not do her job, stole and caused two big altercations that required police intervention.

In Al Anon I learned that we didn't cause it, we can't control it and we can't cure it. That in my opinion is more than just addiction. That is laziness, poor character, victim mode, unwillingness to better situations or to get help. We have no control over any of that with them.

In our 60s most retire, although we probably never will completely. But that isn't the point. Our normal kids (and I use normal to mean most adult.kids) don't suddenly think "They retired so I quit too!"

Our children use anything as an excuse to do nothing. If we don't work, if we work, if we worked all our lives and retire, if we never do, if we dance, if we sing, there is no end.

We lack the ability to influence our adult kids by what WE do. They twist everything to a negative or don't even notice. Very me centric. I read here and I am ashamed to say that I feel a little better knowing that my daughter is not the only one who does these things. I don't tend to see this in real life. I suspect this is one area people don't share. It's too hurtful and we get blamed.

We need to be realistic in my opinion and stop blaming ourselves. Our kids are 20, 30, 40 and know how their peers behave. They don't look at what Mommy does. They are.mostly quite bright. Many manage to live years on the streets with no jobs. That takes a certain skill set. It may not be legal, but they manage.

If we are older or sick, I don't think getting a job even if it's not good for us will change our kids in any way. They are more important to us than we are to them. This hurts.

They use us mostly for gain. It hurts me to say this. It may not be every one's truth. It is our truth with Kay. She has mirrored none of our family values.

As beaten up and tired parents, I think we need to see that what we do does not influence our grown kids. We need to be peaceful that we did all we could. At their ages only they can get help and change. And our getting jobs in my opinion won't motivate them to do the same. I hate it when we look for their reasons in our own hurting hearts. All we did was love them. Kay uses the live against us too.

God bless everyone.