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A little bit of hope.
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 752668" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Well....</p><p></p><p>I sure am glad I have this thread.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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."</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.)</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>He's got to find moral strength himself, to rise from this. I can't do it for him.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>I know this is not true.</p><p></p><p>I know that M still has in him a store of "trying." I don't believe I do.</p><p></p><p>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?</p><p></p><p>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.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 752668, member: 18958"] Well.... 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. [/QUOTE]
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