HashtagHope
New Member
I often say that from the time my son was born, he would drown himself in a puddle trying to win an argument with a submerged pebble. He was certainly a restless little guy with a big attitude. His personality was heavy, restless, and impulsive. We tried therapy, private school, sports, changing schools, all by which happened as I carried, shoved, pushed, pleaded, and bribed him there and back again. He'll grow out of it I say. I just knew he would be a lawyer someday or just great on the high-school debate team. He was beautiful with large dark eyes and hair. He looked like a little George Clooney.
He is 27 years old now and homeless. There are no words to describe the distance and roads traveled between my memories above and what he has become. He drinks until he's hospitalized. I've actually asked a co-worker if she could change the ring-tone on her phone, as it immediately sends panic down my spine reminding me of traumatic middle-of-the-night phone calls. Suicidal threats, banging his gun on the table yelling he's going to pull the trigger, screaming in the middle of the night on the road in his car that someone just tried to saw his head off, breaking both arms falling... The most recent? a facetime call at 4 A.M., blood covering his face and body, 40+ stitches in his face, cursing, demanding I pick him up 5 hours away. Recently kicked out of the sober-living house that I was paying for with money I didn't have, I paid for a motel 2 nights until he could get to the very reputable, state-run rehab center that had secured a spot for him. He shacked up with an addict, drank for 48 hours, was near arrest for what the girl claimed as rape by the last morning, and showed up at the rehab in psychosis.
I told him I was proud of him that he could do this. I took a deep breath or a hundred. I threw up in relief.
He left the facility during admission.
He is now homeless again. He frequently calls and texts nasty messages. Like a prey animal that's just heard a noise, my radar for the sound of the phone makes time stand still. it's like I lose hours at a time. He says he's hungry and he won't survive. He says "goodbye" and that he's going to end it. He says I never loved him and he's tired of proving himself when he's just not good enough. He'll "take care of this burden for me and end it".
I'm far from stupid and realize this is manipulation at it's worst. I've set boundaries. BUT I AM NOTHING MORE THAN AN ABSOLUTE EMOTIONAL WRECK. I PACE AND WONDER WHAT IF. I SEE HIS BLOODY FACE IN MY SLEEP. I CAN'T EAT BECAUSE I THINK HE IS HUNGRY. I HIDE MY FACE FROM MY HUSBAND BECAUSE HE'S SICK OF IT AND DOESN'T UNDERSTAND HOW I COULD LET THIS STILL BOTHER ME AFTER ALL THESE YEARS WHEN HE'S MADE THESE CHOICES. I FEEL MY ONLY JOB IN LIFE WAS TO FIX AND COMFORT MY CHILD. I have always kept it together. I am falling apart and seemingly have less and less control of myself. I plan to attend an al-anon group this week. I'm afraid I don't like to cry in front of people and I will fall apart. I won't be able to talk about it.
Thank-you for reading. I so needed an outlet this evening.
He is 27 years old now and homeless. There are no words to describe the distance and roads traveled between my memories above and what he has become. He drinks until he's hospitalized. I've actually asked a co-worker if she could change the ring-tone on her phone, as it immediately sends panic down my spine reminding me of traumatic middle-of-the-night phone calls. Suicidal threats, banging his gun on the table yelling he's going to pull the trigger, screaming in the middle of the night on the road in his car that someone just tried to saw his head off, breaking both arms falling... The most recent? a facetime call at 4 A.M., blood covering his face and body, 40+ stitches in his face, cursing, demanding I pick him up 5 hours away. Recently kicked out of the sober-living house that I was paying for with money I didn't have, I paid for a motel 2 nights until he could get to the very reputable, state-run rehab center that had secured a spot for him. He shacked up with an addict, drank for 48 hours, was near arrest for what the girl claimed as rape by the last morning, and showed up at the rehab in psychosis.
I told him I was proud of him that he could do this. I took a deep breath or a hundred. I threw up in relief.
He left the facility during admission.
He is now homeless again. He frequently calls and texts nasty messages. Like a prey animal that's just heard a noise, my radar for the sound of the phone makes time stand still. it's like I lose hours at a time. He says he's hungry and he won't survive. He says "goodbye" and that he's going to end it. He says I never loved him and he's tired of proving himself when he's just not good enough. He'll "take care of this burden for me and end it".
I'm far from stupid and realize this is manipulation at it's worst. I've set boundaries. BUT I AM NOTHING MORE THAN AN ABSOLUTE EMOTIONAL WRECK. I PACE AND WONDER WHAT IF. I SEE HIS BLOODY FACE IN MY SLEEP. I CAN'T EAT BECAUSE I THINK HE IS HUNGRY. I HIDE MY FACE FROM MY HUSBAND BECAUSE HE'S SICK OF IT AND DOESN'T UNDERSTAND HOW I COULD LET THIS STILL BOTHER ME AFTER ALL THESE YEARS WHEN HE'S MADE THESE CHOICES. I FEEL MY ONLY JOB IN LIFE WAS TO FIX AND COMFORT MY CHILD. I have always kept it together. I am falling apart and seemingly have less and less control of myself. I plan to attend an al-anon group this week. I'm afraid I don't like to cry in front of people and I will fall apart. I won't be able to talk about it.
Thank-you for reading. I so needed an outlet this evening.
