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How to even talk on the phone with my son....
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 656696" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Hi Tish. Called son. Did not go well, at first. Whatever I said, I am blocking it, engendered the response: I do not want to talk to you. Ever. Goodbye. OK. Breathe.</p><p></p><p>He called back a few minutes later. This time I listened. For 20 minutes.</p><p></p><p>Afterwards, I said to him, we can do it your way but that means I listen and not respond.</p><p></p><p>"I want to have a conversation," he replied, but "<em><strong>you</strong></em> are not rational."</p><p></p><p>"I am sorry you feel that way but we cannot have a conversation if you choose to not listen to my part of it without criticizing me. I am willing to listen, though."</p><p></p><p>As I was listening to him I was really thinking he might be manic, but I tried to stay in the present.</p><p></p><p>At one point he said, "I don't want to consider an anti-psychotic. Because I have researched all of the psychotropic medications and I will never accept their ill effects."</p><p></p><p>I tried to silence my anxiety about the psychotic part, telling myself it might have been a slip of the tongue and he meant psychotropic. Or maybe not. Either way, I am taking it as good. At least he is thinking about it even if it is to reject it.</p><p></p><p>He mentioned that he was thinking about moving to a $6 a night campground on the coast in a city he loves where we used to live. I stayed silent.</p><p></p><p>"It would really make it easier if you let me come to your house to do my research but you seem to still have a grievance with me" he said.</p><p></p><p>I stayed silent.</p><p></p><p>"I guess I am on my own. Alone."</p><p></p><p>I stayed silent for 10 seconds or so.</p><p></p><p>"To some extent you are. But this is a good thing, I think. You are an adult, and I respect you. I believe in you. I know you will do the right thing for yourself, make the kind of decisions where you build a life that serves you, that you take pride in."</p><p></p><p>(Mid way I asked myself if I was lying and I realized that I was telling the truth. This voice had been inside me all along and it was real (thank you Cedar.)</p><p></p><p>At that moment I realized I could choose the voice I spoke from, the scared voice that needed control or the strong voice of hope (thank you Cedar.)</p><p></p><p>I was believing myself, too. (This was going good, I was thinking.)</p><p></p><p>He responded with negativity, and disparaged his appearance and asserted that he would never change.</p><p></p><p>I answered, "People change, and you will to. They change themselves and they change their lives. And they deserve to."</p><p></p><p>"They deserve the trust, respect and support of their parents, who believe in them. I am learning this."</p><p></p><p>He tried to pooh pooh this, but I was ready.</p><p></p><p>A few days before I had come across some college papers of my Mother's from perhaps 35 years ago. She spoke of my great anger towards her and described me as deeply insecure. In this paper she expressed great regret, that she had never voiced to me.</p><p></p><p>Reading this brought into focus something that she had told me in the year before she died.</p><p></p><p>She was in the Rehab Hospital and I went every day to be with her. For the first time in perhaps my whole adult life my mother was able to see me around people but away from the family.</p><p></p><p>"You are so confident," she said. "People like you so much; they are drawn to you, they trust and want to be with you."</p><p></p><p>Reading the letter written by my mother about her feelings about the young girl I had been, I was able to put into context what she had voiced before her death.</p><p></p><p>She had seen that I had changed. I had become a confident and independent woman who trusted herself and her voice.</p><p></p><p>And this I told my son.</p><p></p><p>"I'll never be like that," he said. "You were always pretty." (My son, while very handsome believes he is not.)</p><p></p><p>"What I say and feel about what I believe is non-negotiable. I believe that you are learning to be your own person, a person that you respect and that I respect. And I believe that you are in the process of making your life to be as you need it. I trust that and I trust you. That does not change my love for you. I love you and I will always love you."</p><p></p><p>This seemed to settle him and we said goodbye that we will speak again.</p><p></p><p>I got anxious because he did not say when.</p><p></p><p>But it was good.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 656696, member: 18958"] Hi Tish. Called son. Did not go well, at first. Whatever I said, I am blocking it, engendered the response: I do not want to talk to you. Ever. Goodbye. OK. Breathe. He called back a few minutes later. This time I listened. For 20 minutes. Afterwards, I said to him, we can do it your way but that means I listen and not respond. "I want to have a conversation," he replied, but "[I][B]you[/B][/I] are not rational." "I am sorry you feel that way but we cannot have a conversation if you choose to not listen to my part of it without criticizing me. I am willing to listen, though." As I was listening to him I was really thinking he might be manic, but I tried to stay in the present. At one point he said, "I don't want to consider an anti-psychotic. Because I have researched all of the psychotropic medications and I will never accept their ill effects." I tried to silence my anxiety about the psychotic part, telling myself it might have been a slip of the tongue and he meant psychotropic. Or maybe not. Either way, I am taking it as good. At least he is thinking about it even if it is to reject it. He mentioned that he was thinking about moving to a $6 a night campground on the coast in a city he loves where we used to live. I stayed silent. "It would really make it easier if you let me come to your house to do my research but you seem to still have a grievance with me" he said. I stayed silent. "I guess I am on my own. Alone." I stayed silent for 10 seconds or so. "To some extent you are. But this is a good thing, I think. You are an adult, and I respect you. I believe in you. I know you will do the right thing for yourself, make the kind of decisions where you build a life that serves you, that you take pride in." (Mid way I asked myself if I was lying and I realized that I was telling the truth. This voice had been inside me all along and it was real (thank you Cedar.) At that moment I realized I could choose the voice I spoke from, the scared voice that needed control or the strong voice of hope (thank you Cedar.) I was believing myself, too. (This was going good, I was thinking.) He responded with negativity, and disparaged his appearance and asserted that he would never change. I answered, "People change, and you will to. They change themselves and they change their lives. And they deserve to." "They deserve the trust, respect and support of their parents, who believe in them. I am learning this." He tried to pooh pooh this, but I was ready. A few days before I had come across some college papers of my Mother's from perhaps 35 years ago. She spoke of my great anger towards her and described me as deeply insecure. In this paper she expressed great regret, that she had never voiced to me. Reading this brought into focus something that she had told me in the year before she died. She was in the Rehab Hospital and I went every day to be with her. For the first time in perhaps my whole adult life my mother was able to see me around people but away from the family. "You are so confident," she said. "People like you so much; they are drawn to you, they trust and want to be with you." Reading the letter written by my mother about her feelings about the young girl I had been, I was able to put into context what she had voiced before her death. She had seen that I had changed. I had become a confident and independent woman who trusted herself and her voice. And this I told my son. "I'll never be like that," he said. "You were always pretty." (My son, while very handsome believes he is not.) "What I say and feel about what I believe is non-negotiable. I believe that you are learning to be your own person, a person that you respect and that I respect. And I believe that you are in the process of making your life to be as you need it. I trust that and I trust you. That does not change my love for you. I love you and I will always love you." This seemed to settle him and we said goodbye that we will speak again. I got anxious because he did not say when. But it was good. [/QUOTE]
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