I posted a comment on another thread and realized after that I needed counsel. I don't know what I am asking for. I guess, just company. Not to be alone with this. I have the impulse to text my son asking him: Where did I go wrong? What happened that 27 years of love has come to this? How? I know I should not do that. That it would be sado-masochistic. But I feel like it. How in the world did it happen that my son is 29 years old, probably living on the street, spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars a month on marijuana, uncaring of anybody, without basic human baseline personal habits (he tries to keep his body clean, I accept that), but living situation, no. No goals. No responsibilities. No helping others beyond doing favors. It's like he is an empty shirt. He has excellent social skills. He is (was) extremely handsome. He is highly intelligent, cultured, well-mannered, articulate, warm. To neighbors WE looked like the problem. For two years he held it together and presented a good face to ALL the neighbors in the other house. I would say he was almost beloved. How can somebody present as a reasonable person, and have the desire to do so, without wanting anything in their life or asking of themselves that they become somebody in their life, by that I mean character? I could come up with a few answers if this person was anybody other than the child I have loved more than anybody in the whole world. Today was moderately hard. My son's mail comes here. Since he never pays bills, and does ridiculously irresponsible and unthinking things, like calls ambulances to take him to the doctor ($6000 bill; not once but serially, and he did it again)...when he was in my town 10 minutes away from my house, it feels dreadful when these unpaid bills arrive to my home. Like a slap in the face. So I had had a tough afternoon. A social security employee at first told me that my son likely could receive my full social security payment, after my death...and then the man retracted it...because my son had declared in his SSDI application that his disability had begun when he was 24, instead of earlier, when he knows full well the circumstances of his life...and won't let go of it. But for short term benefit, he distorted it. And because he did not involve me, I could not give him or get him good counsel. This cannot be reversed. So I felt slapped down by this. Because I struggle to find a way to make peace with my inability to help him security after I die. I mean, give me a break. How completely irrational this sounds. When I got home, there were the bills. So I called my son. (I know this was a mistake.) Please change your address. I don't want your bills coming here. Click. He hangs up on me. He had last called a few days ago. Can I come home? No. When he hung up on me I texted him: Please change your address. And don't call or text me, until you begin to act like a socialized human being. Was the gist of it. I cannot follow my own advise. Imagine. Searching for ways to control his life and protect him, from my grave. I cannot think of something more futile and pathetic. So, this post is disjointed because it is a merging of two posts. I cannot accept this. How can my son live like this? How can he be like this? People think it is my fault. Maybe YOU think it is my fault. Perhaps this is the truth I need to accept that I created this monster. Or had unreasonable expectations that he could overcome his beginnings. Or denied basic realities which are now undeniable. I don't want to hear any of it. I just want this NOT TO BE HAPPENING LIKE THIS. I want to live in denial. Denisl is no longer working. I have come so far. I am doing so much for me now. With my son on the very periphery of my life, I am able to function and have hope and gradually add constructive and forward looking interests and activities to my own life. Every.single.time.I.have.contact.with.him. I feel like . It has gotten to that point. Where I do not want to have even verbal or text contact with the person I have loved most in my life. X 100. And I cannot make sense of this. I am not seeking that anybody make sense of this for me. Quite obviously I do not want to look deeply at this situation because it is so painful to me. And that is my quandary. I want to be stupid. Because the pain would be too great to be smart. I guess all I want to do is to get through today and hope that tomorrow is better. That I climb back into my own life and make him peripheral again. But how can I live the rest of my life with my heart walking around outside of my body? I mean, most days lately, I feel like I have possession of my own heart. But I get like this, and I lose it. I lose control of my heart.