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<blockquote data-quote="New Leaf" data-source="post: 746394" data-attributes="member: 19522"><p>Thank you Copa.Glimmers of hope. It’s hard to watch our beloveds struggle so. My problem is that I don’t know if they are just “throwing me a bone” or actually speaking from within. Those glimmers turn to shards that stab me at times. Contact dredges up the sadness in me that I have to work through. It surfaces and brings me to a low point. At that time, I don’t think straight. I know this.</p><p> How to deal with that sadness that ever lurks beneath the surface, that’s the challenge. I know I cannot change my two. The energy that I once spent trying to “help” has metamorphosed to this...... underlying melancholy. It waxes and wanes like moon phases. It rears it’s ugly head on holidays and birthdays. Some days I am able to quell it, to put on the brave face and keep trekking. Other days, I want to stand on a wall and lament and wail. The sadness bubbles up and threatens to burst from my mouth to anyone who would listen. Those days, I try to sequester myself. Lest I lose it completely in public.</p><p>I just read an article about a young girl who ended up on life support for her ailing lungs. She pushed through it, even walking and exercising in the hospital while hooked up to this machine. Driven to be well. Her mother’s quote struck me, “You can carry happiness and the sadness at the same time”.</p><p>Today, I am working on that. Every day, I am working on that.</p><p>Then there is that contrast between a healthy young adult stricken by illness, trying her utmost to regain health, to live, and my two, throwing their lives and health away to meth.</p><p>Gah!</p><p>I should make a chart out of my emotions. Some kind of measurement where I can track progress and regression. It is a pattern.</p><p>It is something, even as Swot says, it’s just words. Yes, action counts most, but for our kids, to manage that thought process to a point where they actually speak it, <em>is</em> something. The fact that Tornado mentioned rehab is something. Maybe it was a means to escape jail. It is the first time she has admitted to a problem, even allowed that word “<em>rehab</em>” to come out of her mouth. Her usual response would be denial, a complete rebuking of the <em>audacity</em> that anyone would think she had a <em>problem</em>.</p><p>Only time will tell. In the meantime, I have much work to do on myself, and I still believe this is an important factor in our adult children’s lives, that we continue to grow and thrive <em>despite</em> come what may with their own choices.</p><p></p><p>I am certain that with years of pot smoking, drinking, segwaying to hard drugs, my two have major issues as well.</p><p></p><p>Mine also. We are put on this earth to learn and grow from our experiences, good and bad. Drugs definitely stagnate motivation for change, or seeking help.</p><p></p><p>. That is my banner for now, fighting any inclination to open my door again. It was a slow descent to their hell, and I think at first we were shell shocked and blindsided by love, especially for the grands. Recounting the stories and the drama we went through, I can’t believe what we put up with. The many times we tried only to have things escalate all over again. It was, and is insidious.</p><p></p><p>No, they don’t meet me even two percent. On meth, they are incapable it seems. I can’t and won’t allow that in my home. The peaceful atmosphere that exists now, would be shattered. That is unacceptable.</p><p></p><p> Retrospect, how wise and altogether disconcerting it can be. Like an outside observer chastising our mistakes. You did what you could with the knowledge and circumstance you had in the past. It was love driven. I believe your son knows this. You had your fair share of drama too. There were incidences you have posted of that are difficult for anyone to maintain composure. I think we have all had moments that we would do over.</p><p></p><p> I am working on being thankful for the time I had raising my two. Focusing on that. They hold the cards to their choices, their future. I have no control over any of it. That is the hardest lesson. But true. It is a fear of mine as well, Copa, that I may lose them completely.</p><p></p><p></p><p>This is the way of addiction. I have to remind myself that it feeds off of desperation and blame. Unfortunately, those closest to an addict are the easiest marks. Therewithin lies the challenge. Disentangling from the web. It is not always easy to navigate.</p><p> The doubt is on what my reaction and involvement <em>should</em> be. That is what I have struggled these past months with. My daughter lying to the judge with our address, back on the streets, MIA, all telltale clues to her resolve, or lack there of. Yes, she put that on me and it is a hard pill to swallow. “If I get out again with no place to go, I will go right back to the same thing.”</p><p>Gulp.</p><p>Is that just shy of threat of suicide? “If you don’t let me home, this is my only alternative.”</p><p>I can’t call 911 because my 30 year old daughter is threatening to be homeless and drugging again.</p><p>Then again, rehabs are full on the island, the probation officer verified that.</p><p>Still, I said no.</p><p>Would it have made a difference if I allowed her here? I don’t think so.</p><p>There is that nagging voice inside of me that still wonders.</p><p>Today she has court. It is up to her to appear, or not. I can’t and won’t be there. This is her journey to walk.</p><p></p><p> We are, Copa. I have to believe there is something to be learned from it. When I had Rain out of wedlock in the 70s, my father was so upset with me. He would not acknowledge my presence, or my child. Mom would have us over, he would walk out of the room. It was harsh, but I understand now, how hurt and disappointed he was. It was months before he could be in the same room with us.</p><p>That memory has been popping up as of late.</p><p>I think because I am reflecting on how keen he was to his own feelings. He came round after awhile, after he had processed everything. Being a parent back then was different, it was on their terms. Respect and boundaries were set. We knew when we crossed a line. My two have crossed many. Time to build up the armor again. I have let my guard down.</p><p></p><p></p><p> I have missed you all as well. Thank you Copa for your help in working through this.</p><p></p><p>(((Hugs)))</p><p>Leafy</p><p>Long day at work........</p><p>thank you Lil. I certainly don’t want to send mixed messages.</p><p></p><p></p><p>Would it be wrong of me to want the judge to know this? It is the truth.That would be my only recourse if asked. I confess, I told her probation officer the truth. That she is an addict, that she is not allowed home, that I love her and want her to get help.</p><p> Thank you Lil. It has been a long hard road. You know, I view Tornado being in this predicament with the law as a possible saving grace. She has slid between the cracks for so long. Driving without insurance, no license, parking tickets. Bench warrants. This court today was for a HOPE probation program that is geared for addicts.</p><p></p><p>I think they mean it too, but, what motivates the “plans” is multidimensional, according to each person and circumstance.</p><p></p><p>It is exhausting, I agree. I don’t like rollercoasters, never did.</p><p></p><p>Vulnerability at its lowest point. I think using discernment is tantamount. Separating from that instinctual mama bear to the rescue mode. My two know how to manipulate that. They are experts. Simply put, love says no.</p><p></p><p>It is sad, but the bitter truth. Would it hurt her? Might the judge understand better the depth of her addiction? Is there not help there?</p><p></p><p> That is what I pray for.</p><p></p><p>Geez. I suppose if you were two hours late in anticipation, he would be there on time.</p><p></p><p></p><p>Ugh.</p><p>I hope so too, Copa. My prayers and thoughts are with you. I hope all goes well.</p><p>Safe journey.</p><p>(((Hugs)))</p><p>Leafy</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="New Leaf, post: 746394, member: 19522"] Thank you Copa.Glimmers of hope. It’s hard to watch our beloveds struggle so. My problem is that I don’t know if they are just “throwing me a bone” or actually speaking from within. Those glimmers turn to shards that stab me at times. Contact dredges up the sadness in me that I have to work through. It surfaces and brings me to a low point. At that time, I don’t think straight. I know this. How to deal with that sadness that ever lurks beneath the surface, that’s the challenge. I know I cannot change my two. The energy that I once spent trying to “help” has metamorphosed to this...... underlying melancholy. It waxes and wanes like moon phases. It rears it’s ugly head on holidays and birthdays. Some days I am able to quell it, to put on the brave face and keep trekking. Other days, I want to stand on a wall and lament and wail. The sadness bubbles up and threatens to burst from my mouth to anyone who would listen. Those days, I try to sequester myself. Lest I lose it completely in public. I just read an article about a young girl who ended up on life support for her ailing lungs. She pushed through it, even walking and exercising in the hospital while hooked up to this machine. Driven to be well. Her mother’s quote struck me, “You can carry happiness and the sadness at the same time”. Today, I am working on that. Every day, I am working on that. Then there is that contrast between a healthy young adult stricken by illness, trying her utmost to regain health, to live, and my two, throwing their lives and health away to meth. Gah! I should make a chart out of my emotions. Some kind of measurement where I can track progress and regression. It is a pattern. It is something, even as Swot says, it’s just words. Yes, action counts most, but for our kids, to manage that thought process to a point where they actually speak it, [I]is[/I] something. The fact that Tornado mentioned rehab is something. Maybe it was a means to escape jail. It is the first time she has admitted to a problem, even allowed that word “[I]rehab[/I]” to come out of her mouth. Her usual response would be denial, a complete rebuking of the [I]audacity[/I] that anyone would think she had a [I]problem[/I]. Only time will tell. In the meantime, I have much work to do on myself, and I still believe this is an important factor in our adult children’s lives, that we continue to grow and thrive [I]despite[/I] come what may with their own choices. I am certain that with years of pot smoking, drinking, segwaying to hard drugs, my two have major issues as well. Mine also. We are put on this earth to learn and grow from our experiences, good and bad. Drugs definitely stagnate motivation for change, or seeking help. . That is my banner for now, fighting any inclination to open my door again. It was a slow descent to their hell, and I think at first we were shell shocked and blindsided by love, especially for the grands. Recounting the stories and the drama we went through, I can’t believe what we put up with. The many times we tried only to have things escalate all over again. It was, and is insidious. No, they don’t meet me even two percent. On meth, they are incapable it seems. I can’t and won’t allow that in my home. The peaceful atmosphere that exists now, would be shattered. That is unacceptable. Retrospect, how wise and altogether disconcerting it can be. Like an outside observer chastising our mistakes. You did what you could with the knowledge and circumstance you had in the past. It was love driven. I believe your son knows this. You had your fair share of drama too. There were incidences you have posted of that are difficult for anyone to maintain composure. I think we have all had moments that we would do over. I am working on being thankful for the time I had raising my two. Focusing on that. They hold the cards to their choices, their future. I have no control over any of it. That is the hardest lesson. But true. It is a fear of mine as well, Copa, that I may lose them completely. This is the way of addiction. I have to remind myself that it feeds off of desperation and blame. Unfortunately, those closest to an addict are the easiest marks. Therewithin lies the challenge. Disentangling from the web. It is not always easy to navigate. The doubt is on what my reaction and involvement [I]should[/I] be. That is what I have struggled these past months with. My daughter lying to the judge with our address, back on the streets, MIA, all telltale clues to her resolve, or lack there of. Yes, she put that on me and it is a hard pill to swallow. “If I get out again with no place to go, I will go right back to the same thing.” Gulp. Is that just shy of threat of suicide? “If you don’t let me home, this is my only alternative.” I can’t call 911 because my 30 year old daughter is threatening to be homeless and drugging again. Then again, rehabs are full on the island, the probation officer verified that. Still, I said no. Would it have made a difference if I allowed her here? I don’t think so. There is that nagging voice inside of me that still wonders. Today she has court. It is up to her to appear, or not. I can’t and won’t be there. This is her journey to walk. We are, Copa. I have to believe there is something to be learned from it. When I had Rain out of wedlock in the 70s, my father was so upset with me. He would not acknowledge my presence, or my child. Mom would have us over, he would walk out of the room. It was harsh, but I understand now, how hurt and disappointed he was. It was months before he could be in the same room with us. That memory has been popping up as of late. I think because I am reflecting on how keen he was to his own feelings. He came round after awhile, after he had processed everything. Being a parent back then was different, it was on their terms. Respect and boundaries were set. We knew when we crossed a line. My two have crossed many. Time to build up the armor again. I have let my guard down. I have missed you all as well. Thank you Copa for your help in working through this. (((Hugs))) Leafy Long day at work........ thank you Lil. I certainly don’t want to send mixed messages. Would it be wrong of me to want the judge to know this? It is the truth.That would be my only recourse if asked. I confess, I told her probation officer the truth. That she is an addict, that she is not allowed home, that I love her and want her to get help. Thank you Lil. It has been a long hard road. You know, I view Tornado being in this predicament with the law as a possible saving grace. She has slid between the cracks for so long. Driving without insurance, no license, parking tickets. Bench warrants. This court today was for a HOPE probation program that is geared for addicts. I think they mean it too, but, what motivates the “plans” is multidimensional, according to each person and circumstance. It is exhausting, I agree. I don’t like rollercoasters, never did. Vulnerability at its lowest point. I think using discernment is tantamount. Separating from that instinctual mama bear to the rescue mode. My two know how to manipulate that. They are experts. Simply put, love says no. It is sad, but the bitter truth. Would it hurt her? Might the judge understand better the depth of her addiction? Is there not help there? That is what I pray for. Geez. I suppose if you were two hours late in anticipation, he would be there on time. Ugh. I hope so too, Copa. My prayers and thoughts are with you. I hope all goes well. Safe journey. (((Hugs))) Leafy [/QUOTE]
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