A day or so ago I posted that I didn't really miss my son, that my house was peaceful and I felt okay. Yah, that didn't last. I cleaned and organized and listened to an album I use to listen to and sing to my son when he was a baby last night. That was probably a bad idea, in hindsight. He texted and asked to come by to pick up his SS card so he could get food stamps, and I got to hug him and see him. I told him I loved him and I was very proud of him for getting it together. I also shared a story with him that when I was two years younger than he was, I was kicked out of the house with much much less, pretty much a motorcycle and 40.00 and had to live on the floor of a cambodian family's apartment for three months, so at least his couch surfing host can communicate with him. He told me that he and his girlfriend from hell (my words) found an apartment that was income based and he was still looking for work. I told him it's been only two days, and gave him a dress shirt and tie. He kissed me and left. I was strong in front of him. Didn't cry. Smiled. Told him I was proud of him and that he was doing okay. Gave him soft toilet paper to take home. (he's a guy, and soft tp is important, or so my husband says) Well, since then, I've been a crying mess. I think it started with my listening to that stupid album and thinking about all of the gifts he has been given that he is not using, physically and talentwise. And how bad I screwed up by giving him too much. Or something. It feels like I am actually breaking up with a boyfriend, how sick is that? Talk about dependency. I thought that he was dependent on me for money, (which he was), but what kind of mother just forks over stuff to her son without holding him accountable for it? So I think I'm going through the whole stages of grief thing, and I'm somewhere in grief and denial. I don't even have it as bad as most of the parents on this forum and so I'm sorry for the pity party I'm having, he's not shooting up somewhere, he's just in a weird place. I did want to share one thing here. I was really proud of him for going down and getting food stamps and housing lined up. My mother called me last night to see how he was doing, and I said, Mom, you aren't going to BELIEVE this, but he is actually figuring out basic survival skills and shared that story with her. She just went off on me, and said that he was just trading in reliance upon me to reliance on the government, and that there were food banks and he wasn't starving, and he was just going to trade it in for cigarettes and etc. The reaction floored me. I thought it was a good thing. When I was much younger, I too got food stamps and even welfare and WIC, and now I make super great money and I am proud to pay taxes back to help other people. I never thought I would have to use my anti-codependent talks on my mother, but I said, well, I am proud of him for that, and you and I will just have to disagree about it. I love you anyways, and then I hung up. I don't think difficult child will use temporary assistance FOREVER, maybe for the next couple of years until he gets his feet and gets through school... but that's what it's for!! In France, students and young people get monthly assistance and there is no problem with it - when they get older they give back. Anyway, that bothered me, and I wanted to vent a little. Then this morning, I had a dream that I was driving at a normal speed down a freeway and something happened and I over corrected, and then over corrected again and everything went out of control and I ended up heading sideways towards a truck, closing my eyes to the inevitable crash. I don't have to be Freud to know what that means. I know I will get through this. And I know it will be okay. I'm just a little depressed and sad, and it's 12:30 noon and I'm still in my pjs drinking coffee in bed. Not healthy. Back to the original thread. I haven't felt like this since I had a bad breakup. It's weird. My poor husband. Thank you all for listening. *p.s. I'm still trying to figure out how to do the bottom signature thing.