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<blockquote data-quote="Albatross" data-source="post: 705084" data-attributes="member: 17720"><p>I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, about the little bits I take from each of you.</p><p></p><p>I have been thinking about how long we have all been dealing with our difficult children, all the tears and sleepless nights, how many times each of us on Parents Emeritus must have thought, “Well, (s)he will be an adult soon, and then I won’t have to deal with it.” Yet we still are, if not literally, then certainly emotionally.</p><p></p><p>I have been thinking about how the days and the years go by, and the wise counsel of moms who have earned their wings many times over and look back with sadness at the many missed opportunities for joy.</p><p></p><p>Some of us strive to maintain and improve relationships with our difficult children, and others have decided it is best to step away. Yet all continue to strive to love more deeply, do what is best for all concerned, and still reach out and help others.</p><p></p><p>And we all wish we had “gotten it” sooner, had learned to balance the needs of our difficult children with our own needs.</p><p></p><p>My daughter showed me the Thanksgiving picture of the family and I was smacked in the face with how old I look. Not only how I look, but how I carry myself, how I think, how I approach the world and my place in it.</p><p></p><p>In so many ways I am beaten down, not solely because of Difficult Child but he plays a huge role. My interactions with him lead me to question my competence in everything I do. Worrying about him costs me joy, focus, energy, health, friends…even something as simple as how I dress. I get my clothes at Goodwill now, not because I need to, not because I like the hunt for buried treasure, but because I think that is all I deserve.</p><p></p><p>Why do I tolerate it?</p><p></p><p>Here is the conversation we had last week, which is pretty typical of every conversation we have had since I told him we wouldn’t pay his airfare to Hawaii.</p><p></p><p>Tuesday: Vague “end-it-all” talk and claims he has nowhere to go due to a situation that arose when he was high on meth. When I suggested rehabs he told me to get the *$&# out of his life, mocked me for being so sensitive when I told him not to talk to me like that, and told me I needed professional help.</p><p></p><p>Dad messaged him saying, “You owe Albatross an apology. She is my wife and I love her and she certainly doesn’t deserve you talking to her like that.”</p><p></p><p>Tuesday night: Apology to me with continued hopelessness, says he wants to go to rehab but only in Hawaii, he would rather die if he can’t go now, etc., then abruptly “a friend wants to take me out for a burrito brb.”</p><p></p><p>Calling him on walking away from the conversation for a burrito triggered “how dare you,” “what a mother you are,” “done with you forever,” etc.</p><p></p><p>Wednesday: Apology with how terrific everything would be in HI if only he can get there now. Telling him we won’t pay for a ticket to Hawaii triggers telling me he doesn’t need rehab because alcohol is as bad as any other drug he can do, which he knows because the rehabs we sent him to are what turned him onto other drugs.</p><p></p><p>Thursday: Apology with request for last 4 digits of an old credit card number he needs to reactivate his video game account. Telling him I no longer have that card triggers accusing me of lying about not having the information and “what a mother you are, and thanks for depriving me of the only wealth I’ve ever had.”</p><p></p><p>Thursday night: Messages husband the next day that he has a good job available “now that my piss is clean” but doesn’t have a phone to get the calls. Dad agrees to get him a pay-as-you-go phone for a month to get him started. Two hours later son posts on Facebook that someone gifted him with a bag of weed. Dad calls him on smoking weed given the good job offer and son messages back “I couldn’t take the job anyway, it is cold outside and I didn’t have the heart to tell YOUR WIFE ALBATROSS that she sent me 2 right-handed gloves.” (I sent him gloves in September.) I messaged him that I thought the “your wife” comment was a cheap shot, triggering “when you stop dishing it out I’ll stop serving it back.”</p><p></p><p>And this is how it goes, not every time but certainly enough to have taken a heavy toll, enough to leave me feeling gaslighted, abused, confused, and tearful, ruminating afterward for days.</p><p></p><p>I am slowly killing myself over someone who ranks me somewhere below a plane ticket, video games, and burritos.</p><p></p><p>It is OK that he thinks of me like that -- I know I can't change that.</p><p></p><p>But how do I stop destroying myself over it, feeling so despicable and unworthy for failing to have the relationship I *think* we *should* have?</p><p></p><p>I don’t know how else to put it, but I need to find my strength again.</p><p></p><p>How do I do that?</p><p></p><p>When is it OK to say, “I just don’t want to do this anymore” and break off contact?</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Albatross, post: 705084, member: 17720"] I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, about the little bits I take from each of you. I have been thinking about how long we have all been dealing with our difficult children, all the tears and sleepless nights, how many times each of us on Parents Emeritus must have thought, “Well, (s)he will be an adult soon, and then I won’t have to deal with it.” Yet we still are, if not literally, then certainly emotionally. I have been thinking about how the days and the years go by, and the wise counsel of moms who have earned their wings many times over and look back with sadness at the many missed opportunities for joy. Some of us strive to maintain and improve relationships with our difficult children, and others have decided it is best to step away. Yet all continue to strive to love more deeply, do what is best for all concerned, and still reach out and help others. And we all wish we had “gotten it” sooner, had learned to balance the needs of our difficult children with our own needs. My daughter showed me the Thanksgiving picture of the family and I was smacked in the face with how old I look. Not only how I look, but how I carry myself, how I think, how I approach the world and my place in it. In so many ways I am beaten down, not solely because of Difficult Child but he plays a huge role. My interactions with him lead me to question my competence in everything I do. Worrying about him costs me joy, focus, energy, health, friends…even something as simple as how I dress. I get my clothes at Goodwill now, not because I need to, not because I like the hunt for buried treasure, but because I think that is all I deserve. Why do I tolerate it? Here is the conversation we had last week, which is pretty typical of every conversation we have had since I told him we wouldn’t pay his airfare to Hawaii. Tuesday: Vague “end-it-all” talk and claims he has nowhere to go due to a situation that arose when he was high on meth. When I suggested rehabs he told me to get the *$&# out of his life, mocked me for being so sensitive when I told him not to talk to me like that, and told me I needed professional help. Dad messaged him saying, “You owe Albatross an apology. She is my wife and I love her and she certainly doesn’t deserve you talking to her like that.” Tuesday night: Apology to me with continued hopelessness, says he wants to go to rehab but only in Hawaii, he would rather die if he can’t go now, etc., then abruptly “a friend wants to take me out for a burrito brb.” Calling him on walking away from the conversation for a burrito triggered “how dare you,” “what a mother you are,” “done with you forever,” etc. Wednesday: Apology with how terrific everything would be in HI if only he can get there now. Telling him we won’t pay for a ticket to Hawaii triggers telling me he doesn’t need rehab because alcohol is as bad as any other drug he can do, which he knows because the rehabs we sent him to are what turned him onto other drugs. Thursday: Apology with request for last 4 digits of an old credit card number he needs to reactivate his video game account. Telling him I no longer have that card triggers accusing me of lying about not having the information and “what a mother you are, and thanks for depriving me of the only wealth I’ve ever had.” Thursday night: Messages husband the next day that he has a good job available “now that my piss is clean” but doesn’t have a phone to get the calls. Dad agrees to get him a pay-as-you-go phone for a month to get him started. Two hours later son posts on Facebook that someone gifted him with a bag of weed. Dad calls him on smoking weed given the good job offer and son messages back “I couldn’t take the job anyway, it is cold outside and I didn’t have the heart to tell YOUR WIFE ALBATROSS that she sent me 2 right-handed gloves.” (I sent him gloves in September.) I messaged him that I thought the “your wife” comment was a cheap shot, triggering “when you stop dishing it out I’ll stop serving it back.” And this is how it goes, not every time but certainly enough to have taken a heavy toll, enough to leave me feeling gaslighted, abused, confused, and tearful, ruminating afterward for days. I am slowly killing myself over someone who ranks me somewhere below a plane ticket, video games, and burritos. It is OK that he thinks of me like that -- I know I can't change that. But how do I stop destroying myself over it, feeling so despicable and unworthy for failing to have the relationship I *think* we *should* have? I don’t know how else to put it, but I need to find my strength again. How do I do that? When is it OK to say, “I just don’t want to do this anymore” and break off contact? [/QUOTE]
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