What does detachment look like to you?

scent of cedar

New Member
I wanted to clarify this, Witz. You haven't been manipulated. You've been savaged. Targeted and torn apart, based on the letter you shared with us, by your father, you were hand-raised to find and marry a man just like your husband turned out to be.

Children learn who their mother is and what she deserves from their fathers, Witz. Carrying half his genes already, L learned to treat you as she does from him. Unless I am mistaken, the relationship between L and her father works only because you play the role of black sheep for them both.

I could be wrong about that one. It makes sense to me that that is how that one would work, though.

Cedar
 

witzend

Well-Known Member
You're right about that, Cedar.

My biggest problem is my knee jerk reactions. I just get insane. I honestly don't think that getting insane in reaction is all that bad. When someone dumps a big load of crazy on you it's bound to make you crazy. I just need to not give them the satisfaction of sharing it with them. It continues the dance.

Maybe while they're doing the good old "two step" I'll have to do "The Safety Dance". ;)
 

scent of cedar

New Member
Yes!

:O)

And when it's all over, we will all be right here to do the Boot Scoop Boogie together, because you've survived it. It will be a little like getting a shot or having surgery or something, Witz. It will be bad, and then it will be over.

Finally, this part of it will be over. And though, as the years pass, L and her father may still be doing all they can to hurt you...you will be stronger, you will be seeing more clearly by then, Witz.

That will be good.

Cedar
 

scent of cedar

New Member
My biggest problem is my knee jerk reactions. I just get insane. I honestly don't think that getting insane in reaction is all that bad. When someone dumps a big load of crazy on you it's bound to make you crazy.

Witz, your response to the horrible, soul-destroying things that have happened to you at the hands of these people you should have been able to trust, should have been able to love and to be loved by...that is not, and could never be, an insane or knee jerk reaction. I know it doesn't sound very nice, but the imagery I'm getting is not something insane, but something like the frantic, hopeless struggle a hanged man makes after the bottom falls out.

He dies in public too, Witz. Just like your family relishes tormenting you in public.

This is something someone told me, once. As I began to acknowledge that the way I grew up had been abusive (and that is a big first step, all on its own), the therapist said that I needed, not only to recognize and grieve what had happened, but to recognize, and grieve for, all the good things that did not happen. There is a kind of strength to be found in acknowledging the loss of the good things, Witz. It helped me to see the meanness and stupidity of the choices the abuser repeatedly made. It helped me to see that the abuse was nothing personal to me.

That is also a key thing that needs to happen for us, before we can heal.

We need to understand how abnormal, how really strangely abnormal, our abuser must have been to choose to do what he or she did instead of doing something good.

Well, I might not know what I'm talking about, here. These were important pieces for me. I hope they help you, too.

Let's see. This is the worst story of abusive parenting I ever heard. I was in group therapy for family of origin issues at one time. One of the ladies there told about her father physically beating her and then, berating her for looking so ugly, with tears and snot and whatever else he did to her. Then? He took a Polaroid picture of her, Witz. You know those old cameras which used to develop the picture right in the camera and then, there it was?

Yeah, one of those.

He showed it to her, Witz. Shoved it in her face shouting about how ugly she was, about how she better never forget it, had better never think she was better than he knew her to be because he had PROOF. Horrible, huh? We were all in our early forties by the time we were in therapy together, trying to stand up long enough to heal, even just a little. And that woman, who was a powerful, competent woman in her real life, broke all down when she told us that. Though intellectually she knew the father was dead and the picture, long since dissolved away...she lived in horror that it would be found, Witz.

I've never forgotten that story.

There is evil out there, Witz. But when we have been the victim, we can't see it for what it is, and we carry shame that does not belong to us and never did.

At least, that was true, for me.

Cedar
 

scent of cedar

New Member
The truth shall set you free

You're only as sick as your secrets.


*****************************************************
*******************************************************

CEDAR

I think it is how we see ourselves reflected in our parents' eyes that becomes our secret truth, Recovering. If we can ferret it out, if we can stand to look at it, we find that, whatever any particular incidence of abuse involved, that truth in the abuser's eyes was always the same. For me, that truth in my mother's eyes was, and still is...contempt.

My mother is very controlling. I come away from any time spent with her feeling like a person so stupid I should hardly be allowed to walk around without a keeper. From what I remember of him, this was true of her father, my grandfather, too. He was very well dressed, but would stare directly into your eyes, counting and weighing and measuring and shriveling your soul before he said something awful like, "You little brat. You little snot."

And I'm talking like, at breakfast.

I think it was supposed to have been a joke.

Rumor has it that he was sexually abusive to his daughters. My sister reports a direct experience with him as an adult.

My mother, whatever else she did, kept us far away from her family of origin.

So, that seems to be the source of my mother's problems. I am sure she fought a battle as courageous as any samurai, to reclaim herself to the degree she has.

She pretty firmly believes and is oh, so quick to say, that every one she knows is stupid. (I don't mean she says, "Oh, darn it. Everyone I know is stupid."

:O)

No.

One at a time, she berates those who accept her. I think the underlying dynamic may be that anyone who cherishes her must not be worth her time. She talks about the person, laughs at their stupidity or incompetence with others behind their backs. Destroying their reputations among their mutual friends, she isolates them. Then, she is very nice, very helpful, very much the person in control to their faces. This is the pattern with her friends, her family of origin, her husband (and, after she was widowed, the man she planned to marry within just a few months of my father's death and non-funeral.)

And of course, this is how she interacts with her children.

**************************************************************
**************************************************************

RECOVERING

Another helpful note for me is that as Brene Brown says, shame lives in the dark, once we start telling our "stories" and telling our truth, we become "shame resilient" and healthier, happier and freer to be ourselves.


*******************************************************************
*******************************************************************

CEDAR

I agree, Recovering...sitting with the feelings and surviving them, which can only happen when we have enough understanding of the process to counter the soul-killing toxicity that scarred us in the first place, calms the fear response, or the shame response, to something survivable. Once we have seen the worst of it, we own it instead of it owning us. We've come through it.

There is a book (The Jesus Incident) in which people are tortured while being filmed. This is done by the government to guarantee loyalty through breaking the spirit. Those who have gone through the experience are never shown the film. But they know it exists, and that someone knows things about them they do not know, themselves. Terrible things. No one talks about it openly, because all are vulnerable. The place is called The Scream Room. They are drugged during the process, so they are not sure what they did, how they responded, whether they hurt someone else. In that imaginary society, there is a game, outlawed by the government, in which people run naked around the perimeter of the compound, vulnerable to a multitude of savage animals. Those who make it win nothing of any value.

But they recover their self respect.

That is why the game is outlawed.

That is how I see this journey we are on. It is dangerous to go back, to relive the emotional scarring. But once you understand there is a way to heal, however risky it is, some of us just have to run that perimeter. We have to know what we did in the Scream Room.

*****************************************************
****************************************************

RECOVERING

We hold the secrets of our parents cruelties and when we stop keeping that inside and bring it out to the light, my belief and my experience says, we get healed.

****************************************************************
*****************************************************************

CEDAR

I think we heal if we can counter the shaming things we accepted as our names during the abusive incidents, and during surviving a life lived with someone who identified us to ourselves as someone who can be beaten, taunted, threatened. We are fortunate to have found a way out.

*************************************************
**********************************************

RECOVERING

I think healing results in not only hearing differently, but seeing, speaking, knowing, understanding, and perceiving differently. I have almost no relationship with my 4 siblings because as I have gotten healthier, I have popped out of that 'reality by agreement' that my whole family lived/lives within.................and in popping out I can see it way differently and they just can't because they are steeped in that reality, in fact, buried in it.


*****************************************************************
**************************************************************

CEDAR

I see this in my family of origin too, Recovering. That is why my response to my sister so shocked me. I try really hard not to do things to surprise or hurt them. But this time, I did. I know better. There has been so much pain, there have been so many rejections, for all of us. I don't want to add to that. I'm not exactly proud of myself. I did it because I was angry at being patronized, again and again. There was nothing gained by my action, other than to challenge the reality of what we wish we had, the reality of pretending there is something real there. Maybe, because of this, we will begin to establish something real in future. Or maybe, as you have had to do, I will lose even what I have. I sometimes think that would be preferable. In fact, I think that may be what we have. It's just that no one has acknowledged it.


*************************************************
*************************************************

RECOVERING

I have come to a certain neutrality and forgiveness where my parents are concerned, I realized awhile back that they were treated in much the same way they treated us, wounded children raising wounded children.


********************************************************
********************************************************

CEDAR

This is absolutely true, Recovering. The difference is that my mother seems to relish power-over. While she is achingly vulnerable in so many ways, she is dangerously perceptive, and will cut to the quick, instantly and with great joy.

*********************************************************
********************************************************

RECOVERING

She was crying and said, "that's what my mother did to me." That moment stopped me dead in my tracks, I hadn't known that part and I just felt so much empathy for her, for me, for my grandmother, for all of us.

**********************************************
***********************************************

CEDAR

I feel that too, Recovering. That, and anger, and a desperate kind of hurry up and get better so I don't continue passing bad things along without realizing it. In working with the Osteen materials, I discovered that I was carrying a belief that my kids were not going to make it. I don't want that stuff to be the message I am sending, subconsciously. It's so frustrating. I do try, though.

********************************************
********************************************

RECOVERING

I think we send out a different energy, that child within us sends out a strong signal to the bully that we are defenseless.................perhaps letting that child within know that you will protect her, to soothe her..........that inner child work is pretty powerful stuff......it's helped me a lot.


*************************************************
************************************************

CEDAR

There is a man in my Tai Chi class who was telling me about his meditation class. He said that, as we heal through meditation and the energy chakras are opened, the scents of our bodies changes. Isn't that interesting.
:smile:

Thank you, Recovering. Knowing you will read this and help me figure it out is like having a really good therapist. Knowing you will share your story with me, too, is like having a witness who has been there, who has won her own battles, and who is strong where I am not. Sometimes, I get to feel I have been strong for you, too.

:O)

Wishing you, Recovering, and Witz, and everyone who is following along with us a joyful Thanksgiving and Hanukka. My wish for all of is is that this time we will share with our friends or our families strengthens us, and allows us to see one another with compassion, and with trust and joy.

I think that as we heal, as we become less vulnerable ourselves, it is easier to experience our times together in this fuller, more meaningful way.

Off to make pumpkin and apple pies. We are having Thanksgivukka at our house, this year. One of our neighbors is Jewish. He will be lighting the menorah here with us at sunset, and is bringing potato latkes to go with the turkey, gravy, potatoes and etc.
 

recoveringenabler

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Witz, one of my many therapists once told me that "when you engage with crazy people, you yourself become crazy." She then went on to show me physically by pretending she had a sword in her hand and she mimicked the act of attempting to slice through an opponent.............she said if you respond the sword gets stuck and you are now engaged in this combat............ however, if you are neutral, standing in your truth, the sword goes through smoothly, each slash going through as if you are invisible, the neutrality keeps you safe, there is nothing to stop the sword..........you are NOT engaged.......... it ends.........

That comment and that imagery made a lot of sense to me. It made me recognize that I did not want to engage with crazy people anymore, it's a toxic environment and whatever I had to learn to keep myself out of it, was what became my intention. Certainly life pulls us in to these creepy places at times, but how I respond to them is under my control and I practice being what that therapist called a "Samurai", someone who does not engage in unnecessary battles they cannot win.

It's a practice, something I aspire to pull off, sometimes I make it, sometimes I don't, but it makes more sense to me to be that Samurai.
 

recoveringenabler

Well-Known Member
Staff member
Cedar, I'm glad you had a good day yesterday, in spite of your kids present shenanigans.

You have been strong for me Cedar, your words are often a soothing, warm, healing support for my own sometimes weary heart. I am most grateful for you.

I'm so sorry your mother reflected contempt in her eyes............that contempt was likely directed inward first, particularly if she had been a victim of incest, self hatred is paramount then. But you certainly didn't deserve that contempt, you deserved LOVE and to be cherished as all children do. I'm glad you are reclaiming that self love now.

I still don't think your interaction with your sister was in any way unkind. Perhaps in simply telling the truth sometimes we need to blow up the illusion and that can only be done with what my friend laughingly calls "truth grenades." Denial can't be gently pushed aside, it doesn't respond to "being nice" because being nice is often part of denial. You stepped out of your role and blew up the lie, that takes courage Cedar and it requires that we have a certain strength within, an inner certainty, only gained by healing those parts of us that keep us stuck in the collective lie. Stop beating yourself up about it! You didn't do anything wrong, you stepped out of the FOG and told the truth. That is a gateway to a healthier relationship with your sister IF she can meet you on this new ground. She may not be able to, but that doesn't mean you should stop telling the truth. It is not hurting her, it is giving her an option to be in an honest connection with you............or not, but you opened the door however, she has to step in. It's hard for us to stop being NICE, but being NICE isn't being real, being yourself and telling the truth is being authentic.

I enjoy these interactions with you Cedar, and Witz, us wounded warriors learning to love ourselves.........

What is happening with your kids Cedar? How are YOU?

I have an update about my difficult child which I will open a new thread about now............
 

scent of cedar

New Member
Oh, good. I have thought about you and your family so many times through this Thanksgiving. I think the last we heard, your daughter had, with your family's welcome, been invited, but had not responded with whether she would be there.

I hope she came, and that everyone was able to find common ground.

Um...I will start a new thread about my kids, too.

Oy vey.

On the other hand, we did have a very nice time together here, yesterday. The latkes are a very good thing. Like a potato pancake. Very crispy. You eat them with sour cream and applesauce.

Very good.

The neighbor whose wife has died brought homemade guacamole! He did a really nice job, and arranged everything beautifully. We couldn't have been more surprised! It was delicious.

Cedar
 

scent of cedar

New Member
There is alot of strength in this simple motto.

We have to be so strong to accept the outcomes, though.

Very, very hard, to know how to do that.

Understanding that it is possible to view our situations with our kids in this way is a good first step. It seems to me that once we begin seeing the lie beneath those old, enabling thoughts, it will be easier.

Maybe it will even seem simple.

Sure is hard to get there, though.

Cedar
 

InsaneCdn

Well-Known Member
Sure is hard to get there, though.
"There" being... where? to accepting the outcome?
Somehow, that's always the hardest part, at least for me.
The other two pieces are in my control, somewhat. The outcome is not. But it's the part that we have to live with.
 

scent of cedar

New Member
That's what I'm trying to figure out too, ICD.

In my thinking, when I get "there" I will be able to see what is happening without judging either myself or my kids for where they are, or for where they are going or not going.

That is an important piece.

I think it might be the key piece in accomplishing what we call detachment.

Scott G brought that up in his response to a thread in SA. He said something about accepting that his son is doing what he is doing, and about accepting that he may be doing that forever without judging him. That is huge in accepting the outcome, I think. I am so horrified at what my kids do and who they do it with and why they do it that most of the time, I feel like that lady in Caddy Shack. You know, the one who orders all the caddies out of the pool and has it bleached because she thinks one of the caddies did something bad in the water?

That's me.

And I mean, it's sort of funny that I feel so offended, so horribly shocked at some of the things they do? But it's not really, because agonizing over what the kids have been up to lately has taken over my life for a really long time. In so many ways, I feel ashamed and somehow, offended, that these are the people I contributed to the world.

There is another key, another internal belief that keeps me hooked into trying to change the kids. I don't want this to be my contribution.

****

So, "there" would be a place where our primary energies are devoted, as they should be once our children are adults, to our own curiosities and concerns.

No more ordering everyone out of the pool so I can clean it up. If they want to do bad things in the water, then they can swim in it all they like.

**************

But in posting to you, I realize how much of what husband and I try to do has to do with changing what my kids are likely to contribute to making the world better ~ how much those dreams we harbor when we are raising our children still affect me. I really am horrified at what my kids are doing, at who they've become.

Who would have thought it?

I am really ashamed. I feel like I have a responsibility to fix it because these are my kids, my contribution to the world.

*****

Our children's lives will be peripheral to us, once we get "there". I think that is how it feels when the people you love are happily doing well. You can let go of them. When those we love suffer, the natural thing is not to just turn away and stop thinking about them. But when the kids are continually in trouble, it becomes a question of how much of our life energy, how much of our strength and youth and treasure we are going to give over to them with nothing, absolutely nothing, to show for it.

That is what husband and I say every time we have gone that extra mile to help either one of our kids. That the worst of it is that all that time, energy, and treasure is gone and there is nothing, nothing at all, not even joy or the satisfaction of a job well done, to show for it.

We are just poorer, tireder, more disillusioned, more resentful.

Time can never be recovered.

All that time, all those nights spent fighting or crying or numb.

So, we decide to learn how to extract ourselves from an endless treadmill of repetitive drama that isn't even all that dramatic anymore and yet, endlessly and again, demands our time, energy, strength and treasure.

I'm thinking it has to do with admitting how ugly so much of it has been, how pointlessly, endlessly, ugly. We allow things from our children and extended families that we would not even consider, had it come from anywhere else.

On the other hand...oh, whatever. I'm still pretty confused about everything, too.

We'll get it. I am seeing where I need to get to a little more clearly with every question, with every layer I peel back. Recovering's Thanksgiving post is really helpful in understanding how to let go of outcome, ICD. If you haven't read that one yet, that would be a good one.

Also, Scott G's response to me on the detachment/update thread.

Cedar
 
Last edited:

scent of cedar

New Member
And I mean, it's sort of funny that I feel so offended, so horribly shocked at some of the things they do?

Actually, I don't think it's one bit funny that I have allowed myself to be made to feel that my reactions are over-reactions. I really am so horrified, so totally offended at what difficult child daughter has done and is doing that it makes me sick to my stomach. But...it seems wrong to feel that when I should be being supportive, so I don't.

In any event, being supportive hasn't worked.

Cedar

On the contribution part? The answer to having made such an abysmal contribution as parents is to pour all this effort into creating and nurturing something else.

Like Scott G posted: No expectations that the kids are going to change, and no judgments against them.

But here's the thing: I don't know anyone like that AND I DON'T WANT TO. The only reason I talk to my kids, the only reason I keep trying to make this something better is because they ARE my kids.

I saw a panhandler the other day. Whereas MWM is so kind and gentle with them? I felt like smacking him one and asking him what his mother thought of what he was doing.
 

Childofmine

one day at a time
Detachment is so freaking hard and scary, and it goes against everything I ever knew and felt and wanted as the mother of a precious son. It is unnatural. But after I started getting a little taste of it, I liked it. It gave me some peace. And so, I have continued the hard work. Still working.

It's remembering. Remembering that I have tried every single thing in the world to help him and Nothing, but nothing has worked. In fact, it's just gotten worse. Remembering all of the things that have happened, each really more horrifying than the last.

It's being sick and tired. Oh, I am so, so sick and tired. I hate drama now. I hate lies. I hate the relentless pushing and pulling for something. I hate the lack of responsibility. The blaming. The victimhood. Help me, help me, pay for this, do this, take me, make it happen. I hate all of it from a 24yo. It's just wrong.

It's listening to other people's stories and seeing that they are exactly like my story. There is nothing unique here, in any of our stories. This is a certainty in the numbers of stories and how they all take the same course.

It's realizing that when I'm talking to him I bring all my love with me. He doesn't. I'm no match for that.

Within the past three weeks I have taken another step forward. At first it really scared me. I didn't like it because I just felt empty toward him. I was thinking more about myself and how the next thing would affect me, not him. That was new. In a way, I feel like he is gone. Like someone said here, detachment is a sort of death.

I could get lost in grief about it, but strangely I have not. I have already grieved so much. Maybe I am through with grief for now.

I just feel free. I feel like I am finally, finally getting it.

From Dec. 21 til January 2 he was homeless. One day he texted me from his computer 262 times. Just dots and question marks. My detachment, my real detachment, took a giant step forward that day. That was nothing but simple pure harassment.

And I am worth more than that. I have loved him to he#$ and back. I have stood by him. I don't deserve any of this.

Today, it's really more about me. Oh, I'm sure I will falter again. I will enable again. But I'm even okay with that. I am okay with my mistakes as long as I continue to make progress. My prayer is this: Thank you, thank you, thank you. Help me, help me, help me. Help me stay out of the way of my precious son and of others in my life. Help me mind my own business. Help me focus on myself and how I need to change to be a better person. That's a full time job and if I'm working that job, I don't have time for any part-time jobs.
 

Scent of Cedar *

Well-Known Member
I was thinking more about myself and how the next thing would affect me, not him.

That does seem to be the turning point. Before we can reach it, we have to pierce through that part of us that sees them as children, that part that feels responsible for what they do. I am not sure whether that part is an ego problem with the parent or whether we just slip into it over time with a kid going a wrong way?

Or maybe, what we slip into is denial. As you posted, when we clearly see that the child is an adult, we do not feel responsible.

We have to see the kids as adults, just like us. Once we do (if we can) see them as adults, as people making choices about who and how they will be in their lives just like we have to do...then we are free.

Or at least, we can see what freedom looks like, can see how it would feel, to be free.

So, the ultimate harm in enabling is that, unless he has the strength to rebel, to tell the hovering parent to back off, the adult child is forced to continue in the role of hapless child to the parent's martyred glorification.

No wonder there is so much anger buried on both sides.

Cedar

Additionally, that phrase about thinking about how it affects you, not him, works for every single thing in life. For those too empathic, it is a key to healthy outlook on every level.

But it is very, very hard work to get there.
 
Last edited:

Childofmine

one day at a time
That does seem to be the turning point. Before we can reach it, we have to pierce through that part of us that sees them as children, that part that feels responsible for what they do. I am not sure whether that part is an ego problem with the parent or whether we just slip into it over time with a kid going a wrong way?

Or maybe, what we slip into is denial. As you posted, when we clearly see that the child is an adult, we do not feel responsible.

We have to see the kids as adults, just like us. Once we do (if we can) see them as adults, as people making choices about who and how they will be in their lives just like we have to do...then we are free.

Or at least, we can see what freedom looks like, can see how it would feel, to be free.

So, the ultimate harm in enabling is that, unless he has the strength to rebel, to tell the hovering parent to back off, the adult child is forced to continue in the role of hapless child to the parent's martyred glorification.

No wonder there is so much anger buried on both sides.

Cedar

Additionally, that phrase about thinking about how it affects you, not him, works for every single thing in life. For those too empathic, it is a key to healthy outlook on every level.

But it is very, very hard work to get there.
I like what you said about being too empathetic. I was too empathetic in all of my relationships for most is my life, even before all of this with my difficult child. I needed more distance anyway between myself and other people. I needed to focus on my own self and my own life more. But as that was MUCH more uncomfortable and hard, I would quickly get back to somebody else. Today I am learning to sit still with discomfort, fear and uncertainty. To stay with it, let it pass through me and over me, and rest in it. I find if I can do that, whether for five minutes or longer, I can stay on my side of the street much better.
 

Childofmine

one day at a time
God good for you. I look forward to the day I am that strong

Sent using ConductDisorders mobile app


Hi aud. I don't feel strong really. I do feel stronger, focus on the "er". I do feel more centered more of the time, more settled and secure inside myself, more calm and sure. I am working to connect my head and my heart more. My head gets it a lot more than my heart.

All of me gets it so much more of the time than I used to. A lot of the time. Certainly not all of the time.

When my son is "somewhere", like jail, I get more of the calm, settled feelings. This is his third time homeless and I am finding that I am getting more of those calm feelings even then. The first time I was a complete wreck.

This time, he went back to a McDonald's restaurant to "live", same place had "lived" for 30 days in Sept./Oct. 2013. Who even knew you could live at a McDonald's? Bless them as homeless people have to be somewhere, but wow.

I had a vision of him huddled outside against the brick building, in between the professionally landscaped and mulched beds, curled into a little ball against the cold north wind, hungry. I don't think it was that way at all. Even though he said it was so I, wow, I painted a very vivid picture in my mind. But I still didn't go and get him.

When he left McDonald's this time on Jan. 2, 2014, I learned that he was inside, using people's cell phones, smoking cigarettes. I know this because he called me from one particular phone. I called it back once and a girl answered (found out later she was an employee) and handed him the phone.

He obviously was inside. He was blowing smoke into the phone. I could hear it.

I bought him a bus ticket back to our town as I had said I would when he was in rehab (before he got kicked out for failing a drug test). I could have reneged on that commitment but I couldn't think that fast at the time so I followed through. He had been there since Dec. 21 when he was kicked out of rehab. He played the Christmas card but neither my exhusband or myself bit. We are really really tired of it all.

So, I also arranged for the Sheriff's department to meet the bus. I had to think long and hard about that. But I decided it was the best thing for me. Otherwise, he would be on my front porch, and THEN I would call the Sheriff's Department because as I told him clearly, you can't come here. This time, I was able to say, you can't come here because you have a warrant out for your arrest and I'm not going to be part of allowing you here when that is the case. That is easier than just having to say: You can't come here.

But I have said that too, and I am sure (sadly) I will have to dig deep and find whatever it takes to say that again. OR---maybe---if I can stay out of the way long enough, he will turn, and go in a new direction. That is my daily fervent prayer.

I am learning so much. Listening to other people share and tell their stories and what they have learned. One thing I am learning is that being homeless, while incomprehensible to me, can be tolerable. One man, who has a master's and a PhD and is in recovery, told me that he lived in Florida once before he started recovering, on the street for seven months, homeless, and he really didn't care that much. He said it was okay. Wow. I had to get my mind around that.

As Cedar said, I am truly starting to see my son as an adult, instead of the precious red-headed, freckled face little boy he was. Wow, he was so cute. One time someone came up to me and said, you should get him some child modeling jobs, he is so cute. He also has a great smile, even now (years of braces! : ). But I am starting to realize and recognize that he isn't my little baby or my little boy. I can torture myself with all of the pictures all over my house of him and his brother (27 year old easy child) but neither of them is that person today.

My difficult child is a grown man, and even though he has a terrible, awful, baffling, cunning, powerful disease that is at least 40 feet tall---a monster---he is a man. And he can choose recovery. But he doesn't. He would rather take drugs than anything.

So...I am not as strong as I would like to be but I am definitely stronger than I used to be. And today, he is in jail so that is good for me. In view of it all, you know.
 
Top