34 year old son is killing my soul

[Copabanana]

Dear beebz:

In my quest to find your Boxer puppy's name, I have been finding all of these posts of yours that I never saw. I wanted to ask how he's doing in his recovery from the sad event of his imbibing a ping pong ball. (An aside: I've been thinking of getting a puppy. I've been a Boxer's person too for 30 years, and 3 Boxers, and ours too, died a year ago. I've been thinking of trying another breed, either a Staffy or Standard Poodle. But reading about your new baby has me longing for another Boxer.)

I once told my husband, in 1960's non-politically correct language, if he is retarded, it is our job to take care of him. He is sick in the head.

There have been parents here who have made this choice. I struggle with the same thing with my own son. Whether or not my role is to try to protect him. Even though he is destroying himself. At this point I still believe he is better off fighting his own fight; I believe my harboring him is a cage, a prison, as long as he is not grappling with his demons. But that's today, I think this. I don't always.

My brother is dead from the drug life.

Fast forward my own son

I am dealing with this too. My father was an alcoholic and drug addict who died on Skid Row; as were my son's birth parents.

For so many years I have cried out from the pain of this hall of mirrors/memories. Over time I have come to some acceptance. For my son, I now see the strength and the potential that comes from confronting pain of the past. At the same time I recognize painfully that he may never do so. While I tried through much therapy to overcome my past, I ran from it through aspirations and ambition, until it overran me, in my old age. Our pain always runs faster and farther than we can.

I see that now as a gift of sources. (Although I can think of a thousand things I would want more.) And now I know about intergenerational trauma, ancestral trauma, and how even our children, like your son, can be carriers of it. And certainly, I carry it.

That my son could have escaped carrying some of his parents burden, was a fantasy on my part. He's better off engaging with it. I don't mean, repeating it. I mean doing battle with it. Having the manifest reality of it show up in his life, and overcoming. When I think about life like that.

There are realities about life. That it leads to death, is one. How can I stop death? I can't even stop my own. However ludicrous that sounds, I still think I can have control here. I can't. If I could accept this, I would be more free. I will work on it.

 

[Copabanana]

he tells me stories of "others" when really its him and he knows I'd figure it out but why? I beg him to go to rehab all the time but why does he tell me things, why does he want me to know?

I think all of us are driven to tell our stories in one way or another. I think that people die inside if they feel they can't write their stories on life. I think it is a good thing your son wants you to know his true life although I can only imagine the pain of this for you. I think by telling you your son is trying to work it out, to find some internal logic that will be a way out for him. In this, he is in error, I believe, because there is no inner logic within addiction that is a way out of it. I know because I have experienced addiction too. The only way out is to stop, and with that the web in time can lose it's power as we create an alternate reality.That's why it's so important now his stint in jail. This can offer him a way out.

 

[beebz]

Dear beebz:

In my quest to find your Boxer puppy's name, I have been finding all of these posts of yours that I never saw. I wanted to ask how he's doing in his recovery from the sad event of his imbibing a ping pong ball. (An aside: I've been thinking of getting a puppy. I've been a Boxer's person too for 30 years, and 3 Boxers, and ours too, died a year ago. I've been thinking of trying another breed, either a Staffy or Standard Poodle. But reading about your new baby has me longing for another Boxer.)There have been parents here who have made this choice. I struggle with the same thing with my own son. Whether or not my role is to try to protect him. Even though he is destroying himself. At this point I still believe he is better off fighting his own fight; I believe my harboring him is a cage, a prison, as long as he is not grappling with his demons. But that's today, I think this. I don't always.
I am dealing with this too. My father was an alcoholic and drug addict who died on Skid Row; as were my son's birth parents.

For so many years I have cried out from the pain of this hall of mirrors/memories. Over time I have come to some acceptance. For my son, I now see the strength and the potential that comes from confronting pain of the past. At the same time I recognize painfully that he may never do so. While I tried through much therapy to overcome my past, I ran from it through aspirations and ambition, until it overran me, in my old age. Our pain always runs faster and farther than we can.

I see that now as a gift of sources. (Although I can think of a thousand things I would want more.) And now I know about intergenerational trauma, ancestral trauma, and how even our children, like your son, can be carriers of it. And certainly, I carry it.

That my son could have escaped carrying some of his parents burden, was a fantasy on my part. He's better off engaging with it. I don't mean, repeating it. I mean doing battle with it. Having the manifest reality of it show up in his life, and overcoming. When I think about life like that.

There are realities about life. That it leads to death, is one. How can I stop death? I can't even stop my own. However ludicrous that sounds, I still think I can have control here. I can't. If I could accept this, I would be more free. I will work on it.

Hey Copa !
I'm trying to catch up on reading the forum but as soon as my "boobie" got in the chair with me, I thought I had to write you in a hurry lol - you MUST get another boxer, and then another any breed as a second dog.
I just can't live my life without a Boxer. I've had 4 (I think).
So, I just got in my chair to read, and Boo comes up to me with his look as only a Boxer can do. He looks at the leftover space in the recliner, eyes me, eyes the space, eyes me, eyes the space; I then move my self over a tad and his little butt squeezes right in under my left arm. He makes the teeniest little donut and cuddle time has begun. I won't get up until he's done; at least thats the excuse I use.
My mom kept telling me to get ANYTHING but a Boxer. She complains of his slobber etc but she gets on my nerves royally and she doesn't live with my (she does but we have our own space). I really did want another breed but just couldn't do it. The standard poodle has been on my bucket list. They are breathtaking, soft, smart and their face is adorable. So, get a Boxer, and then get a dog on the side, just don't tell your Boxer.
My dogs name is "Boo" - we call him "the boobie man, liddle booby man, boobs, boobie, boo, midda boobie man and probably more. He is black and white. He is 44 lbs but is huge boned and I would have guessed 70lbs at least until the Christmas debacle weight was 44.

Today is kinda my first day alone in a long time. I get busy and happy, then fall on my face in terrible sadness, heartbreak and confusion. This has repeated itself today through the laundry, phone calls to/with my bestie, chores etc. When my phone rings and I see that it is jail, it hurts like no other hurt I've ever had.

Funny thing is, my troubled son is the one who turned me on to Boxers. When he was 19 he begged me to rescue a dog. I went to visit said dog and said screw you dude, thats a pitbull. Well, Rockey ended up in my yard, then on my deck where I supplied blankets and food, then in my home, then in my heart and then when my son might have had an idea to take him with him to his apartment I said, "I'll see you in court". My son used to come home from work and say "whats the dog doing in the house". day after day after day after day the dog was in the house, alone, with me, when all the men left for the day at work or school. So, he became my first love. My son would give me that smile that only he could knowing my love for dogs is special and that Rocky was mine. I have friends that say if there is such a thing as reincarnation, they want to come back as one of my dogs.That dog was raised by me, Dr's bills, food, shelter, everything, and no one was going to take him and you can't call him "your" dog when he's in my house. It was said as a joke, but I really meant it. I have his ashes in a $400 hand carved box. That was love and now I'm on #4.

This #4 is a nightmare, he really is. I had him in school recently and well, lately he is showing aggression. He is strong, smart and of German decent. A friend of mine flew to Germany, got a male German Boxer, came back to the states, bred him and I must say, they are different, at least I think so. He just turned one and has had 3 surgeries already. He is very protective of my family. If he comes inside from playtime he takes inventory of all the humans he knows should be here and inventory of his siblings; a little girlie dog and a kitten. He prances like a show horse with long hopping, flowing strides. He herds strangers, or follows then when they move about my house. I don't think he'll ever hurt me and my babies (granddaughters) but I do think he'll bite a stranger or mailman or the like. But, I will suffer his years because I don't want to kill him, put him to sleep or let any other human have him. No one could love him as much as I do. I don't even let him get cold. I get up to use the loo in the middle of the night and cover him up - I'm sure you know how it is.

So, today its just me, granddaughters are gone, hubby went to work and I am home alone doing housework and being traumatized. Too many things have happened to me in this life. I am wounded and use sarcasm and comedy to cover it up I think. People love me greatly for who I am but Lord have mercy I have had a rough rough rough life in so many ways.
I'll pause there for now -
much love - ~beebz

 

[JMom]

Sorry you are hurting. That sucks!