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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 751700" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: rgb(20, 20, 20)">Dear Sad. There are several particulars that are the same for me and my son who is now almost 31. The major difference is my son's history. I adopted him at 22 months, and he was exposed before that to difficulties that only really manifested after he grew up. </span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: rgb(20, 20, 20)">For my son, the issues started at about 19 and worsened at age 22. This is the time when several mental types of mental illness reveal themselves such as schizophrenia and bipolar and mood disorders. </span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: rgb(20, 20, 20)"></span></p> <p style="text-align: left"><span style="color: rgb(20, 20, 20)">This happened to us, too:</span></p><p></p><p>My son has been hospitalized several times, usually for suicidal ideation or threats. He has been diagnosed as bipolar, social phobia, agoraphobia, mood disorder, and worse things. He has also had a brain injury. He believes in and talks incessantly about conspiracy theories, chemtrails, and the like (including weirdnesses like reptilians and illuminati, and apocalyptic themes, which leads clinicians to believe he may be psychotic.)</p><p>I told my son to leave at age 23 because he would not seek treatment. Or do anything. Like work or go to school. He was also hostile. Not violent but aggressive. Busting doors and walls. I go back and forth about whether this was wrong of me. To make him leave. (There is no RIGHT thing to do in our situation.) </p><p></p><p>Just like your son he has couch surfed, been homeless, paying money to live in sheds or a garage, an abandoned car, sleeping in somebody's pickup truck, etc. In homeless shelters for short times. He has never established a permanent, independent domicile. Most of the time he's been in a major metro two hours from me.</p><p></p><p>He has come back and forth to where we live, through these years, but it has never worked, even though most of those times he's lived in a property I own but not with me. He was unwilling to follow basic rules. Particularly about marijuana on the property. Nor did he want to reliably pay rent, preferring to use his SSI on marijuana and other personal items.</p><p></p><p>I have consistently insisted this: He not have marijuana or use it on my property. He must pay rent reliably. He must seek and accept medical care, including mental health treatment. He must cooperate and treat us with respect. He must have a goal and do something productive. </p><p></p><p>I have kicked him out, I think, for every single one of these things. Multiple times. He has been back again for 2 months. He is living with M, a man I lived with 10 years, who now lives apart.</p><p></p><p>When I kick him out I am like you. Despondent. Except perhaps worse. I am unable to function. I worry about him, yes. But it's more than this. I need to be connected to him. I can't detach as many other mothers can.</p><p></p><p>Many mothers here over the years have counseled me to change. To accept my son back without conditions. They have seen how I become when he is away. You see. My son is not like the other young adults that bring people here. He goes down the drain right away. He needs the support of somebody who loves and helps him. He needs a bottom line.</p><p></p><p>And I have accepted that I can't and won't live without a bottom line. I can't let him live like a homeless person around me. I can't let him not do anything, ever. I can't let him not get medical care. I can't help him want nothing for himself and live that way all his life and watch it as long as I live. I just can't do it.</p><p></p><p>So. We keep pushing. I keep repeating what he needs to do. He does a little of it. Less and less he's using the marijuana near us. This month he paid the whole rent. Today he said he would apply to go back to college (online) this quarter that starts in a couple of weeks. He said, <em>there's nothing else that makes sense</em>. </p><p></p><p>It is a process. When I think I have to live the rest of my life like this, I despair. But then when he said that about college, my heart sang.</p><p></p><p>I am studying my religion. One of the teachings is to accept reality as it is. That every moment has the potential for good and bad. And that we do ourselves no favors trying to distort things to avoid facing the bad. There is also the belief in the potential for transformation. That we are not stuck in the bad. As long as we face it.</p><p></p><p>There is a very famous psychologist. Marsha Linehan. She was institutionalized as schizophrenic as a very young woman. She was the originator of Dialectical Behavioral Therapy. </p><p></p><p>If we shelter our sons from life, we shelter them from their potential.</p><p></p><p>I think I needed that my son leave and go out into the world. If he would not cooperate or do the right thing for himself or for his family. I don't think there is anywhere in the world that somebody can or should act badly without consequence. Whether they are mentally ill or not.</p><p></p><p>I have gone on and on telling you about us, because it's hard for me to remember what I think without embedding it in our years and years of struggle. But I do believe what I write. If your son was verbally abusive, and if your son would not stop using a substance you believed harmed him and affected his behavior, and if your son did not seek and accept treatment, I think that there was no right answer for you. Just like for me. To keep sheltering him, given his disordered choices, was to give consent and to support those choices. How could you do that? How could I?</p><p></p><p>My son more than any other time is trying. Some. He is cooperating. More than before. He feels bad and apologizes when he hurts me. Some.</p><p></p><p>I am thinking here of those ropes kids play with and I think pirates or seamen do too. I forget the name. What is it called tug a war? I don't remember. I'm old. But each team holds an end of the rope. And they pull and pull. In different directions. Each team.</p><p></p><p>I think of my life like that, sometimes, with my son. That my role is to hold the end of the rope, and not let go. And pull and pull. Sometimes I don't know why I am pulling. Other times, I remember.</p><p></p><p>What would happen if I let go? I guess that's why I can't and won't detach completely. I believe there is a reason I hold on. </p><p></p><p>Welcome to you. I am very glad you are here. You will find support here. And you will come to better know and to accept yourself. I think. Love.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 751700, member: 18958"] [LEFT][COLOR=rgb(20, 20, 20)]Dear Sad. There are several particulars that are the same for me and my son who is now almost 31. The major difference is my son's history. I adopted him at 22 months, and he was exposed before that to difficulties that only really manifested after he grew up. For my son, the issues started at about 19 and worsened at age 22. This is the time when several mental types of mental illness reveal themselves such as schizophrenia and bipolar and mood disorders. This happened to us, too:[/COLOR][/LEFT] My son has been hospitalized several times, usually for suicidal ideation or threats. He has been diagnosed as bipolar, social phobia, agoraphobia, mood disorder, and worse things. He has also had a brain injury. He believes in and talks incessantly about conspiracy theories, chemtrails, and the like (including weirdnesses like reptilians and illuminati, and apocalyptic themes, which leads clinicians to believe he may be psychotic.) I told my son to leave at age 23 because he would not seek treatment. Or do anything. Like work or go to school. He was also hostile. Not violent but aggressive. Busting doors and walls. I go back and forth about whether this was wrong of me. To make him leave. (There is no RIGHT thing to do in our situation.) Just like your son he has couch surfed, been homeless, paying money to live in sheds or a garage, an abandoned car, sleeping in somebody's pickup truck, etc. In homeless shelters for short times. He has never established a permanent, independent domicile. Most of the time he's been in a major metro two hours from me. He has come back and forth to where we live, through these years, but it has never worked, even though most of those times he's lived in a property I own but not with me. He was unwilling to follow basic rules. Particularly about marijuana on the property. Nor did he want to reliably pay rent, preferring to use his SSI on marijuana and other personal items. I have consistently insisted this: He not have marijuana or use it on my property. He must pay rent reliably. He must seek and accept medical care, including mental health treatment. He must cooperate and treat us with respect. He must have a goal and do something productive. I have kicked him out, I think, for every single one of these things. Multiple times. He has been back again for 2 months. He is living with M, a man I lived with 10 years, who now lives apart. When I kick him out I am like you. Despondent. Except perhaps worse. I am unable to function. I worry about him, yes. But it's more than this. I need to be connected to him. I can't detach as many other mothers can. Many mothers here over the years have counseled me to change. To accept my son back without conditions. They have seen how I become when he is away. You see. My son is not like the other young adults that bring people here. He goes down the drain right away. He needs the support of somebody who loves and helps him. He needs a bottom line. And I have accepted that I can't and won't live without a bottom line. I can't let him live like a homeless person around me. I can't let him not do anything, ever. I can't let him not get medical care. I can't help him want nothing for himself and live that way all his life and watch it as long as I live. I just can't do it. So. We keep pushing. I keep repeating what he needs to do. He does a little of it. Less and less he's using the marijuana near us. This month he paid the whole rent. Today he said he would apply to go back to college (online) this quarter that starts in a couple of weeks. He said, [I]there's nothing else that makes sense[/I]. It is a process. When I think I have to live the rest of my life like this, I despair. But then when he said that about college, my heart sang. I am studying my religion. One of the teachings is to accept reality as it is. That every moment has the potential for good and bad. And that we do ourselves no favors trying to distort things to avoid facing the bad. There is also the belief in the potential for transformation. That we are not stuck in the bad. As long as we face it. There is a very famous psychologist. Marsha Linehan. She was institutionalized as schizophrenic as a very young woman. She was the originator of Dialectical Behavioral Therapy. If we shelter our sons from life, we shelter them from their potential. I think I needed that my son leave and go out into the world. If he would not cooperate or do the right thing for himself or for his family. I don't think there is anywhere in the world that somebody can or should act badly without consequence. Whether they are mentally ill or not. I have gone on and on telling you about us, because it's hard for me to remember what I think without embedding it in our years and years of struggle. But I do believe what I write. If your son was verbally abusive, and if your son would not stop using a substance you believed harmed him and affected his behavior, and if your son did not seek and accept treatment, I think that there was no right answer for you. Just like for me. To keep sheltering him, given his disordered choices, was to give consent and to support those choices. How could you do that? How could I? My son more than any other time is trying. Some. He is cooperating. More than before. He feels bad and apologizes when he hurts me. Some. I am thinking here of those ropes kids play with and I think pirates or seamen do too. I forget the name. What is it called tug a war? I don't remember. I'm old. But each team holds an end of the rope. And they pull and pull. In different directions. Each team. I think of my life like that, sometimes, with my son. That my role is to hold the end of the rope, and not let go. And pull and pull. Sometimes I don't know why I am pulling. Other times, I remember. What would happen if I let go? I guess that's why I can't and won't detach completely. I believe there is a reason I hold on. Welcome to you. I am very glad you are here. You will find support here. And you will come to better know and to accept yourself. I think. Love. [/QUOTE]
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