Feeling Sad---Son is Homeless

[Feeling Sad]

Good morning, my dear friend Copa. I am very glad to hear that things are good for you. That is wonderful news! You have worked hard and have been through a lot.

No, I am not legally allowed to see my son. They probably would not find out, but if they did, I would be arrested if I was the one who actively reached out to him. I don't see my son contacting the police, but if I had to call the police for help, I, not my son, would be arrested, unless he hurt or killed me, of course.

I can't tell you how difficult this is to write...

He is not staying someplace, because by his bank records, he moves constantly. Maybe he is on medications, but I seriously doubt it.

The restraining order is for the longest time the judge could give...5 years. She looked right at me in court and told me that I will need to renew it before it lapsed. She took the threat very seriosly, as well she should.

I have been told by several therapists that I can never see him again because he could have killed me without realizing what he was doing. Yes, he loves me, but when someone has delusions and associated command hallucinations, all bets are off, sadly. Yes, he might fight his voices, but again, he might not win.

Voices can threaten him if he does not comply, and they usually do. The voices might tell him that he or his brothers would die if he does not kill me. Often when sons kill their mother, their voices tell them that they will be saving the world from the Devil, a demon, a terrorist, a spy...the list goes on exponentially.

TCO, or rather, Threat Control Override, is when they perform an action even when they will experience a punishment or repercussion. His fear of dying would supercede his concern of being in trouble for killing me.

In EVERYONE of the cases of a schizophrenic son killing his mother, he freely tells why she had to die and who was being saved. They see themselves as a hero. They also say that they loved their mom, but they HAD to kill her.

My sister, who became schizophrenic at age 13, jumped from a balcony. Her voices told her to do it. Yes, one would say that she could break her leg, but that did not stop her. My sister set ablaze a dress that my mother had just finished sewing. We lived in a severe fire area in the brush covered hills of Sherman Oaks. I could go on and on. She stopped eating and almost died in her adult life, because she thought that she was being poisoned. She was too weak to ever walk well again.

Yes, it is not allowed in the order, but I would break it to see him in a hospital or jail. But, he would never contact me because we are not allowed to call, or write either. I don't know his email, but that is off the list, as well.

If I had my youngest son place a missing persons, yes, they could call him if he ever went into a hospital. But, that does not mean that he would agree to let his brother see him. I, by court order, would not be allowed.

I have not had my son file a missing persons because before, when he ran off to Washington, they just stopped him and told him that he should call me. He would say that he should, but he couldn't. There was no restraining order then. His voices, or rather hallucinations, prevented him from doing so.

He would be impossible to find. I got taken by a bogus private investigator when my son ran off to Washington. I found out that he lived in Las Vegas, and just used my son's bank records to tell me where he had stayed...in the past. I was doing that myself! It cost me over $4,000 and I had to file an order to stop his services.

I spoke over the phone to one last year and he said that it would be expensive and that he would get parking lot tapes to find him. I told him that my son had told me that before, in Washington, he would park his car in a residential area on the street between 2 houses, as not to alert attention. He would move daily. By his records, this is exactly what he is doing. The private investigator then told me that it would be impossible.

Before, when I went up to Washington to try to find him, I just circled him staying at a hotel on one corner, going to Starbucks on another, and McDonald's at yet another. He was in the middle of the city block, which was all residential. I am sure that he saw the signs that I had put up at Starbucks. I am very psychic, but not in that instance. He keeps moving.

I could find him if I stayed a week or 2 in a parking lot in a rental car, as to not alert him, by a 24 Hour Fitness. He rotates, so I would have to pick one of them that I feel he goes to the most. He probably goes in the middle of the night to shower to avoid people. He was petrified of people. When he had to speak to someone, he would softly speak hurriedly with halting speech, while his eyes would quickly dart around, scanning for danger.

If I did find him, then what? Would I beg for him to talk to me while I grabbed his arm? How would I make him stay? His delusions and hallucinations make him fear me. He also has the very true fear of the restraining order...no contact is allowed or he could be arrested. Although, in this scenario, I would be the one who is arrested if the police got involved.

If, I did get him to talk to me, then what? For safety reasons alone, I could never have him live with me. Yes, I could help him to find a place to stay. I could rent him an apartment, but if found out, I would be arrested. He would probably refuse a group home or assisted apartments. Also, there are long lists for those and, big catch, he would have to be identified as being schizophrenic or mentally ill.

I feel that if I showed up, he would run away to a different state completely. It would scare him off. Maybe he would be rational enough to realize that I could be arrested.

Maybe he would run because he fears that he could hurt me and wants to keep me safe.

I have been told repeatedly that I should never be alone with him, so a dark parking lot, alone in the middle of the night, without police backup, might not be a safe choice.

As you can see, I have pondered...ad nauseum, every angle.

There is no good answer. I know that he is alive and the cities that he frequents...past tense. Always, after the fact.

When I had last month's bank record printed off at the bank, it showed that a moment earlier he had paid for food at a Taco Bell in a city an hour away.

I felt closer and on some strange level... connected.

There is no answer to this puzzle. One cannot think rationally when the other half of the equation, sadly, does not.

 

[Copabanana]

I could rent him an apartment, but if found out, I would be arrested. He would probably refuse a group home or assisted apartments.

I have never read you so clear about the situation. What you write is like an Escher drawing. Interconnected chaos in which you have no role, but everything at stake. The only thing to do, either look away or submit to the chaos. To keep trying to figure it out, I can see, is to keep constructing the net in which you are caught.

You may well not believe this Feeling, but when things began to change for me was when I prayed. I had never prayed before and did not know how to pray. But I have told you that I speak with a Rabbi most weeks now, for spiritual direction.

I kept saying: I want...I need. Realizing all the while that I had no control and that my attempts to control were worsening the situation making me more desperate and my son more angry.

So instead of I want I said: Please g-d, let him be safe. Please g-d let him live. Or something to that effect.

This must have calmed me so that I allowed space in the universe for what would happen to manifest. And it did.

The rabbi is telling me that I am changing paradigms. I can see this in so many ways, most of which I do not understand.

a moment earlier he had paid for food at a Taco Bell in a city an hour away.

I felt closer and on some strange level... connected.

This makes sense to me. I wonder if on some level he feels with you in a similar way you feel with him.

Take care and I am glad you checked in.

 

[Feeling Sad]

I am the oposite, Copa. I have always prayed, and now I have stopped, for the most part. I have dealt with schizophrenia my whole life. I know its course. I still believe in G_d, but I have lost my hope. I am mad. I am in deep despair.

My middle son still has not gone for either medications or counseling. He does not know what he wants to do with his life and he says that he has missed out on "opportunities". I know before, jobs were being lined up because of the research he was performing. Now, he is so depressed, they are slipping by. He texts me, "Hi". When I text, "Hi" back, there is no response. I asked him how he was doing. Nothing. Last week he said that he was anxious and was afraid of people. I have never been so low. I don't want him to get worse, but I am helpless.

I wrote papers today. I will weed tomorrow. I still plan to apply for the seminars. They are all over the U.S. I don't want to go, but I am forcing myself. I don't know why. I haven't flown since my brain surgery. I don't know if I want to. I receive a stipend to cover the flight and food and lodging is included. I can go on a trip, but I will be taking my sadness with me. It will distract me. That is the purpose that it will serve. My heart is breaking.

 

[Copabanana]

They are all over the U.S. I don't want to go, but I am forcing myself. I don't know why.

My heart is breaking.

Feeling. Are you worried that middle son is developing Schizophrenia? Have you as if stopped living because you are scared to death, and on some level you believe that by shutting down your own life you can save him by taking the hit yourself?

I do not know how you are going to do this if you do not reach out for more support NOW. You are not alone.

Today I was glued to the live feed of the Democratic National Committee vote. My candidate did not win. but he gave a beautiful speech when he accepted the nomination. He spoke something like this to the voting body: There are people all over this nation who need you. Who are frightened. Who are in hiding. In the margins. Feeling helpless.

I was so touched. The last time when I felt this way in a political moment was when at the convention Bernie Sander's brother paid tribute to their long-dead parents and he cried and so did Bernie.

I am not going to guilt you because how could I? I spent 3 years in bed! I figured out that was 5 percent of my life.

But the thing is, Feeling: the worst thing in the world may be happening to you but there are people who need you. You have gifts that cannot be lost. I know in your work you are tremendously valued. But you will retire soon. You have a life ahead of you of giving.

Now. This is a bit of a guilt trip: this is not the time for us to be sacrificed at the alter of the personal.

I know that there is nothing I can write, just as there is nothing you can do for either son, that will change the course of things if they are meant to be. Just know that I value you. Not more or less than this.

If you have a chance look at Keith Ellison's speech today. You will be touched, too.

Take care.

I want you to please tomorrow go out and be among people. Is there a beach nearby? I think there is. A beach with a promenade? Get a good book. Forget the courses. Sit in a café. Read. Tell me what you like to read and I will look for some good books. I have nearly 3000 books on my kindle, most free.

If I lived closer we could go to a café by the beach together. I will be there with you. For now, you go. (Or if you have a better plan, do that.) We can work on the next steps. Chinese Crested, Feeling.

 

[BusynMember]

I agree you must go on and try to find joy, but I am wondering if your younger son, seeing the fate of his brother, is willing to get psychiatric help and be closely monitored so that he is under treatment and never gets to his brothers point...if in fact he ever does develop schizophrenia? I mean...i am sure you thought of it and i figure he rejected help...but just thought id throw it out there...i am very sad for you. But it wont help your sons if you figuratively die. But frankly in your circumstances it would take much therapy for me to carry on. So try to stay strong and do seek help. NAMI has support groups too (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill).

Hugs.

 

[pigless in VA]

I have been told by several therapists that I can never see him again because he could have killed me without realizing what he was doing. Yes, he loves me, but when someone has delusions and associated command hallucinations, all bets are off, sadly. Yes, he might fight his voices, but again, he might not win.

Dear Feeling Sad, please understand that what I am about to say is meant kindly. You are so terribly low that I fear my words may hurt you further and that is not my intent.

I do understand how you feel. I watched my husband go literally crazy. I was closer to him than anyone else on earth. I loved him more than myself. I think he somehow knew that I could survive his craziness and that is why he agreed to have children with me.

What I also learned from him was that love cannot fix crazy. Somehow the mental illness takes control of the person, and they change into a second being. That distrustful, delusional, paranoid, violent, destructive being. You could see it in his eyes, couldn't you? The distant, glittering, frantic look of a man out of control.

You did what you could to help you oldest son. You did your best. Now you must let him go. Hope for the best for him. Once we (you with your son, me with my husband) reached that point where we became the enemy, there was no turning back. For me, it was almost like a switch was flipped with my husband.

We had an incident where we were calmly watching a movie. In the movie, the male lead was being publicly humiliated by his wife. My husband lept up and yelled at me for humiliating him. It was as though he suddenly felt connected to the movie events and neatly slid me into the roll of angry, spiteful woman. I would never do such a thing. But I watched the mental illness derail my husband's thoughts in order to convince him that I was evil. That was the night that he took the kids from me and locked himself in the bedroom with them. He yelled at me through the door telling me that I was evil, and he needed to protect the kids from me. I somehow convinced him to open the door, but I recognized that night that my loving husband was gone. In his stead was an unknown, volatile creature. A terrifyingly dangerous creature.

Please accept that you cannot help your eldest any longer. For him, you have become the enemy. You represent everything he fears. You have done nothing to deserve this status. The mental illness has taken control of him and driven a wedge between you. It is okay to accept that you have no power over it. Please keep yourself safe.

It sounds as though your middle son desperately needs your help. Can you lead him to it? All of you have been traumatized by your eldest's mental illness. I agree that NAMI is a good place to start. I hope for healing for you. I hope that you will become "Healing the Sad" instead of "Feeling Sad." Sending strength and warm hugs your way ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

[wisernow]

Feeling sad....I agree with everything the others have said. I do remember a very dark period in my life with my son where I was so wrapped up in what was happening that I couldn't breathe. My every thought and action was consumed . A very dear friend tapped me on the shoulder and said "you have a daughter too you know". I realized then that I needed to be strong for her. Thank goodness she had wonderful friends who she could rely on because for a time I as her mother had nothing left to give her. I needed to help me as I had become so sick. Once I became stronger I could help her. Please be kind to yourself, get the help you need now. Sending many hugs and positive thoughts your way today from Canada!

 

[BusynMember]

Pigless...that was a haunting, beautiful, realistic post regarding schizophrenia, the cancer of mental illness. It makes bipolar look like the sniffles
.
Although i am fortunate enough not to have had a loved one with this mind robbing illness, years ago i spent ten weeks in the psychiatric ward of a major university hospital for suicidal depression. Tbe nurses liked me...i was young and pregnant and pretty smart...and they would sit with me explaining the various mental illnesses, even telling me which illness various patients had. This was way before HIPPA. They also gave me textbooks and I studied with interest.

It did not pass me by that the patients who were the sickest and most out of touch with reality were schizophrenics. Some were so smart. One lady spoke seven languages and had a Masters Degree. One moment she'd impress us by speaking Italian. The next she'd be stripping in the hallway screaming that "the man over there" (there was no man) was holding a gun snd made her take off her clothes. I thought how sad and horrible it was to live that way.

Some schizophrenics improved with medications during my ten week stay. Some never got better. There are more medications now. A common reason for being admitted was that the patient started believing the medications were poisen so they stopped taking them.

At any rate, yes, it steals the once loving person's mind. Some can come back with help. Some never are well enough to accept help. Some get help but still get sick and end up hospitalized once a year.

I have a healthy respect for what schizophrenia has the potential to do. The hospital's security guards were called several times while i was there and after ten weeks it saddened me more than scared me to see patient fights.

I have so much compassion for anyone who faces or faced this monster...

Love to victims of this terrible disease.

 

[Feeling Sad]

Hi. I wanted to touch base. I feel like I am reaching my limit, but keep on doing what I need to get done. I have no time to fall apart.

My ill son is still going in a big circle, from town to town, about 30 minutes to 45 minutes away. He does circles around this town. I know that he is still alive from his banking history and that he is still living in his old car.

I put $100 in his account on his birthday. I do not know if he will notice. It was painful for me to do, yet it made me feel connected on some level.

My son up north is still texting that he cannot handle life anymore. He says that he has let job opportunities pass him by. He is tired and sad. Last week, he finally got a prescription of antibiotics.

I have just finished writing progress reports and have conferences this week. I just finished the last of my classes with all A's. I am now at top pay.

I was accepted to a very competitive seminar back east this summer with paid travel, room, and food.

I am so very tired. My house is a mess with an abundance of delayed maintenance. I don't care. I feel very sad most of the time. My heart feels like it is breaking.

It is just one foot in front of the other.

I hate being alone. I repeatedly play over everything in my head. I am profoundly lonely.

 

[Copabanana]

Hi Feeling

Last week I was going to post to you, as I had not heard from you in quite a while. I got so distracted by my own misery, I forgot. I am glad you posted, but sorry things continue so hard.

prescription of antibiotics.

Did you mean here antibiotics or antidepressants?

It sounds like middle son is struggling like we are.

I was accepted to a very competitive seminar back east this summer with paid travel, room, and food

I am proud of you and I hope this can be a respite for you.

You know that my son has been either living with us or near us for the better part of the year. In very important ways he has improved: less hostile; more openly loving; more cooperative; doing a couple of things that are constructive, at least giving the appearance of such.

He paid lip service to beginning again the antivirals he is supposed to be taking for his liver--but I believe he says this to influence me, not because he has any commitment to or real understanding of his health and the risks.

The point I want to make is this: I came to feel that the only thing to do was to kick him out. Again. He was not following through on things that to us were essential. Still smoking marijuana and refusing to take drug tests. Still frittering away his days aimlessly. Not providing any proof that he was doing anything constructive, that he had promised. That was Sunday morning that I told him to leave the other property. As usual I became unhinged.

It always takes me so long to get to the point, and here it is finally: My son left with M who took him back to the other house to get his stuff. I was devastated. I would not/could not get out of bed. I was sick with grief. Any sense of hope for the future or faith in myself, I lost.

This is what happened to me after 1 day. I became a shell of myself. Just skin, bones, fat and gray hair. No spirit. No force. Nothing.

I could not cook, even. I told M: I am just making beans.

When M came home I asked if my son had called him. It turns out M did not have the heart to follow through and throw my son out. I was relieved, but at the same time, felt desperate. M. How are we going to get J to understand if we do not follow through? M feels between a rock and a hard place.

You see. You do not need me to tell you how hard this is. One day. And I wanted to die. Honestly. When we get to this point, I begin googling, "I want to die." Because this is what keeps repeating and repeating itself in my head.

I do not know what the answer is. Honestly. I do not. There are mothers here on this forum that are able to go live their lives. They say they find joy and serenity. Detaching. I am incapable of doing so, I guess. When I did kick my son out for 4 years, I froze myself. Either I have changed or my freezer broke.

With respect to you and your son, you said it, putting one foot in front of the other, and marching on. You have your work. I wish I had mine. When these things happen, I feel absolutely incapable of working. And yet I know it would help.

As far as your older son, one could say that you do not know how this will turn out. He is very smart and in his way very, very capable. I know he is very ill. But we do not know what will be. I do not know if this is a consolation or a great fear, or both.

Anyway. I am glad you checked in. Know that I think about you and care about you. Take care, Feeling.

 

[Feeling Sad]

Yes, blessedly, antidepressants. But, will he continue to take them and for how long? He already speaks of maybe being homeless again because he doesn't feel that he is good enough to get a job. He has had many missed opportunities and doesn't know if he will graduate.

I keep playing the What If Game. What if he had stayed on the antidepressants? What if I hadn't told him about the restraining order? He would not stay here after the falling out between his brother and himself. He did not want to upset him further and cause more violence. He would have never found out.

Copa, you could get a job in a lot of things with your education and background. You could also volunteer. It helps me to be busy enough so that I do not perseverate and regret constantly. But, more than that, it helps me to feel better because I am helping others, even though I am helpless to help or effect a change in my two eldest sons.

I just had to catch and escort a large alligator lizard out of my shower. I still have not sealed up openings in my wall from a repipe a few years back. A fine example of delayed maintenance... I grew up with lizards, living in the hills of Sherman Oaks. I found this fellow more of an annoyance. I am mad. I am mad at life. After what I have faced with a brain tumor and death threats, I handled it with ease. The alarm was set off because my hands were full, but the police were not contacted because I armed it again after tossing the invader quickly into the bushes.

What I am trying to say is that we're are much, much stronger than the norm. We have been tested. We can handle anything. We feel weak, but in reality, we are much more resilient and brave than the average woman.


I feel that our problem lies with being able to enjoy ourselves and to detach. I truly don't feel like I can detach. I know that they mean to detach from the turmoil and chaos.

But, I feel that if there is a glint, a small sliver of lack of insight, that as human beings and caring mothers, we cannot detach completely. I will be attached until my death, and if there is life after death, then even then.

I am trying to divorce myself from blame or guilt, but not from the concern or caring. Thus, I am left aching because I am devoid of any input about how he is doing.

Copa, do what pleases you. What do you want to do? Dance...create...paint...explore and discover? Do volunteer work. Do art or dance classes or therapy for others. Perhaps travel. What do you want to do? If I was not working...I would have fallen apart long ago.

My whole class finished a long animal unit by building animal habitat dioramas in class a week ago. They worked very hard.

Last Friday, a constantly difficult and angry boy in class, while the class was playing math games on the rug, destroyed them by taking the cute tigers, polar bears, and, yes, the Taxmanian Devils, etc. made out of modeling clay and rolled them up into a big ball and hid it in his desk. It was not discovered until the end of the day, when I was taking a picture of my class holding their beloved dioramas.

One girl said, "Where is my tiger? Where are its babies?"

Another girl said, "Where is my cobra and all of the trees?"

They were heart-broken.

How do you engender repentance when a person is devoid of it?

I am faced by constant quandaries...such is the way of life. It forces you out of your problems that you are facing.

I am sorry that you are going through so much. I think if you often, as well. Again, we feel weak, but the exact inverse is true.

We have been forged by fire.

 

[Copabanana]

They were heart-broken.

How do you engender repentance when a person is devoid of it?

My whole life I have dealt with people (and tried to avoid them) like this. My sister lacks empathy and she is vindictive. As a child and adult she has been cruel like this. To recall the things she has done even in the last 5 years, I could not bear to recount. I think this is where the concept of evil applies. We are all capable of it. We choose not to

And then there are people like your sons whose DNA is to take responsibility, to do right, to take the hits, even when they are not theirs to take. Middle son takes on responsibility for everything. I guess you and I do that too.

I do not know where this comes from, this sense of martyrdom, that sacrifices the self, except sometimes I think we unconsciously decide to take the hit, so that we spare the other person. Your middle son must feel on some level that he is responsible, because he stuck up for himself, for you with his elder brother. He seems to do whatever he can to renounce himself, as penance.

he doesn't feel that he is good enough to get a job.

For this, I mean. All middle son did was to set a boundary, it seems.

He would not stay here after the falling out between his brother and himself. He did not want to upset him further and cause more violence. He would have never found out.

This is ridiculous, Feeling. You could never have done this, and he very much would have found it out. You cannot live based on lies, even more than you were able to live as you were.

We have been tested. We can handle anything. We feel weak, but in reality, we are much more resilient

After a couple of years with my stomach pain gone I am in unbearable and constant pain. Gastritis they call it. And I get heartburn. It feels like I have pure acid boiling in my digestive symptom. It appeared just like that. And I am back in bed. Completely.

Did I tell you last night that M let my son stay until the end of the week? I did not know. There was a momentary sense of relief, but only momentary. I have so much rage at my son. I am enraged particularly that he lies to me about the antiviral. That he tried to manipulate me with the fantasy that he decided to take it. (Meanwhile all along the doctor it seems had been urging it--to corroborate something else, he showed me the write up of his visit.) All along he had been lying to me. Telling me the hepatologist was waiting to see the trend. All lies.

When somebody betrays themselves and you, about something that is life and death, but also reveals their awareness of how much you suffer--that is my son. My son told M: I decided to take the antiviral because it will make my mother feel better.

Nothing but a power play. Pure theater. He knew all along that he needed that antiviral. He knew that who he was killing along with himself, was me.

If my son was not so foolish, I would say he was evil. Maybe this is what my gut is reacting to. This contradiction. I seem to love somebody with all my heart that is indifferent to me, indeed, inflicts on to me unending cruelty. It seems to be the story of my life.

 

[Feeling Sad]

Copa, see a doctor for your gastitis. It is clearly stress. Try yoga or slow breathing exercises. Avoid certain foods, but don't let it consume you. Your worry and conflict is directly negatively impacting your health...and your life. I know. Easier said than done. But, research the best foods to eat. Go on a diet with just these foods. Eat smaller amounts and not after 5:00.

I have started to learn to turn off my worry. I mentioned something before that I had heard. I just tell myself, "Not helpful" and I switch the broken record in my head. Try it. It really works.

Do something for YOU. Listen to music or dance. Create. Garden. Walk. Be well..

Off to try to sleep. I have to sound coherent for my parent conferences and IEP tomorrow...

Please, take care of yourself, Copa.

 

[Copabanana]

Feeling. You sound strong. I was reading exactly about the technique you are using when mentally you go down a road that leads to pain, and intervene to stop those thoughts. I think I use it too. I think what you write in your post is the key. Not just the creativity and the joyfulness, but the need to be effective and to contribute like you do in your work.

I think with these 2 things: creative outlets and contribution, I would fill my life. I was thinking about how when you get old it is really hard NOT to slip into despair with all of the water the bridge--without purpose, and generativity. Giving to others based upon who you have become, and not falling into the pit of regret. It is really a knife's edge.

Especially for us. Because our children keep us right on the edge of despair and intense worry.

There are so many things I love to do. The only things I am doing are reading (I love to read and it helps a lot) and listening to the news (compulsively). Oh. I was trying to walk every day for 50 minutes, but during this last upset with my son, I quit even that.

I like so much other stuff: Like needlework. I love TV and movies. Creating art. Gardening. I love to play bridge. I adore dancing. None of this I do. I tell myself I cannot do it because I have to come to grips with all of the STUFF in my house and garage (as I continue to buy more. It is a vicious circle. Because I buy stuff to deal with the pain This is the connection I have to cut, to begin to find respite in things that are good for me.

I will keep front and center the wisdom of this post, your post, Feeling.

I just love it when you post, Feeling. You are doing so well. You are a triumph. I am so proud of you.

 

[Copabanana]

I am mad. I am mad at life.

So much better this, raging at life, than defeat. I will strive for this too. Remember that movie, was it called Broadcast News?

"I am mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore?"

 

[Copabanana]

Thank goodness she had wonderful friends who she could rely on because for a time I as her mother had nothing left to give her. I needed to help me as I had become so sick.

I as her mother had nothing left to give her.

I read this post nearly a month ago and acknowledged its import and wisdom. However right now I am feeling this at an even deeper level. Today, I feel desperately struck, desperately sorry for myself, unable to motivate myself to do all that needs to be done, that which has been neglected for so long.

I as her mother had nothing left to give her.

I am that girl. I am motherless now. Maybe on some level I was always. I as her mother...am neglecting myself...feeling I have nothing left to give her.

On the most basic level what we come to here is the awareness that we have abandoned ourselves to a large extent. We have given everything and more to our children, and are left with nothing. Not ourselves. Mostly that. We have left ourselves to starve.

This has to have been a choice. No matter how powerless to stop it we come to feel--there must be choice in this.

I think your whole thread Feeling, is about this. This is your story that you are changing, one day at a time.

I as her mother had nothing left to give her.

This is the spot that keeps tripping me up. That I feel helpless to do anything. That I feel helpless to reverse a horror that confronts me. And as long as I stay there, I deplete myself more. Each time I return to this place I attack myself, as failed, as hopelessly damaged and done.

But this is the spot where there is the possibility of renewal.

This quote reminds me there is choice here. Do we attack the car for running out of gas? Do we demean the baby whose bottle needs milk? Do we rail against the thermostat because it registers too cold or too hot?

I am out of gas. I need nourishment. My thermostat is telling me the temperature is too cold. These are not failures, this is information.

Where in life did I get the idea that to NEED something is a moral failure? I require attention. My own.

I have not before seen with such clarity, wisernow, how I have been failing myself, and how specifically I can do better if I choose.

Thank you.

 

[pigless in VA]

My ill son is still going in a big circle, from town to town, about 30 minutes to 45 minutes away. He does circles around this town. I know that he is still alive from his banking history and that he is still living in his old car.

Feeling Sad, it occurs to me that you are mirroring your son's behavior with your own emotions. Going around in circles of sadness. Don't allow his mental illness to destroy you, too. You deserve better.

 

[Feeling Sad]

While I am at work, I dont have as much time to dwell on things. My students make me laugh all of the time and, yes, it is very rewarding and challenging.

But when I am alone, I find it difficult to feel happy. I try to think back to a time in my childhood...before my sister became schizophrenic and started to threaten to kill me.

My best memory is walking across the school playground in Bel Air wearing a sparkly princess costume for the Halloween Carnival. I was truly happy. I had no fears. I liked my life.

I try to think of those times to get to a happy perspective. I was carefree then. Free of care...

My best friend lost her son at age 10 after battling Leukemia for 4 years. I feel badly when I moan and groan too much to her. My life is easier. My son lived 23 years before he became schizophrenic. My son is alive.

But, I quickly counter my internal argument with the fact that I probably will never see my son ever again and he is living in a tortured reality.

I feel responsible for my son. Yes, my lousy genetics. But, mostly by the fact that I am his mother. He did not ask to be mentally ill. He does not realize that he is ill. He did not deserve it.

But, my friend's little boy didn't deserve Leukemia.

I am mad at life.

I am driving up the coast tomorrow. Copa, I buy too many things as well. Probably for that brief jolt of serotonin or adrenaline and a distraction from my grief.

Do I own my belongings, or do they 'own' me? I am annoyed at the clutter. I am trying to focus on nature and gardening.

I have a rule that I cannot buy anything less than 100 years old for decor. It doesn't slow me down one bit....

 

[wisernow]

Copa and Feeling Sad...thinking of you both and can read the heart break in your posts. Perhaps think of yourselves as mothers to young girls . Would you do your best to protect them, bathe them, nourish them, hold them, love them? Of course you would. I think your souls are calling out to you both, begging please take care of me, please love me again, please wrap your heart and spirits around me and hold me close. You see , the diversion of what has happened with our sons, causes us to lose that very basic sense of ourselves...it eats us up, again and again because WE allow it. We allow ourselves to be demonized, cast aside, and as we become weaker we allow ourselves to be devoured by their demons! Take back your strength, your soul. Fight for it as hard as you have been fighting for your sons! Perhaps you will see that as you become stronger...so will they! When you fight for yourself...you are also fighting for them. This is a battle for your life and theirs. But you must reclaim your life first. Because they are part of us and always will be....they become weak when we do...and they gain strength when we can model the way. Hugs and love to you both on this very rainy Canadian spring day!!!!

 

[pigless in VA]

wisernow, thanks for putting that into words. I couldn't seem to find the right ones.