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Feeling Sad---Son is Homeless
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<blockquote data-quote="Childofmine" data-source="post: 693466" data-attributes="member: 17542"><p>FS I am reading along with you. Please know that you're not alone and we are bearing witness and walking with you. So many of the things you write ring true and make me remember things from the past. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I so understand this small thing that is a big thing. During the really bad times once we found Difficult Child's abandoned car. It had been left at the side of a road about 15 miles from here. We had it towed to my neighborhood and put it in an area where people store their boats. The precious little car that we had shopped and shopped for, a nice used Camry, an affordable car, gray and in shining pristine condition: it was trashed. Dents, a flat tire, cigarette burns, tires rubbed, clothes, papers, fast food papers...junk, a terrible smell...trashed. He was in jail again of course. I don't know what happened, and still don't, with the car there, abandoned. I remember my ex-husband telling me he thought he had seen it. My SO (now husband) and I had driven there to check. It was his car. I stood there with tears rolling down my face. It stayed stored in my neighborhood for a long time, I don't remember how long. We walked down to check on it a few times. Someone had thrown rocks at the windows once so we put plastic and duct tape on them. I thought it was two older neighborhood boys who used to be good friends of my son's, but he stole from them and their family, so I'm sure they couldn't stand him anymore. I had no proof of that, but I was convinced they had done it. And the hurt was even deeper. I stood there and cried and cried at the car that I saw as a metaphor for my son's ruined life. I didn't go back to see that car. It was just too hard. </p><p></p><p>I so understand the aluminum foil. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>This is just so hard. Having a deep and wide family history of mental illness leaves you with so much to bear. The pain and grief of loving people whose lives are such a struggle. I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a definitive pathway to help people, and that denial wasn't part of mental illness, and that we had resources in this country to really help, and somehow we had supports for people who struggle like this. I wish I knew. It hurts to think about this with you. I am so sorry. Please know that we can understand this kind of profound pain and living with this. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I think this is just fine and okay. Please...please...please...be very gentle and kind with yourself. Shower yourself with grace and mercy and permit yourself the coping mechanisms you need right now. If the shopping one is dissipating, okay, but maybe there are others. I think coping for a while is a temporary thing that does dissipate with time, as things change, and as you change. We need things like this to help us cope.</p><p></p><p>For a long time, when my marriage was imploding due to my ex-husband's alcoholism, well before my precious son went off the rails (as far as I knew! who knows what was really going on, even then?), I would work hard, or as hard as I could, having my own business that I operate out of my home. Then often, I would drive 10 to 15 miles away to small towns with antique and thrift stores, and I began to collect things like old mixing bowls, old glass and pottery, things like that. One time I started collecting deviled egg plates, and I amassed a huge collection. One time I found a metal cake-taker. The hunt and the process and the wandering and the mindless whatever and the short drive and the solitude and the quiet...all of it helped me cope. I did this for a few years. Then, as things changed, I realized I had all of this stuff...goodness!...and the stuff no longer meant anything to me. Slowly I got rid of it all. Slowly...I was ready to stop. Now, I'm kind of into less stuff. I've been purging now for about 5 years...I don't know what it meant---I'm sure there is some psychological theory...but I know the process helped me cope. </p><p></p><p></p><p>You say you are depressed and anxious. Of course you are. This is so much, your two sons, and your brother. Please allow yourself time, space, grace, mercy and as you can and want to, get more help. Reach out. Here, therapy, support groups, writing in a journal...just some thoughts about what really helped me. Time does help. I don't know why but it is a truism. Help helps. There is joy and peace and contentment to be treasured and had in this world, even in the midst of so much that is impossible to understand. </p><p></p><p>Please know you are in my heart today and in my prayers. We're here with you.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Childofmine, post: 693466, member: 17542"] FS I am reading along with you. Please know that you're not alone and we are bearing witness and walking with you. So many of the things you write ring true and make me remember things from the past. I so understand this small thing that is a big thing. During the really bad times once we found Difficult Child's abandoned car. It had been left at the side of a road about 15 miles from here. We had it towed to my neighborhood and put it in an area where people store their boats. The precious little car that we had shopped and shopped for, a nice used Camry, an affordable car, gray and in shining pristine condition: it was trashed. Dents, a flat tire, cigarette burns, tires rubbed, clothes, papers, fast food papers...junk, a terrible smell...trashed. He was in jail again of course. I don't know what happened, and still don't, with the car there, abandoned. I remember my ex-husband telling me he thought he had seen it. My SO (now husband) and I had driven there to check. It was his car. I stood there with tears rolling down my face. It stayed stored in my neighborhood for a long time, I don't remember how long. We walked down to check on it a few times. Someone had thrown rocks at the windows once so we put plastic and duct tape on them. I thought it was two older neighborhood boys who used to be good friends of my son's, but he stole from them and their family, so I'm sure they couldn't stand him anymore. I had no proof of that, but I was convinced they had done it. And the hurt was even deeper. I stood there and cried and cried at the car that I saw as a metaphor for my son's ruined life. I didn't go back to see that car. It was just too hard. I so understand the aluminum foil. This is just so hard. Having a deep and wide family history of mental illness leaves you with so much to bear. The pain and grief of loving people whose lives are such a struggle. I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a definitive pathway to help people, and that denial wasn't part of mental illness, and that we had resources in this country to really help, and somehow we had supports for people who struggle like this. I wish I knew. It hurts to think about this with you. I am so sorry. Please know that we can understand this kind of profound pain and living with this. I think this is just fine and okay. Please...please...please...be very gentle and kind with yourself. Shower yourself with grace and mercy and permit yourself the coping mechanisms you need right now. If the shopping one is dissipating, okay, but maybe there are others. I think coping for a while is a temporary thing that does dissipate with time, as things change, and as you change. We need things like this to help us cope. For a long time, when my marriage was imploding due to my ex-husband's alcoholism, well before my precious son went off the rails (as far as I knew! who knows what was really going on, even then?), I would work hard, or as hard as I could, having my own business that I operate out of my home. Then often, I would drive 10 to 15 miles away to small towns with antique and thrift stores, and I began to collect things like old mixing bowls, old glass and pottery, things like that. One time I started collecting deviled egg plates, and I amassed a huge collection. One time I found a metal cake-taker. The hunt and the process and the wandering and the mindless whatever and the short drive and the solitude and the quiet...all of it helped me cope. I did this for a few years. Then, as things changed, I realized I had all of this stuff...goodness!...and the stuff no longer meant anything to me. Slowly I got rid of it all. Slowly...I was ready to stop. Now, I'm kind of into less stuff. I've been purging now for about 5 years...I don't know what it meant---I'm sure there is some psychological theory...but I know the process helped me cope. You say you are depressed and anxious. Of course you are. This is so much, your two sons, and your brother. Please allow yourself time, space, grace, mercy and as you can and want to, get more help. Reach out. Here, therapy, support groups, writing in a journal...just some thoughts about what really helped me. Time does help. I don't know why but it is a truism. Help helps. There is joy and peace and contentment to be treasured and had in this world, even in the midst of so much that is impossible to understand. Please know you are in my heart today and in my prayers. We're here with you. [/QUOTE]
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