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Feeling Sad---Son is Homeless
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<blockquote data-quote="Feeling Sad" data-source="post: 716279" data-attributes="member: 19245"><p>It has been a very long time. I went to 2 teacher seminars back east and traveled down the coast for 9 days between the seminars.</p><p></p><p>I greatly enjoyed the seminars. At each of the seminars, you stay in a dorm and have all of your meals provided. They both lasted 6 days. There were tours and I met teachers from all over the U.S. The first seminar had several guest speakers each day. We had about 7 hours of instruction and discussion each day. I loved it. I could immerse myself in intellectual growth and the community of teachers. The second seminar gave me a stipend to cover my flight and I needed to develop a detailed lesson plan utilizing certain criteria.</p><p></p><p>The horrible part of my trip is that I urged my middle son to fly back and meet me for the 9 days of traveling down the coast to Charleston and Savannah. He is not doing well and I thought, foolishly, that this trip would 'help'. He was verbally and psychologically abusive during the whole time. Yes, I know cognitively that he is hurting. But, it was hard on my already low self-esteem. Yes, I know that he was wrong to yell at me. He was very anxious and irritable. He did not want to be with people. I ended up bringing his free included breakfast up to the room for him at each hotel. He has lost weight from his depression. I was walking on eggshells the entire time.</p><p></p><p>I do not know if it was the stress, new flatter shoes, or walking miles a day, but my legs started to get sore. I felt extreme pain, but rushed quickly to get back to the hotel before checkout. He would sleep in the room. He would wait outside if I toured a house. </p><p></p><p>It was horrible. I felt so badly I even questioned myself if I was 'up' to going to my second seminar. To be accepted, it was very competitive. You had to submit an essay and only 25 out of 188 were accepted. I couldn't let them down, but I now felt stupid and not up to the task. He constantly tore me down.</p><p></p><p>After he left, I returned the rental car and took 4 trains to arrive at my second seminar at an ivy league college. My ankles swelled up and I got a red rash above my ankles. I labored every day to go from the dorm to the mess hall and then to the lecture hall, repeating this process 3 times, with tours thrown in. I have never had this happen. My legs killed me. I met friends who got me ice packs and insisted that I elevated my feet in the lecture hall. I knew how my mother felt when she had great difficulty walking. She was bed bound for the last 7 years of her life. </p><p></p><p>The world of academia was opening my prospects and outlook. My walking constraints and extreme pain made me feel old and failing. Quite the dichotomy.</p><p></p><p>When my middle son returned home, he had his antidepressants doubled. He is not abusive now. </p><p></p><p>My fear over the last few months is that he will become schizophrenic, too. My eldest son and 2 sisters have schizophrenia. I am always waiting for the other shoe to fall. I look at every behavior through this lens. I have never stated it. Perhaps, he is worried, as well. He hasn't mentioned hearing voices, which is an excellent sign. He is still very depressed and speaks of not wanting to live. He refuses any type of counseling. He wants me to just speak to communicate something important. I talk a lot and love to talk. He wants silence. He doesn't want to go out front during the day. He stays in his room most of the day. His friends, except one, have wives and children. He doesn't see them. I know that he hates living here with me. He is an adult. I gifted him with an early inheritance in high school and he has a large inheritance from my parents. He has no desire to do anything. Yes, it is too soon to complete his last semester at college, even on line. He is too depressed to think clearly. He could not even do well at a simple job, not in his field. I have told him to do volunteer work such as teaching adults how to read at the library and maybe take a class in photography for fun. He needs structure and a reason to get up in the morning. He just wants to be alone in his room. He only weighs 110 now and I try to get him to eat. I have found it best not to push, but have food available when he is hungry. I do not want to be too strict because I don't want him to be homeless again in his state of mind. He keeps saying that he "doesn't feel well", but can't explain what he means.</p><p></p><p>I feel like I am just working on automatic pilot. I have never let myself fall apart. I am probably not able to fall apart. I still am not able to cry. I am a zombie. I have to get my room ready next week for school. My heart is breaking for my ill son, who I will probably never see again, and my middle son in the ravages of mental illness. He was already depressed, at times, but was doing very well at college and performing research. But when I had to file a restraining order against his schizophrenic brother, he went off the deep end. Again, I am helpless.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Feeling Sad, post: 716279, member: 19245"] It has been a very long time. I went to 2 teacher seminars back east and traveled down the coast for 9 days between the seminars. I greatly enjoyed the seminars. At each of the seminars, you stay in a dorm and have all of your meals provided. They both lasted 6 days. There were tours and I met teachers from all over the U.S. The first seminar had several guest speakers each day. We had about 7 hours of instruction and discussion each day. I loved it. I could immerse myself in intellectual growth and the community of teachers. The second seminar gave me a stipend to cover my flight and I needed to develop a detailed lesson plan utilizing certain criteria. The horrible part of my trip is that I urged my middle son to fly back and meet me for the 9 days of traveling down the coast to Charleston and Savannah. He is not doing well and I thought, foolishly, that this trip would 'help'. He was verbally and psychologically abusive during the whole time. Yes, I know cognitively that he is hurting. But, it was hard on my already low self-esteem. Yes, I know that he was wrong to yell at me. He was very anxious and irritable. He did not want to be with people. I ended up bringing his free included breakfast up to the room for him at each hotel. He has lost weight from his depression. I was walking on eggshells the entire time. I do not know if it was the stress, new flatter shoes, or walking miles a day, but my legs started to get sore. I felt extreme pain, but rushed quickly to get back to the hotel before checkout. He would sleep in the room. He would wait outside if I toured a house. It was horrible. I felt so badly I even questioned myself if I was 'up' to going to my second seminar. To be accepted, it was very competitive. You had to submit an essay and only 25 out of 188 were accepted. I couldn't let them down, but I now felt stupid and not up to the task. He constantly tore me down. After he left, I returned the rental car and took 4 trains to arrive at my second seminar at an ivy league college. My ankles swelled up and I got a red rash above my ankles. I labored every day to go from the dorm to the mess hall and then to the lecture hall, repeating this process 3 times, with tours thrown in. I have never had this happen. My legs killed me. I met friends who got me ice packs and insisted that I elevated my feet in the lecture hall. I knew how my mother felt when she had great difficulty walking. She was bed bound for the last 7 years of her life. The world of academia was opening my prospects and outlook. My walking constraints and extreme pain made me feel old and failing. Quite the dichotomy. When my middle son returned home, he had his antidepressants doubled. He is not abusive now. My fear over the last few months is that he will become schizophrenic, too. My eldest son and 2 sisters have schizophrenia. I am always waiting for the other shoe to fall. I look at every behavior through this lens. I have never stated it. Perhaps, he is worried, as well. He hasn't mentioned hearing voices, which is an excellent sign. He is still very depressed and speaks of not wanting to live. He refuses any type of counseling. He wants me to just speak to communicate something important. I talk a lot and love to talk. He wants silence. He doesn't want to go out front during the day. He stays in his room most of the day. His friends, except one, have wives and children. He doesn't see them. I know that he hates living here with me. He is an adult. I gifted him with an early inheritance in high school and he has a large inheritance from my parents. He has no desire to do anything. Yes, it is too soon to complete his last semester at college, even on line. He is too depressed to think clearly. He could not even do well at a simple job, not in his field. I have told him to do volunteer work such as teaching adults how to read at the library and maybe take a class in photography for fun. He needs structure and a reason to get up in the morning. He just wants to be alone in his room. He only weighs 110 now and I try to get him to eat. I have found it best not to push, but have food available when he is hungry. I do not want to be too strict because I don't want him to be homeless again in his state of mind. He keeps saying that he "doesn't feel well", but can't explain what he means. I feel like I am just working on automatic pilot. I have never let myself fall apart. I am probably not able to fall apart. I still am not able to cry. I am a zombie. I have to get my room ready next week for school. My heart is breaking for my ill son, who I will probably never see again, and my middle son in the ravages of mental illness. He was already depressed, at times, but was doing very well at college and performing research. But when I had to file a restraining order against his schizophrenic brother, he went off the deep end. Again, I am helpless. [/QUOTE]
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