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<blockquote data-quote="PonyGirl65" data-source="post: 689067" data-attributes="member: 20087"><p>So so so many times, I wished I could "turn my head" and "not see" what was happening right in front of me. Or even slightly behind me. Or in the dang basement.</p><p></p><p>I wished I could close my eyes and not have to deal with the mess. I wished things were different, and just poof! by magic.</p><p></p><p>But I could not. I couldn't ignore the bloodshot eyes nor the stench of old beer. I couldn't convince myself that I actually had smoked the cigarettes myself that were missing from my pack even though I kept close count. I could not ignore the erratic behavior or the slipping grades or the missing money or the cock-eyed stories or the struggle to wake him up in the mornings.</p><p></p><p>I couldn't unsee the things I had seen. And I really really REALLY wished I could.</p><p></p><p>And there was no help. Not from school or law enforcement or social services or church or friends or family. No help no help no help. And no one understood.</p><p></p><p>Until I came here.</p><p></p><p>And you all gave me respite from my broken heart. And gave me back my spirit and the will to go on. And helped me find the next right thing to do.</p><p></p><p>My story did not turn out as I would have hoped - well, check that - my son's story did not turn out as I hoped. But as Leafy is always gently reminding us, the end of the story is not yet written.</p><p></p><p>I am proud and grateful that I was a Warrior Mom. I did what I needed to do in order to "save" my PC24 son, and myself, from GFG31 son's destructive road down drug addiction. If I had to go back and do it all again (GASP!) there's d@mn few things I would change. I did the best I could, with what I had, at the time.</p><p></p><p>And, when I knew more, I did better.</p><p></p><p>Thanks to all of you, Board Aunties past and present, who helped me know more.</p><p></p><p>Peace</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="PonyGirl65, post: 689067, member: 20087"] So so so many times, I wished I could "turn my head" and "not see" what was happening right in front of me. Or even slightly behind me. Or in the dang basement. I wished I could close my eyes and not have to deal with the mess. I wished things were different, and just poof! by magic. But I could not. I couldn't ignore the bloodshot eyes nor the stench of old beer. I couldn't convince myself that I actually had smoked the cigarettes myself that were missing from my pack even though I kept close count. I could not ignore the erratic behavior or the slipping grades or the missing money or the cock-eyed stories or the struggle to wake him up in the mornings. I couldn't unsee the things I had seen. And I really really REALLY wished I could. And there was no help. Not from school or law enforcement or social services or church or friends or family. No help no help no help. And no one understood. Until I came here. And you all gave me respite from my broken heart. And gave me back my spirit and the will to go on. And helped me find the next right thing to do. My story did not turn out as I would have hoped - well, check that - my son's story did not turn out as I hoped. But as Leafy is always gently reminding us, the end of the story is not yet written. I am proud and grateful that I was a Warrior Mom. I did what I needed to do in order to "save" my PC24 son, and myself, from GFG31 son's destructive road down drug addiction. If I had to go back and do it all again (GASP!) there's d@mn few things I would change. I did the best I could, with what I had, at the time. And, when I knew more, I did better. Thanks to all of you, Board Aunties past and present, who helped me know more. Peace [/QUOTE]
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