I'd like to talk about acceptance

[Childofmine]

Echo, I read this yesterday but wanted to wait until I could read it again and write more thoughtfully. Everything you write speaks of raw truth and the searching you are doing. It is right where I am too. Sometimes I pinch myself----literally----because how can I feel this empty detachment about my own son?

I think part of acceptance is accepting that this is our life, this is what is, not only with our kids, but simply what we've been given in this life.

When I think about my life, and my involvement with men, especially, it goes like this. My father, 81 now, is a rageaholic. He can't control his temper and he flies off the handle at things he doesn't like. I have finally accepted him. For years we didn't get along at all and I detested his outbursts. I had such contempt for the way he acted. Why couldn't he control himself?

Somewhere along the way, through therapy and through somehow becoming able to see him as a grasping human being, trying and failing a lot, I developed compassion for him. Now granted, I still tense up when he starts his stuff. I also live 11 hours away from him. I can feel my buttons being pushed when he starts, and today, sometimes, I can stay with him and his outbursts sometimes for a little bit, and at other times, I just leave.

I married an alcoholic. We were married for 29 years. I didn't know he was an alcoholic until the last three years of our marriage. I didn't know anything about alcoholism. He was a binge drinker and very high functioning. He had all of the behaviors and over the years, I enabled. I developed contempt for him and his behavior, his weakness, his impatience, his inabilities. I lost respect for him. In the end, I could barely be in the same room with him. I had to----HAD TO---get some distance. We ended up getting divorced, something I never wanted to do in my life, but that is what happened. My exhusband is in recovery now and I am glad for him. I wish him well.

Today, I am in a relationship with a recovering alcoholic. (what a pattern). He has alcoholic personality traits. I don't like some of them. He can be very judgmental. He works hard on himself all the time, and he practices recovery. We have good boundaries. Sometimes I need time away from him, too. I have tremendous respect for him. He is human, and I see his flaws, and I have compassion for the work he does on himself every day. He is very honest. He will correct himself if he starts to embellish something. He teaches me about being more honest.

And you know my son's story.

There are themes here that I believe are helpful: Respect. Out of control behavior. Contempt. Tolerance. Compassion.

But most importantly: Distance. Space. Time. This is the answer, I believe.

We all love people who are not perfect. We are not perfect. We try so hard to change and to accept and to detach and to love and we have good days and bad days. We make progress but we aren't satisfied. What is the best way, the right way, the good way to do this---THIS THING----we are trying to do, that is the hardest thing we have ever done in all our lives.

We love our children desperately. We love them to the core of who we are and back. We would give ANYTHING, anything in the world to see them whole.

But we can't do a single solitary thing to make it happen. But we still love them. We still want to see them, but when we do, we are miserable.

What to do?

The best we can.

This will be a lifetime's work. Doing this and living with it every single day, every single minute.

Here are my truths:

1. I love my son and today, it is intolerable for me to even think about never seeing him. The pain I feel just writing that is crushing.
2. So I will see him. I will learn, through trial and error, how much is too much. I will continue to adjust until I can make it tolerable for myself.
3. And while I am doing that, I will continue to work hard on me. I am a very judgmental person. You can see what from my story. That is a major character defect that I have. I don't like that about me at all. But I keep on doing it. I keep on being judgmental.

Seeing that truth in myself creates compassion in me for my son, who maybe tries to change but just keeps on doing it.

Or maybe not.

There is no redemption in trying to figure out the past. What, why, who, when, my role/his role. Or to try to manage any of that for the future. It is almost irrelevant.

I just want to accept. I want peace. I want to quit struggling against. I want to rest in the "what is." I want to give up the fight. I want these things---I see them way, way out there as goals, but I don't know how to live them and do them.

Thank God there are some breaks here. When he is in jail, I can accomplish some of that. I can relax. I am not holding my breath.

Today a man was found dead in our town---a homeless man. This could have been my son. Thank God he is in jail and so I immediately knew it was not him, this time.

Tomorrow he goes to court. Something new will happen. The phone will flash Shreveport, Louisiana, sometime tomorrow. I will answer it, and he will tell me what happened, and then I will somehow have to assimiliate that new information into my life. He will likely ask me for things, and I will have to say No again and again. There is such a cost to all of that, for me. It is hard for me. I am sure it will never be easy. There is no one else I would do this with and for. No one.

I just have no control over any of this. God help me to accept that, really accept it, and let it all go, let it float away on the wind. Let me release him to the Universe, over and over and over until I finally do completely release him.

What a journey this life is turning out to be. For so many years, in elementary, junior high and high school, I would often think: is this all there is? What is the purpose of life, anyway? This can't be it. We just do the same things every day and on and on and on. What's the point? I now know how much richer life can be, and I am learning it all the hardest possible way.

Love is the only thing that makes any sense. All of the facets of love, the best and the worst. I never want to stop loving. Even though it really hurts, sometimes.

Blessings and hugs and gratitude for the honesty and the questions on this thread that have helped me so much, and for the warriors here, the incredible people who are experiencing the rawness and the richness of life at its most authentic levels. Us.

 

[Echolette]

Child,

I read this yestarday, but wanted to wait till I was at a real computer with a real screen and had time to reflect. Truth be told I am also working on letting go of my son by letting go of my death grip on the forum...sometimes I think I transfer my free-floating anxiety to the computer, as I scan repeatedly for new posts to which to respond, new responses to my posts. That is not a reflection of a whole life! I am going to try to keep it to once or twice a day...

I developed contempt for him and his behavior, his weakness, his impatience, his inabilities.

I share this, both with my ex husband, and with a lot of people around me, and most of the men in my life. I eventually become dismissive. I believe that somehow I am "better than" while simultaneously being deeply insecure. I repeat that with my difficult child, and sometimes with my easy child's. I am working hard not to repeat it with my SO, and never to do it with my kids or inner circle ever again. SO helps by seeing it, calling me on it. HOw toxic must that be to those around me! I am working working working on that. I am better. Thank you for stating this so clearly.

Distance. Space. Time. This is the answer, I believe.

Sometimes I think I need so much space there is only room for me and my animals! Sometimes not even room for the dogs, who are their own needy selves. Cats, maybe...
And, more seriously, as you have often repeated in response to other people's posts...pause. wait. time is a healer. space allows us the room we need to be, the air we need to breathe. A Room of One's Own, yes?

So I will see him. I will learn, through trial and error, how much is too much. I will continue to adjust until I can make it tolerable for myself.

Whether I like it or not this is where I am. SO far I find that even brief contact makes me behave in ugly ways (not objectively ugly, just ugly to myself, and presumably hurtful to difficult child, although he can be amazingly resilient). So in addition to figure out how much is too much, there is the question of how to be, how to manage, the little there is. If I could come to that, I might be able to make more contact. Which I would like. (there is a true thought I hadn't had before!)

A truth for me: I would like more contact with difficult child if I could make it less painful to me to see him.
That is on me.

Thank God there are some breaks here. When he is in jail, I can accomplish some of that. I can relax. I am not holding my breath.

I will confess that sometimes lately, Child, I have envied your position of having difficult child in jail. how CRAZY is that??????? and only something that those of us on the forum could ever understand.

I've said before that my SO had a severely mentally ill mother, who he had sole responsibility for managing from about age 13-43, when she died. He told me once that he had the most peace when she was hospitalized. I was horrifeid (I think this coincided with my son's first real psychiatric hospitalization). Oh how I rue that judgment now!! WAlk a mile in some one elses shoes, right?

Of course I do not wish your son in jail, Child, I know you understand that. I wish him whole and healthy, and you too....but I know that you don't have to think of him cold or hungry or scared, I know you don't have to manage meetings, decide what to do or not do, worry about him being the dead homeless guy...I know you understand me here.

Love is the only thing that makes any sense. All of the facets of love, the best and the worst. I never want to stop loving. Even though it really hurts, sometimes.

The love I have for neurotypical people in my life is often painful too. My easy child's grow up, drift away. They may like my ex and his very nice very beautiful girlfriend more than they like me and my rougher, less elegant SO. My daughter lives 2000 miles away. My mom is dead, my sister lonely. Loving all these people hurts. Like you, I never want to stop loving. Love is the only thing that makes any sense.

This is when I turn to the buddhist 4 sufferings, one of which is...we must accept that we will lose those we love.

When we can accept that we can be whole within ourselves, and free to enjoy the ones we love without anxiety, without attachment.

Let me know what happened in court today, Child.

Echo