Reality

[New Leaf]

I have been absent for a bit, watching grandkids, working my jungle garden and busy with granddaughter who is in the height of her teenage years, a junior now and doing quite well in school.
Just came back from a two week visit with mom and sisters. New England in the fall is so beautiful. Mom will be 91 and has dementia and health issues, it is difficult to leave, being so far away is hard.
Dealt with an excruciating stomach flu upon coming home but feel much better. Glad I didn’t get hit on the long plane trip home.
The phone rang yesterday, Rain is back in the hospital, been there for about 5 days. She has lived on the streets addicted to meth for over ten years and it has taken its toll. I pulled myself together and went to visit. This time around it’s not the leg infection, it’s years of unchecked diabetes, high blood pressure and God only knows what else due to meth use and street life. She arrived at the hospital in kidney failure, lungs full of fluids and her heart on the cusp of failure as well. She has responded to treatment and medications, but doctor said if her kidneys don’t improve, she is looking at dialysis in a year or two. She needs to stop the meth and follow up with cardiac care. Sigh.
Rain said this health event has scared her enough to do something, but who knows? She will be released as soon as they control the fluid retention and find the right medications. Probably within the next couple of days. Her pattern has been to disappear off into the streets again and not follow through with treatment. As I write this, I am kind of in a numb state, reviewing the sad reality in my mind and trying to breath through the initial reaction of wanting to scoop her up and offer to bring her home.
That’s what any mother would do right?
That’s the harsh part of this reality, I am not just any mother. I am the mother of two meth addicted daughters who have over and again abandoned themselves and their families to meth use and street life. I am the mother of three well children and grandmother of nine, great grandmother of soon to be six. I am the grandmother of a beautiful 16 year old in my care, who deserves to live in a peaceful, secure home, as do I. I am a mother who has been there, done that with the addiction not so merry go round, the drama and trauma of it all. And still I grapple with the hard reality that I can’t bring my extremely ill first born home.

This is my place to stand: Our adult children (almost all of them) can meet their own needs. They know how to get food, shelter, get on and pay for the bus, get medical care, etc. They are unmotivated for a variety of reasons.

Thank you Copa. This is the reality. My daughter, if she chooses, can get a free phone, she can get help from social services, she can get free taxi rides to appointments, has state medical insurance, plus can get on SSI now that she has been diagnosed with heart and kidney disease. She can get fast tracked into medical housing for homeless in her situation. Whether or not she does this, is up to her. She is 45 years old, an adult, not a child.
On top of all of this, I just learned that Tornado, released from jail two weeks ago for probation ordered rehab, left rehab and is back on the streets. I am sad, but honestly, not surprised. It has been her pattern for six years. I told her in her last call from jail that I would not be putting money into a phone account if she ended up leaving rehab. She has a bench warrant and will eventually be picked up, as she is well known in the system. She knows the repercussions. For now, the on again off again contact, the glimpses of sobriety and the return to meth use has been an emotional yo-yo that is just.too.much. I do realize that I may change my mind about contact and that’s okay. It is the nature of this beast we deal with, addiction, sobriety, relapse and walking the thin line between loving our adult children, detachment, guarding our hearts, our sanity, our peace of mind.
As Copa said in the same post I quoted “We are not things, we are souls.”
I have long thought and written that meth is a soul snatcher. The victims are not only those addicted, but also family members who become disillusioned into thinking that sacrificing themselves will bring about change in their loved ones choices to use. It doesn’t.
Meth has ensnared my daughters and I must bolster up the strength to once again, stand firm and let God and let go. As I write this, I am also cognizant of how difficult this is.
I am extremely thankful that I am able to reach out to the kind souls here who understand all too well this journey. I have been on this path for years and have friends and family that are tired of hearing these stories. There are those who wonder why “I just won’t bring my girls home”. For those of you who have followed along, please know I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my heart and thoughts. I apologize for the “trauma dump”.
I wish we all didn’t have to carry this burden. But here we are. So, I will write this as a hope and prayer, may God watch over our wayward beloveds and give us the strength to carry on and go forth and grow with grace.
Amen.
New Leaf

 

[Copabanana]

Hi New Leaf.
I am always so happy when you post. But as we say this does not take away my sadness that you must. Oh that we would know and love each other in another reality, say, at homes near the beach, next door, to sit and talk and walk and sip our drinks, and talk some more. I will write more later.

I needed to tell you how sorry I am that Rain is in such a state (and you with her, for how could it not be so.) In the deepest part of my heart I pray that she will find strength to choose to live. Love, Copa

 

[New Leaf]

From the bottom of my heart to my very essence, I thank you for reaching out yet again Copa.

Oh that we would know and love each other in another reality, say, at homes near the beach, next door, to sit and talk and walk and sip our drinks, and talk some more.

Yes, this. Exactly this. It has felt as much through time spent here on CD, the closeness and bond of shared challenges, heartache and encouragement. How wonderful it would be to be neighbors! But please know that across the ocean, your wisdom, kindness, compassion and honesty has sustained me through these years.

I needed to tell you how sorry I am that Rain is in such a state (and you with her, for how could it not be so.) In the deepest part of my heart I pray that she will find strength to choose to live. Love, Copa

I pray the same too, for it has come to this, a choice to live. How I wish that she would find her way and light within and choose life.
Thank you Copa.
Love New Leaf

 

[ButCoffeeFirst]

Hi New Leaf,
I am so sorry. Your grief thrums through your words, but also your strength and steadfast commitment to stand firm, again, accepting what you cannot change and investing your support and energy where it does make a difference. That is the only path forward ultimately. And you are still on it. Stepping back to guard your sanity is painful, hard and necessary.

i don’t want to add another responsibility, but I want to say that your long journey and the hard earned wisdom you have accumulated and share through this board is of enormous benefit to those of us newer to this marathon. You wouldn’t choose to be a member mentor or a support in this club, but since you are I want you to know how much your words here help others. Have helped me. To reflect, to empathise with others and myself (if that can happen), to accept, to allow myself a life beyond sacrificing myself for a loved child that I cannot rescue.
Your words help me.
And I am so grateful that you post here.
Love ButCoffeeFirst

 

[Copabanana]

Rain said this health event has scared her enough to do something, but who knows? She will be released as soon as they control the fluid retention and find the right medications.

Hi again New Leaf, it's late here but I wanted to get in a few more words.
If I was the hospital social worker i would discharge her to a medical facility where she would get drug treatment, psychological treatment and medical care.

wanting to scoop her up and offer to bring her home.

Your house offers none of these things.

 

[New Leaf]

Hi ButCoffeeFirst,
Thank you so much for your kind response and encouragement.

I am so sorry. Your grief thrums through your words, but also your strength and steadfast commitment to stand firm, again, accepting what you cannot change and investing your support and energy where it does make a difference. That is the only path forward ultimately. And you are still on it. Stepping back to guard your sanity is painful, hard and necessary.

I know that I will have to work hard at reaffirming my stance and balance while processing this reality. The fog rolls in and bodes me to reevaluate my position, the questions swirling through my head, then talking myself back to as you so aptly put “the only path ultimately.” It is still a battle for me as a mother, but that means I have to go back to my “toolbox” to work through the grief.

i don’t want to add another responsibility, but I want to say that your long journey and the hard earned wisdom you have accumulated and share through this board is of enormous benefit to those of us newer to this marathon. You wouldn’t choose to be a member mentor or a support in this club, but since you are I want you to know how much your words here help others. Have helped me. To reflect, to empathise with others and myself (if that can happen), to accept, to allow myself a life beyond sacrificing myself for a loved child that I cannot rescue.
Your words help me.
And I am so grateful that you post here.

I have read and reread this. I am eternally grateful to be able to come here and write out my thoughts and receive such help and support on this journey. In truth, when I respond to others with the challenges we face, and what has ultimately worked for me, I am also writing to myself as a reminder of a past I do not want to repeat. Thank you so much for your encouragement and support.
“To allow myself a life beyond sacrificing myself for a loved child that I cannot rescue.”
I need to put this on my fridge.
I have to remind myself to lean back and breathe, to have faith that God has got this.
Thank you Coffee.
New Leaf

 

[New Leaf]

Hi Copa,

Hi again New Leaf, it's late here but I wanted to get in a few more words.
If I was the hospital social worker i would discharge her to a medical facility where she would get drug treatment, psychological treatment and medical care.

Me too. I am not sure what is immediately available for her, but Rain has said that social workers have come to visit. She mentioned the medical treatment shelter, but that there is a waitlist. We have a huge problem here on Oahu with meth.
When I talk with Rain, I wonder if she fully grasps her situation, and how willing she would be to go into treatment, once they find the right medications and she feels better. She tends to forget the peril that drove her to get medical help, the lure of the streets wins.
One option that I have thought about is to see if Rain will allow me to sit with her and talk with a social worker.

Your house offers none of these things.

This is very true. As I have written in the past, I do not have the resources, knowledge and background to truly be of help to my daughters. Their being in my home has never helped them, only driven us into the downward spiral of the rabbit hole. What a macabre dance that is.
Thank you Copa, your thoughts in the night have helped tremendously.

 

[Copabanana]

I have a very old friend who was in the situation medically that Rain is in, absent the drugs. Or worse. They were in Turkey for the year and he was unaware his blood pressure medicine was insufficient. He ended up with kidney failure and needed open heart surgery. I saw him last year. He seemed fine.

But there has to be a pivot point.

One option that I have thought about is to see if Rain will allow me to sit with her and talk with a social worker.

Since last night I have been wondering and worrying about Rain's psychological competence, at this point, to make good medical decisions or any good decisions. I agree she needs an advocate, if she would accept one. (Our children seem to have reduced their lives to just one speed, on or off. Sigh.)

We know New Leaf that people stop meth. Even after years and years and years. They do. My town was a major transport hub from Mexico in the 90's. I see middle age people all over the town with the effects of meth on their faces, who are sober, and working. Or they tell me their before and after stories. She could do this. The pivot.

 

[New Leaf]

Hi Copa,
Yes the pivot.

But there has to be a pivot point.

Right now I see her street “boyfriend” as a huge block to her follow through. He is abusive, but she will make excuses for him. He prevented her from completing her antibiotic treatment for her last leg infection by taking her phone. He was at the hospital when I visited and of course, I don’t like him at all. To say the least.

Since last night I have been wondering and worrying about Rain's psychological competence, at this point, to make good medical decisions or any good decisions. I agree she needs an advocate, if she would accept one. (Our children seem to have reduced their lives to just one speed, on or off. Sigh.)

I have thought for many years that she needed advocacy not only due to her meth use, history of countless situations with abusive men and more recently, her hospitalizations. Unfortunately, the nurses and docs don’t see it that way. As long as she is able to prove competency, (whatever the measurement for that is, I think the bar is set quite low) she has “freedom of choice”. I am reminded that I have no control over her choices. So as the thoughts swirl round in my head exacerbated by this newfound medical issue, I am resigned to take baby steps, day by day and be there for her and just love her. It is so easy to get caught up in a maelstrom of emotions and get swept away with what ifs and so on. That leads me to the edge and I can’t function, can’t make rational decisions. Start failing physically, mentally and spiritually. So I suppose “the pivot” applies to me as well. I have pivoted from the old me and the old initial reactions turned to rescue mode. Along the way I have pivoted back and forth. I have learned through the years that rescue mode has never worked, yet, that pattern still lingers in the back of my mind, trying to tiptoe to the forefront with fear, obligation and guilt, beckoning. The whole “lest I grow cold” conundrum, “I have to do something”, “I am her mother.” Or “Things will be different this time, it’s life or death.” Or, “How could I let her go back to the streets in this condition?” Frankly, I will always be a “recovering enabler”. I cannot coerce, plead or force my two waywards into a lifestyle I so wish for them, hoped and dreamed for them, even in a life or death struggle. I can only pray.

We know New Leaf that people stop meth. Even after years and years and years. They do. My town was a major transport hub from Mexico in the 90's. I see middle age people all over the town with the effects of meth on their faces, who are sober, and working. Or they tell me their before and after stories. She could do this. The pivot.

People do stop meth. There is hope. But, it has always been and will be her choice whether to quit, or not. That is the harsh reality. She has to choose better, in order to live. All I can do for now, is to be present and loving, and assist in whatever way is feasible without slipping into attachment and enabling. She could pivot, and I pray daily that she will.
Thank you Copa

 

[New Leaf]

Well I just got off the phone with Rain, they are releasing her. She was trying to get out of the room to avoid her boyfriend, who now is not really her boyfriend but just keeps showing up……..sigh.
She is catching a taxi to a friends’ apartment and from there, I don’t know. She does not have a phone. So, unless she reaches out I have no way of contacting her.
She did say that an old friend visited her who has been sober for 6 years and offered to help her get into rehab.
I hope and pray that she will follow through. I hope that she will at least keep in touch.
It’s never ending.
God help us.

 

[Copabanana]

Oh.
Well. It's clear-cut. She will do what she will do, and you, with her.

So I suppose “the pivot” applies to me as well.

All of us.

I have learned through the years that rescue mode has never worked, yet, that pattern still lingers in the back of my mind, trying to tiptoe to the forefront with fear, obligation and guilt, beckoning.

No. I think what is there is love.

“How could I let her go back to the streets in this condition?”

If she goes back to the streets it is she who is going. You're not pushing her. You could never save her. You can't now. She can only save herself. You have to save yourself. I have to save myself. That's how it works. If there was another way, we would have found it. We tried and tried and tried to find the right door.

She knows you love her. That is everything. That is what we can give. (I have a hard time.. I get mad. Still.)

New Leaf, we never could get it right because it's our children who have to want it. They have to be able to want something different for themselves. They can. But it's not our wanting that finds the door. It's theirs.

But, it has always been and will be her choice whether to quit, or not. That is the harsh reality.

Yes. It's reality. But harsh, no. She owns her life. We are only in charge of our own lives. That's where we went wrong, New Leaf. It's just plain old reality. Let's see what she does.

She seems to have made distance from this jerk of a guy. She has this old friend who is recovering that is offering help. Baby steps.

Prayers. New Leaf, please go rest. Do whatever you can do now for yourself and your granddaughter to recover your strength and focus



_

 

[Kalahou]

ALOHA Leaf and Copa, dear friends,

I weep to see you post again New Leaf. Both for joy at “seeing” you again and for the grief of “rinse / repeat” of same and new issues. I lift Rain and Tornado in my love, thoughts, and prayers. I am following you along. Also thankful for your other ohana members who support you and bring joy.

Copa, you also – always a voice of truth and clarity. Both of you were first here for me in 2015 when I first joined PE, and I felt your kindred hearts knit together with my soul. That link has sustained me over and over again, as I see you still here, and soak in your wisdom. I have seen us all grow since then / become new in many ways. We have survived (and to a point thrived) in the midst of the madness we find ourselves in.

I have not posted here about my own situation for so long, but I do come here often - out of need for support and strength. One reason I have not posted is because my son (3rd child - 45 yrs) remains incarcerated (last 3+ years) , which has been a peaceful reprieve for my “roller-coaster” of despair. I am now 78 years old, and need this peace for my own health and safety. When son is eventually released before long (which will happen I know) we will then see the evidence of whether any prison time / rehab / aging has wrought a change of heart with him re: meth use and crime. I expect nothing, but keep some hope alive with aloha. We are going to be alright.

Bless you dear sisters. E pule kakou.
Kalahou

 

[New Leaf]

Aloha nui Kalahou,
How wonderful to “see” you and know that you have been given some respite from the “rinse, repeat cycle.”

I weep to see you post again New Leaf. Both for joy at “seeing” you again and for the grief of “rinse / repeat” of same and new issues. I lift Rain and Tornado in my love, thoughts, and prayers. I am following you along. Also thankful for your other ohana members who support you and bring joy.

It is very much so “rinse/repeat” and while it is wearing, I have to find ways to keep both feet on the ground. Thank you for your prayers. It is what I have to lean back on to keep steady, as well as the support I have here and from family who know the challenges I face finding balance.

I have not posted here about my own situation for so long, but I do come here often - out of need for support and strength. One reason I have not posted is because my son (3rd child - 45 yrs) remains incarcerated (last 3+ years) , which has been a peaceful reprieve for my “roller-coaster” of despair.

How strange it is to feel relief that our adult children are incarcerated, how I well know that feeling. Each time Tornado has been picked up I let out a sigh, because I know she will again have the chance to be sober and get off the streets. Admittedly, it is also a chance for me to breathe because I know she won’t be randomly showing up at my house, either breaking in while I’m not home, or bringing street “friends” along with her.

I am now 78 years old, and need this peace for my own health and safety. When son is eventually released before long (which will happen I know) we will then see the evidence of whether any prison time / rehab / aging has wrought a change of heart with him re: meth use and crime. I expect nothing, but keep some hope alive with aloha. We are going to be alright.

I am 65, and truly understand and feel the effects of this journey. I hope for my wayward daughters and your son, that they will find their true light and escape the talons of meth. I am also long past expectations, but give my two to Akua in hopes that He will watch over them. They have had many opportunities to pivot, hopefully one day they will steer a different course.
We are going to be alright, because we have to. We are the lighthouses upon the jagged cliffs.
All my aloha to you Kalahou.
Leaf

 

[New Leaf]

Unexpectedly, but not so unexpectedly, as I watched the news in the early evening, I heard a voice coming from my driveway. “Ma”. It was Rain, who made her way to my house on a dilapidated moped with an old street ex-boyfriend, both of them looking disheveled, wearing the long history of addiction.
She sat stooped over on my porch step, clutching a bag and rambling on about her “boyfriend not boyfriend” who I call Mumbles, because In the few times I’ve met him, I can’t understand a word he says.
Apparently, the apartment she took the taxi to from the hospital was never a place she planned to stay at. I asked her what happened to transferring to the medical shelter, she said because she had the address to the apartment, that wasn’t an option. So, in other words, she had no intention of going to the shelter.
She then went on to say that she went down to the bridge where she had been living and that “Mumbles” had thrown her belongings in the stream.
She recounted that she walked to a nearby park and Mumbles was there, where a confrontation ensued.
Talk about “rinse, repeat”.
Her demeanor was so different from when in the hospital, I suspected that she was high, and I asked her if she was. Of course she denied it, and said that she was shaken up by her argument with Mumbles. By her description, he is the same type that she has latched onto for years, controlling, jealous, and violent. But, she stays in the situation, blaming him for always “showing up.”
I am reminded of how many times she has appeared at my doorstep, beat down by the choices she’s made. Or, her sisters have rushed to meet her at emergency rooms, because boyfriends have assaulted her and she called her siblings for help, they held her hand and encouraged her to press charges, get clean. She would be treated and released only to go back to the same men. Her sisters are understandably “done.”
Rains lifestyle has been walking on the shaky fence of street life, violent partners and drug use for so long now, and just as I had pondered about this time around, as soon as she was released from the hospital, back on the fence she went.
She said she “just wanted a hot shower”. She showered and sat for a bit, her brother made her a plate of food, then her street friend came back and off they went into the night. Like so many, many times before.
I saw in the news this morning that there was a fire set last night in the homeless encampment under the bridge where Rain has been living, and I can’t help but wonder if it was Mumbles. Who knows? I swallow the lump in my throat and attempt to stop my mind from ruminating over supposed possibilities, by writing here and saying a prayer.
I can’t save her, I never could.
She will make the choices she makes.
I try not to go to catastrophic thought, as has been my way as a mother, (as if thinking of worst case scenario’s will prepare me in case the unthinkable happens). I read an article not too long ago, which explained that thinking this way only sets one up for heightened stress levels and anxiety. It can also lead to issues with chronic pain, and PTSD, which many of us have stated that dealing with addicted loved ones surely has led us to.
Practicing mindfulness and living in the present moment is essential to retrain thought processing and calm down. (I am talking to myself here).
It is what it is. What will be, will be. Or, as my fathers favorite stoic quote from Epictetus bodes, “Seek not to have things happen as you choose them, but rather choose that they should happen as they do, and you shall live prosperously.”
Still, it is a weird feeling, carrying on the days chores while all of this shifts through my heart and mind. Maybe it is the truth of powerlessness, the work of quelling the voices of old habits whispering that “I need to do something, anything,” coupled with the knowledge that I am not the answer.
I am not the answer.
New Leaf

 

[New Leaf]

Ps.
In all honesty I was a big ball of do nothing today. I am so sad and tired.

 

[Copabanana]

Dear New Leaf
Oh no.
My day was like yours. The first thing I knew when i woke up was M telling me that my son was outside. Because we've been remodeling the bed is in the living room near the window. I freaked out. I got up and saw this fantasma/ghost outside the window. I felt immediately traumatized but first went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone. M later told me he had answered the door and my son just left.
I had a long day's work that began at 830 and I couldn't engage. I just couldn't.
My son looked horrible. Just horrible. Like the worst homeless person. Beaten up by life. He told me he has nowhere to go nowhere to hide. He feels stalked. Imagine being on the street with no where to hide, no place that is yours. And afraid. And your mother doesn't want you.
When I finished my days work M said I was "brava" with all my patients. It means at best spirited or energetic. It's like saying bravo but not exactly. It can mean rough. Or brave. I got defensive but didn't show it. And then he called me over to guess where one of the cats was, Micah, the female who loves me so much and she had climbed up into a shelf she never goes. Her mommy had scared her.
I told M all day I had been defending against my feelings of the morning. G-d knows how I was acting.
M had told me he didn't think I was fulfilling my responsibilitie as a mother to my son.
Honestly, New Leaf, I can't survive this. I cannot bear the pain of it.
M (who has been slugged various times by my son, called him to let him go to the other house because he thinks my son wanted a hot shower. Oh my Lord. The pain of this.
My son had broken his phone. I called. Whoever's phone he is calling from doesn't answer. He's unreachable.
That is the metaphor. Unreachable.
I am going to try to find some peace. Listen to a lecture online. Read the paper. It can always be worse.
New Leaf, with all my heart I wish this was different for us. We are kind, nice , sensitive people. We are not built for this kind of hurt.
I love you. Copa You are not alone.

 

[Copabanana]

PS I am so, so sorry.

 

[New Leaf]

Oh Copa, I am so sorry your day turned out to be so hard. Does it ever end?

The first thing I knew when i woke up was M telling me that my son was outside. Because we've been remodeling the bed is in the living room near the window. I freaked out. I got up and saw this fantasma/ghost outside the window. I felt immediately traumatized but first went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone.

How long has it been since you have seen your son? It is the hardest, hardest thing to deal with when my daughters just show up at my house, I know that feeling of trauma as well. The “What do I do now? Why is she here, this time?” I am painfully aware that my daughters pose a risk to my health and my home. It’s a horrible thing to have to weigh, our love for our adult children versus the reality of their choices, and the fact that we become things to them. I have to come to terms that housing my daughters is a convenience for them to continue more comfortably as is. But at what risk to me, to the sanctuary of my home? I am also painfully aware that contact with them evokes all of the feelings that I have, tests my resolve to keep healthy boundaries, raises questions about my stance, and how to carry on loving them without enabling.

M later told me he had answered the door and my son just left.
I had a long day's work that began at 830 and I couldn't engage. I just couldn't.

I’m so sorry. It is so unfortunate that we have to make these hard choices of whether to engage, or not. We do have our lives to live, responsibilities. Looking back on when my daughters have reappeared like “ghosts” in my driveway, or peering in my window, the timing of it has been impeccably connected to other challenging life events or obligations.

My son looked horrible. Just horrible. Like the worst homeless person. Beaten up by life. He told me he has nowhere to go nowhere to hide. He feels stalked. Imagine being on the street with no where to hide, no place that is yours. And afraid. And your mother doesn't want you.

This has been my struggle. It’s not that we don’t want our adult children. Or even that we can’t slide back down that slippery slope of diving deep into the rabbit hole of feeling that we are their only resource. Feeling that we could save them by our love, by sacrificing ourselves, our homes over and again. We have traveled this road such a long time and the reality of it hurts. I could have asked Rain to stay at my house. I won’t. That hurts too. Especially with this medical situation she is in. It only emphasizes the peril her choices have led her too. Seeing your son in the condition he is in is a shock to your heart and soul. I am so sorry.

When I finished my days work M said I was "brava" with all my patients. It means at best spirited or energetic. It's like saying bravo but not exactly. It can mean rough. Or brave. I got defensive but didn't show it. And then he called me over to guess where one of the cats was, Micah, the female who loves me so much and she had climbed up into a shelf she never goes. Her mommy had scared her.

What was M trying to imply? Does he understand how difficult it is to put on a brave face and carry on the day with all of these thoughts and feelings going on? I’m sure your cat sensed the turmoil you must feel.

I told M all day I had been defending against my feelings of the morning. G-d knows how I was acting.
M had told me he didn't think I was fulfilling my responsibilitie as a mother to my son.
Honestly, New Leaf, I can't survive this. I cannot bear the pain of it.

Oh good Lord, Copa, this is not what you need to hear. You have tried everything to offer your son a place, reasonable rules and every time he has tested you to your limit. Do we not chastise ourselves enough for the boundaries we have to set for our safety and sanity? It reminds me of when Hubs was alive and he had Rain coming up to the house weekly, to shower, he washed her clothes, fixed her food. Then off to the streets she would go. It was his way of showing love for her. Of course she took advantage of this but it did not motivate her to make better choices. Our home became a sort of “rest stop” which allowed her to live a bit more easily on the streets. Her father’s love did not cause her to take a deep hard look at the conditions she was living in. Which is what we have been faced with, that we love our waywards, but if love could save them, wouldn’t our bending over backwards time and again have been the solution?

M (who has been slugged various times by my son, called him to let him go to the other house because he thinks my son wanted a hot shower. Oh my Lord. The pain of this.

It is extremely painful. Not having contact with our adult children is hard enough, but harder still when they show up and then disappear.

My son had broken his phone. I called. Whoever's phone he is calling from doesn't answer. He's unreachable.
That is the metaphor. Unreachable.

It is a metaphor. Unreachable. How do we help someone who will not help themselves? I am hitting the stage where I feel…mad. Mad at myself for allowing the despair of my daughter’s situation to overwhelm and immobilize me. Mad that my daughter will not except the true help offered her, and then blame social workers for not “holding her hand” so to speak and walking her through the steps towards rehab. They visited her, gave her the options, the paperwork, she did not follow through, then complained that they worked with her a few days then didn’t come back. They gave her the pathway toward recovery but she chose to lie about having a place to stay. She chose to go back to the streets. Is she capable to make good decisions? She knows to get medical care in an emergency, but to follow through the next steps towards sobriety and better health has been the challenge. Because she wants to keep living the way she has been.

I am going to try to find some peace. Listen to a lecture online. Read the paper. It can always be worse.
New Leaf, with all my heart I wish this was different for us. We are kind, nice , sensitive people. We are not built for this kind of hurt.
I love you. Copa You are not alone.

I hope that you are feeling better today, Copa. It can always be worse. I feel at times that my daughters show up and pull at my heart strings with the awfulness of their lives. Like “Look how pitiful I have become.” It causes great distress emotionally for me, but they go on to continue the same path. It is maddening. Something has got to stop, and it is entirely up to me to keep my distance from the rabbit hole, to not synchronize my life along with their choices.
True, we are kind and sensitive, this journey we are on is incredibly tough on our souls. So, we have to dig deep into our toolbox and find ways to carry on, despite the rollercoaster of nagging pain that rises up with the consequences our adult children’s choices present.
I spent yesterday just plain weary and paralyzed. That’s okay. But I know that I need to grab a hold of myself by the bootstraps and carry on. My demise into the depths of sorrow will not bring about the change in my two that I long for, that I pray for. So, today is a new day and with each breath, I need to bolster my determination to live, and live well. I hope the same for you, dear friend.
I love you too. We are not alone.
Me ke aloha,
New Leaf

 

[New Leaf]

Ps I’m mad at M

M had told me he didn't think I was fulfilling my responsibilitie as a mother to my son.

No, just no. Stop it. I have an invisible M in my head that will try to guilt me into thinking this way. “You are her mother, just take her in and take care of her.”
Yes, I folded with Tornado when she was in transition to the sober home. She was trying to change.
I helped Hoku, when she was so critically ill with her childbirth injury.
It is different when our adult children have made and are making choices that are detrimental to themselves and others. Us. It is different if they put forth the effort to better their lives, and are sincerely trying.
You gave your son a good life. Yes, he has health issues and suffered a brain injury. That does not obligate you to sacrifice your health and safety.
I’m sorry Copa, but as a mother who has to stop my own thinking that “If I did more, things would change.”
Time and again my daughters have proven that “M” voice wrong.