Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="New Leaf" data-source="post: 766142" data-attributes="member: 19522">Oh Copa, I am so sorry your day turned out to be so hard. Does it ever end?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. 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. 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. 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.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? It is extremely painful. Not having contact with our adult children is hard enough, but harder still when they show up and then disappear.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 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</blockquote>

Verification