the ball is in his court??

[Copabanana]

what a beautiful post, new leaf.

i am sorry my post gave rise to sadness. i am sad for each of us.

just a few words now for ltd time.

your miracle worker analogy is beautiful.

the stardust quotes beautiful, as well.

i feel like an old gnarled tree that has been split down the middle. i am open to the elements. the bark that has protected me, peeled away. i feel completely undefended.

my son will never be so-called normal. he is a loving, inteligent, charming, gorgeous and kind soul. he has strengths. but he will almost certainly always be disorganized, quirky and vulnerable. i guess i am, too.

maybe that is part of the deep pain and fear.

he wonders why i am so angry, insistent and desperate.

i guess through this post i am recognizing that there is a fair amount of projection going on, on my part.

i cannot bear my own pain. my own vulnerability actually. he is doing quite well integrating his own.

there is a letting go on my part that is not happening.

a trusting on my part...that is quite seriously lacking.

i am a major problem here.

i wish you guys were my neighbors.

i have a real love for you. and deep gratitude.

 

[Copabanana]

this morning was a disaster.

serious wardrobe dysfunction. i seemed to have the unreasonable expectation that he would make the minimal effort to look other than homeless. hysteria ensued. m came home and drove my son back to the other house. my son tried to apologize. i was beyond the pale.

when i went several hours later to the other house my son was there with m, helping them work a bit. if you broadly define help.

the counselor ended up canceling for today and rescheduling for tomorrow. she has another client! my son will have a companion.

i am in agony. this does not compute. i need to get a grip. or a job to occupy my time.

 

[Copabanana]

lbl. it seems we are more than a little alike. thank you as always for your caring.

albatross. thank you for such a vote of confidence. that i do not feel in myself. or for myself.

while i get the concept , faith, i can only feel my way. with training wheels. like old fashioned litte girl roller skates.

i lived on a steep hill with city-stucco faced houses side by side. i would creep down the hill with those skates, my little hands scraping the stucco to not lurch forward.

that image is the closest i can come to faith. which to me can only be felt thus far as courage. nothing at all resembling where i need to go.

 

[Albatross]

I wish we were neighbors too, Copa. I would hug you as I tell you to stop torturing yourself. You've got this, by not trying to get it. But when you try to get it, you don't have it at all.

You are like the monkey whose hand is trapped in the coconut, because he won't let go of his hopes of getting the treat inside. Does that make any sense?

In my opinion, you don't need to have your hand in this, in any way. No advice, no expectations. Just let go, and let him go. This is his journey. If his first inclination, his honest response, is go to to his counseling session dressed like a homeless person, so be it.

 

[Lil]

serious wardrobe dysfunction. i seemed to have the unreasonable expectation that he would make the minimal effort to look other than homeless. hysteria ensued. m came home and drove my son back to the other house. my son tried to apologize. i was beyond the pale.

This is his journey. If his first inclination, his honest response, is go to to his counseling session dressed like a homeless person, so be it.

Dear Copa...I agree with Albatross...With my son it was even more - my thing was his teeth. His $5,000 in orthodonture which has reverted to his former crooked mess, unbrushed and brown and probably held together by plaque. When he was with me I couldn't stop myself from telling him to brush his teeth. A grown man and his mother is telling him to brush his teeth. That's ridiculous, isn't it? They're better now...at least, less brown, but I still stare at his teeth when I see him.

And clothes. Always black, always ratty and too big and often unwashed. I KNOW - I truly do know - how it feels to see your son dressed in rags, unwashed, knowing he could do better. I hated it. I still hate it. When we went to Colorado and met him and his girlfriend to go out to dinner, he was wearing old trousers that had been cut off below the knee and a grungy hugely oversized t-shirt, a beanie cap pulled over his stringy hair. the rest of us had all made an effort to look nice, meeting the girlfriend for the first time, and he looked like a homeless person.

I bit my tongue. A bit. Yeah, okay...I commented on his clothes and hair (which he ignored and defended but it was all done jokingly by me so he didn't take it to heart) and I did ask that he make a bit of an effort to look better when we took them to Estes Park. And...well, his pants weren't cut off and his t-shirt appeared to be clean, if wrinkled. That's about as good as I could hope for.

His girlfriend and I have had a long talk by text about how wonderful he would look in any color than black. She's buying him clothes for Christmas so he can't say he doesn't own anything else. I'm hoping he'll clean up a bit just to please her. Yes, I admit, it's easier for me as I don't have to see him daily.

Baby steps. Your son is making an effort in some ways. He's seeing the counselor. Your prior post was very positive. There will be ups and downs. Our d.c.'s are like 4 year olds in some respects - you have to pick your battles. If they get up and get ready for the day without tears and fights, does it really matter if they are in a green tutu and purple sweatshirt?

One thing at a time. With improvements in other areas, improvement in appearance will come.

Or not.

Maybe, like mine apparently, he likes looking like a slob. He's a grown man. Isn't that his choice to make? A decent wardrobe wasn't one of your conditions of letting him come home? Was it?

I know how hard it is to ignore the appearance...so don't be offended. This is just my 2 cents.

 

[Jabberwockey]

Maybe, like mine apparently, he likes looking like a slob. He's a grown man. Isn't that his choice to make?

Realistically, this is kind of a guy thing. I know in my mid-20's I seriously dressed like a slob. He will eventually figure out that dressing comfortably can be done without looking like you're homeless.

 

[Copabanana]

my son wears a hoody. he inspires fear and rejection by others.

example: he went with me to costco last week. i asked the returns desk supervisor if my son bearing my card could do the returns while i did the thanksgiving shopping. she said of course. until i pointed him out.

out loud she said: he looks scary. it's better if you stay with him.

of course i see i am a nut job. i worry that the police will stereotype him too.

 

[Jabberwockey]

My thing was camo pants and green tee's from when I was in the military. Its what I was used to and it was comfortable. I had a rather rude awakening one day when I walked by a young (close to my age at the time) lady who out loud said EWWWWW! Started rethinking the wardrobe after that.

 

[RN0441]

Wow Copa. For her to say that is unbelievable!

They cannot wear hoods in the program my son is in. Period. They cannot wear any sweatshirts or jackets or coats or anything that has a hood connected.

Is that because addicts like hoods? I don't know. They used to be for warmth but now they are some type of symbol that project a creepy persona.

 

[New Leaf]

i am sorry my post gave rise to sadness. i am sad for each of us.

It’s okay Copa, it comes and goes. I am able to let those feelings flow through me and process them a little better each time. We do have a tough job.
My siblings children are all successful. That must be a wonderful feeling.
My two. Struggling. Not what I had pictured for them, for sure. Not what any of us pictured for our kids. But here we are.

i feel like an old gnarled tree that has been split down the middle. i am open to the elements. the bark that has protected me, peeled away. i feel completely undefended.

That’s how I felt when hubs passed, and for some time after. A rawness. I couldn’t function well at all. I had to find a way to heal.
We are all grieving our kids choices.
It is a rebuilding. Just like losing hubs, I have to redefine myself, my life. The difference being, that my "other half" is gone.
I have the memories, but, he is gone.
Our d cs are still here, so it is hard to let go.
It's not forced upon us. No finality to it.
As they choose their own lives, it is our choice to how much we hold on to and make their choices a factor in how we live.

he has strengths. but he will almost certainly always be disorganized, quirky and vulnerable. i guess i am, too.

So called normal, what is normal, anyway? Me too, I am not normal. Was not popular in school. I’m quirky and disorganized. My house right now is a mess. Too much stuff going on with work, chauffeuring son, coaching, and several projects in various stages happening.
I read an article that intelligent people are messy.
(what a great excuse).
Most of the people I relate to at work are “not normal”. Quirky characters who are not trying to be anyone else but themselves.

i guess through this post i am recognizing that there is a fair amount of projection going on, on my part.

I think we all see a bit of ourselves in our kids.

But, we are not them and they are not us.

there is a letting go on my part that is not happening.

a trusting on my part...that is quite seriously lacking.

Well, the first part to fixing anything is recognition of the problem. So, you are halfway there. The next step is finding ways to act and react differently. We are creatures of habit. Rinse, repeat. It takes time and work to take old ways of viewing ourselves and situations, and changing.
Change does not come easy.
Letting go.
It’s hard.
Not being caught up in an outcome.
Son is a procrastinator, so am I.
I want him to be successful in school. He has difficulty keeping up with projects. I don’t push him anymore. It is a battle that is not mine. He has to learn his own way to push himself.
He gets upset with me if I hover over him.
Good.
In this day and age, I can go online and look at his grades, see if he is turning in work.
I don’t.
GASP!
Some may see that as bad parenting, but the way I see it, is that he is of an age where he has got to learn his own sense of responsibility.
If he fails a class, he reaps the consequences.

Letting go.
There is this weird, uncomfortable void with letting go.
We equate love with hanging on.

If his first inclination, his honest response, is go to to his counseling session dressed like a homeless person, so be it.

I agree. Totally. Though it is difficult to see, or comprehend.
But, don't you want the counselor to see him the way he sees himself?
That's my spin on it.
Is he expressing his individuality, depressed, doesn’t care about his appearance, is he trying to push your buttons?
Get a reaction?

Or is there just no reason or rhyme to it?

My Rain, homeless. You would not know it.
Somehow, she is presentable.
How does that happen?

No reason or rhyme.

She and her boyfriend collect cans, recycle, dumpster dive at the university. She says when the kids move out of the dorms they throw all kinds of good stuff away.
They get roused from the park by police, everything thrown away.
When she shares this, it is like you or I, complaining about a hard day at work.

What in the world am I supposed to do with that information?

I think to myself, "Geez, that seems like a lot of work to survive like this. Why couldn't they just.......work? Get a decent place to live?"

while i get the concept , faith, i can only feel my way. with training wheels. like old fashioned litte girl roller skates.

i lived on a steep hill with city-stucco faced houses side by side. i would creep down the hill with those skates, my little hands scraping the stucco to not lurch forward.

I wouldn't even put the skates on, Copa.
You don't give yourself enough credit.

that image is the closest i can come to faith. which to me can only be felt thus far as courage. nothing at all resembling where i need to go.

You are courageous. That takes faith. Knowing you have a ways to go is understanding. That is faith.
You are like the lion in the Wizard of Oz. Thinking you are cowardly, when it is within you all along.
We are all lacking in some ways, all of us.
I know that one of my major motivators for change, letting go of my two, is the responsibility I have for my son. What will I do when he comes of age, and that reason is no longer there?
I don't know.
I hope I will have built my toolbox up enough to withstand whatever comes along.
I recognize that he is a sort of crutch for me. That I lean upon that responsibility to move me to protect the sanctity and peace of my home.
I don't know if I would have done it for myself.
There is a lacking there, that I have to fix.

i wish you guys were my neighbors.

i have a real love for you. and deep gratitude.

Me too, Copa. I am grateful for the time spent sharing, and processing all of this.
I could not do this on my own.
I wonder, if I were in your shoes, how it would be.
More difficult I think. I have my kids who are doing well.
There is much to that to help me shift focus.
You do not give yourself enough credit.

i need to get a grip. or a job to occupy my time.

UGH. A job. Why not a hobby? Something you can enjoy? Here, we have recreation centers at the parks, and they have all sorts of programs. I am so looking forward to retirement, to be able to do things that I want to do. I am grateful for my job, but it is a job.
You are on the right track.
Shift your focus.
To you.
My friend said to me "What are you going to do, if you retire?"
Her job is also her social life.
I am like, "What wouldn't I do?"
Garden.
Join classes. Paint, draw, sculpt.
Walk.
That's it Copa, find something that fills you.

In writing that, I am seeing that the empty void I have felt over my two, is in my own self.
Yikes.

(((HUGS)))
Leafy

 

[New Leaf]

Is that because addicts like hoods? I don't know. They used to be for warmth but now they are some type of symbol that project a creepy persona.

Yup, hoodies here, are an addicts wardrobe. Hoodies, baseball caps, sunglasses (even at night) and bikes.
It is like a uniform.
Someone told me it is because sunlight, light bothers their eyes.
It seems a way to disappear.
To remain anonymous?

of course i see i am a nut job. i worry that the police will stereotype him too.

I don't think you are a nut job. I am recalling one of the excuses for shooting a young, unarmed African American, was that he was wearing a hoody.
Gulp.
Sorry.
Don't want to add reason to your worries.
They are a valid concern in this respect.

Ouch.

 

[so ready to live]

Copa- I once read that: Faith is not the supposition that something is true but the fact that someone is there...
G-d if that is your higher power and certainly all of us-we are here with you each day in this neighborhood.
Big hugs today.

 

[Lil]

my son wears a hoody. he inspires fear and rejection by others.

example: he went with me to costco last week. i asked the returns desk supervisor if my son bearing my card could do the returns while i did the thanksgiving shopping. she said of course. until i pointed him out.

out loud she said: he looks scary. it's better if you stay with him.

of course i see i am a nut job. i worry that the police will stereotype him too.

Somebody needs some serious customer service training! To tell a customer that their son looks "scary"? OMG! I don't care if he's dressed like the grim reaper!

I see young men walking around every day with hoodies with the hood up. Unless it's hot out, I don't usually think they're up to no good.

I just...I really don't know what to say to that.

 

[New Leaf]

Somebody needs some serious customer service training! To tell a customer that their son looks "scary"? OMG! I don't care if he's dressed like the grim reaper!

I agree. Totally. How awful for you Copa. I am sorry if my post offended.
But, I think there is a whole lot of fear in the world.
Not trying to excuse the rudeness and inappropriate reaction.
People are afraid with all of the news reports.
The times we are living in, are hard.
sigh.

 

[Kalahou]

In my opinion, you don't need to have your hand in this, in any way. No advice, no expectations. Just let go, and let him go. This is his journey. If his first inclination, his honest response, is go to to his counseling session dressed like a homeless person, so be it.

I agree with Albie.
Copa, you have too much involvement, too much at stake - for yourself - in this. You appear to only want to accept what YOU want - you don't want to accept who your son is. He no doubt feels this and knows he will never please your expectations and never measure up to your standards, because that is not who he is.

Copa, who your son is, and the person he will be --- is not about you and not about what you want for yourself. Do not look for your own worth and your own value in your son. It looks like you unjustly put too much responsibility on J to make him responsible for the value / the worth you want to find in your own life. He feels the guilt of this failure (your feeling of failure?) in himself, ~ a failure that he will never be who you want him to be and a failure that he won't make you happy.

We all are coming to realize that it is not our Difficult Child's purpose in life to make us happy. Our job as parents was to raise them up to adults, which we have done. Now their lives (at J's age) are theirs to live and learn and accomplish their own purpose, as they can and will, according to who they are themselves. We still love, but we must detach and "let it be / let them go".

A comment regarding your dismay with appearances:

Yup, hoodies here, are an addicts wardrobe. Hoodies, baseball caps, sunglasses (even at night) and bikes....It is like a uniform.

My son (a decade older than yours) right now is mostly / barely holding his own, away from me. I see this as some progress - at least it is not worse. But he still wears the "uniform" Leafy described - he wears a hoody a lot, wears a baseball cap, wears wrinkled shirts and smelly shoes, unbrushed teeth when I see him. He rides a bike - has no license. (none of this is how I wish to present myself.) But son is sober, is staying out of jail, and on occasion he actually smiles! (rarely see that). If that smile means he may be enjoying his life, if even for a moment in time ~ What a victory ~ if even for a moment! Mahalo!

Copa, I don't mean to sound harsh in what I said. I am learning this also, and learning to accept it all myself, so it is part of what I have come to understand. We are not alone in this. It is hard to let go, to lose a part of ourselves, to lose that part of your identity that is bound up with your son.
But it is the only way to move forward yourself, and to release J to the freedom he needs and wants and must have for himself. -- In my opinion, let him be. I think he is showing he is at a point where he wants it for himself, but he needs to walk the lonesome highway on his own, and needs your OK and approval and freedom to do it his way.

Take care. Bless. I am following along.

 

[Lil]

Copa, who your son is, and the person he will be --- is not about you and not about what you want for yourself. Do not look for your own worth and your own value in your son. You unjustly put too much responsibility on J to make him responsible for the value the worth you want to find in your own life. He feels the guilt of this failure (your feeling of failure?) himself, ~ a failure that he will never be who you want him to be and a failure that he won't make you happy.

I really think Kalahou basically restated something Copa said about herself just a few posts ago...

i feel like an old gnarled tree that has been split down the middle. i am open to the elements. the bark that has protected me, peeled away. i feel completely undefended.

my son will never be so-called normal. he is a loving, inteligent, charming, gorgeous and kind soul. he has strengths. but he will almost certainly always be disorganized, quirky and vulnerable. i guess i am, too.

maybe that is part of the deep pain and fear.

he wonders why i am so angry, insistent and desperate.

i guess through this post i am recognizing that there is a fair amount of projection going on, on my part.

i cannot bear my own pain. my own vulnerability actually. he is doing quite well integrating his own.

there is a letting go on my part that is not happening.

It took me a long time to realize that when I would say, "I only want my son to be happy." - I was lying. I was lying to myself and to everyone else. What I really wanted was for my son to be happy living the way I wanted him to live; living a typical, "normal" life. I wanted him working, paying bills, wearing clean clothes and brushing his teeth and cutting his hair...or at least brushing it. He didn't have to be a doctor or a lawyer or an accountant. But I wanted him to be socially acceptable. I wanted to be, if not proud of him, at least not embarrassed by him.

It wasn't until I managed to, more or less, let go of those feelings that I found any semblance of peace. It's not easy. It's even harder when they are near.

 

[Littleboylost]

saw my daughter, I did.
It has been a long time.

I so firmly believe these little glimmers that we see our ACs also see in themselves. I do believe that this is what will eventually break the curse of addiction. I know I will never stop giving my son these glimmers.

Leafy This took me right to your heart like a twin my heart knows this feeling. I think all of our hearts know this feeling like no other parent can.

I am holding on to that one special moment in hopes that it is a tiny spark that will light a fire in Rain to understand her value and worth, her potential.

Yes! This is what it will be a spark that for some reason or another gets their attention and turns them around.

We become so conditioned to the same old, same old.

Oh how I look back and see the frightful truth in this statement. I am unconditioning as I detach. It will be the only thing that reduces my son if anything ever does.

I have to watch the movie again, it has been quite some time.

I am going to watch this again also. How inspiring a parallel this is!

That water pump scene where Anne over and over signed water onto Helens palm as the water

I so want that to be Joy for my son. Clean and sober Joy!

Copa and Leafy my heart and soul are in this battle with you, strength in knowing we are not alone.

Copa I do hope the rest of the week went well for your son!

 

[Littleboylost]

I see him. He rides a bike - has no license. (none of this is how I wish to present myself.) But son is sober, is staying out of jail, and on occasion he actually smiles! (rarely see that). If that smile means he may be enjoying his life, if even for a moment in time ~ What a victory ~ if even for a moment! Mahalo!

This uniform is so global. The distain I have for this look is palpable. I know until I resolve this distain that I am truly not detached from my son.

It took me a long time to realize that when I would say, "I only want my son to be happy." - I was lying. I was lying to myself and to everyone else. What I really wanted was for my son to be happy living the way I wanted him to live; living a typical, "normal" life. I wanted him working, paying bills, wearing clean clothes and brushing his teeth and cutting his hair...or at least brushing it. He

Man did this strike a chord, a little homework for me in this front is in order.

Wise words, support and friendship.

Just to be and accept and not show distain or judge my son. Tough stuff to do indeed.

 

[Albatross]

It took me a long time to realize that when I would say, "I only want my son to be happy." - I was lying. I was lying to myself and to everyone else. What I really wanted was for my son to be happy living the way I wanted him to live; living a typical, "normal" life. I wanted him working, paying bills, wearing clean clothes and brushing his teeth and cutting his hair...or at least brushing it. He didn't have to be a doctor or a lawyer or an accountant. But I wanted him to be socially acceptable. I wanted to be, if not proud of him, at least not embarrassed by him.

Yep, this is me. I wanted him to be happy, and *I* knew so much better than *him* what was needed to for *him* to be happy. I can think of so many times I sent a message, by words or body posture or just a pregnant pause, that he wasn't "being happy" the way I expected.

It's not pretty to see that in myself.

It's particularly not pretty when I consider all the years I've walked this earth and still don't have a clue half the time what makes ME happy!

 

[Albatross]

i asked the returns desk supervisor if my son bearing my card could do the returns while i did the thanksgiving shopping. she said of course. until i pointed him out.

out loud she said: he looks scary. it's better if you stay with him.

Wow. What a jerk she was.