Forums
New posts
Search forums
What's new
New posts
New profile posts
Latest activity
Internet Search
Members
Current visitors
New profile posts
Search profile posts
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
New posts
Search forums
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Forums
Parent Support Forums
Parent Emeritus
What's happening to me in detachment...
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Childofmine" data-source="post: 622600" data-attributes="member: 17542"><p>Here is my issue with honesty and where I have gotten twisted up in truth-talking in the past: </p><p></p><p>He has a brain disease, a mental illness, called addiction. He can't help that. The disease itself is characterized by so many negative traits, including denial. My being mad at him because he has the disease and all that comes with it would be mean. </p><p></p><p>Watching him and listening to him---use, steal, get fired, go to jail, be homeless, be high, rationalize, defend, lie about, blame, live into---that disease is part of the disease process but it is infuriating to be a part of and a witness to, for me. I am cycling through the stages of grief over and over again, faster and faster as time goes on: denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. </p><p></p><p>I want to shake him into next year to shake some sense into him. Of course, that wouldn't work. </p><p></p><p>It seems so clear: You have a problem and you will die if you don't get help to stop it. But it's not, to him. </p><p></p><p>Oh, I spent a lot of time and energy up against that brick wall. Didn't work. </p><p></p><p>So I'm speaking English and he's speaking Greek. We can't even talk to each other because he can't hear me and I can't stand to hear him. It's a total disconnect. Finally, I got sick and tired of being sick and tired of THAT. </p><p></p><p>So then, I say nothing but I still want to have a relationship (if you want to call it that) because I love him. So, I just push it all down and down and down. Resentment (anger, fear, despair, grief) that builds and builds. It's gonna blow! </p><p></p><p>That doesn't work, in time. I'm getting sicker and sicker. And there is no relationship anyway. I'm talking about what, the weather? I did that for a while, too. </p><p></p><p>I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired that I have to detach. I just can't do that surface stuff anymore, it's so surreal, so bizarre, while I am watching him self-destruct.</p><p></p><p>I have to have distance and space, detachment. I tell him don't call me except one day a week for 10 minutes and if you keep coming to my door and texting me relentlessly, I will get a restraining order. I finally tell him and I finally mean it. </p><p></p><p>And then I have distance and space. And in that distance and space my anger begins to dissipate. At least for now. It is replaced by a growing clearer-eyed acceptance of what is. That THIS may always be what is. Okay, at first that is not a good feeling at all, but okay, I start to try it on for size, and it doesn't absolutely kill me. </p><p></p><p>As I get start getting used to that as a possibility, I can start to let go even more. And then, now, slowly, I can start to really talk to him again. I am able to say things to him that I really mean and believe. Not everything. But some things.</p><p></p><p>That is where I am right now. And I'll tell you, it is not bad. In fact, I don't like any of the circumstances surrounding his situation right now (as far as I know) but me, I am really pretty good. Just for today. </p><p></p><p>I'm sure this feeling can be gone in a puff. I haven't heard from him since last Friday, this time. But I have seen the little green light by his name on FB a couple of times since Friday, and you know, that truly is enough for me.</p><p></p><p>I can't believe I am in this place, right now, but I am profoundly grateful for being here.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Childofmine, post: 622600, member: 17542"] Here is my issue with honesty and where I have gotten twisted up in truth-talking in the past: He has a brain disease, a mental illness, called addiction. He can't help that. The disease itself is characterized by so many negative traits, including denial. My being mad at him because he has the disease and all that comes with it would be mean. Watching him and listening to him---use, steal, get fired, go to jail, be homeless, be high, rationalize, defend, lie about, blame, live into---that disease is part of the disease process but it is infuriating to be a part of and a witness to, for me. I am cycling through the stages of grief over and over again, faster and faster as time goes on: denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. I want to shake him into next year to shake some sense into him. Of course, that wouldn't work. It seems so clear: You have a problem and you will die if you don't get help to stop it. But it's not, to him. Oh, I spent a lot of time and energy up against that brick wall. Didn't work. So I'm speaking English and he's speaking Greek. We can't even talk to each other because he can't hear me and I can't stand to hear him. It's a total disconnect. Finally, I got sick and tired of being sick and tired of THAT. So then, I say nothing but I still want to have a relationship (if you want to call it that) because I love him. So, I just push it all down and down and down. Resentment (anger, fear, despair, grief) that builds and builds. It's gonna blow! That doesn't work, in time. I'm getting sicker and sicker. And there is no relationship anyway. I'm talking about what, the weather? I did that for a while, too. I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired that I have to detach. I just can't do that surface stuff anymore, it's so surreal, so bizarre, while I am watching him self-destruct. I have to have distance and space, detachment. I tell him don't call me except one day a week for 10 minutes and if you keep coming to my door and texting me relentlessly, I will get a restraining order. I finally tell him and I finally mean it. And then I have distance and space. And in that distance and space my anger begins to dissipate. At least for now. It is replaced by a growing clearer-eyed acceptance of what is. That THIS may always be what is. Okay, at first that is not a good feeling at all, but okay, I start to try it on for size, and it doesn't absolutely kill me. As I get start getting used to that as a possibility, I can start to let go even more. And then, now, slowly, I can start to really talk to him again. I am able to say things to him that I really mean and believe. Not everything. But some things. That is where I am right now. And I'll tell you, it is not bad. In fact, I don't like any of the circumstances surrounding his situation right now (as far as I know) but me, I am really pretty good. Just for today. I'm sure this feeling can be gone in a puff. I haven't heard from him since last Friday, this time. But I have seen the little green light by his name on FB a couple of times since Friday, and you know, that truly is enough for me. I can't believe I am in this place, right now, but I am profoundly grateful for being here. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Forums
Parent Support Forums
Parent Emeritus
What's happening to me in detachment...
Top