It's very difficult not knowing what's happening with my adult child, where he is, what he's doing, whether he is safe or getting help or destroying someone else's life.
I have been in a deep depression the past several days, trying desparately to rid myself of this need to be his mother. He does not want me. He violently does not want me. It shreds my soul to know this. I don't know if I can actually ever let go.
"Hee-nay-nee" - I am here.
"Teeferret" is the balance of loving-kindness and the strength of boundaries. How do I have both compassion for him and compassion for myself? How do I decide where to place the boundaries in how much I allow his crazy into my life? Is there any way to be there for an adult child who so desparately wants me NOT in his life? Who honestly desparately wants me to be not in any life at all, not even my own.
From Rabbi Brielle's Psalms..."I will not say anything to myself in private that would tear down a friend if said in public.... Choose a path true to ones own self.... Reject self-hatred."
Reject self-hatred.
Reject self-hatred.
How is that possible? When I have so clearly failed as a mother. When my one true planned purpose has not been met with success. With anything but success.
"Emerging from the fire, I recalibrate my path."
I need to recalibrate my path away from trying to control what I have no way to even comprehend. The fire he stokes with every word and every breath never leaves my being. I am burning with tears that encourage his flames to burn higher and stronger throughout my soul.
"Own who you are in an honest and integrated way that expresses your beauty."
How can I find and express inner-beauty when all I can do with every drop of my everything is to try not to die?
"Teeferret" -the balance of loving-kindness and boundaries. He will neither accept nor give love. All that's left is boundaries, all he knows from me is boundaries, that is not what being a mother is all about, but it's all I get. It's not fair. I want so much more.
I remember when he was little. Yes, he screamed a lot. He slept very little. He tantrummed for hours at a time. But every now and then, here and there, occassionally, he would love me and he would allow me to love him. I miss that sometimes child who let me be a mother and not just a jailer. The child, who, expelled from yet another preschool or kindergarten is attending college classes with me, listening enraptured to the Chair of the Physics Department, illustrating his explanations of rocket mechanics with your markers, getting up on the auditorium stage, explaining with your pictures to the hundreds of freshmen exactly what they didn't seem able to understand.
"A life established seemingly in opposition to itself."
So much potential. Why couldn't I reach it in you? Why couldn't I help you reach it in yourself? Why did you run from me or at me, and so rarely into my arms?
Why can't you just let me love you as every mother wants to love her child? I just want to love my child.
Thursday, May 9, 2024
Thursday, May 2, 2024
Psalm 89
Another night learning from the Psalms. It seems the Rabbi leading the class is also a Psy D- makes much more sense as to how her words touch my soul. She writes her translations in such a way that we don't necessarily feel that we are wandering blindly through our nightmarish troubles.
It is faith crushing that God allows so much chaos and pain and destruction into our lives. But perhaps he has not left us there in the dark. Perhaps he is walking with us, guiding us through the depths of despair. Perhaps there is help, and perhaps there is hope. Not that the core problem will go away.
But that we don't have to go through it all alone.
It is faith crushing that God allows so much chaos and pain and destruction into our lives. But perhaps he has not left us there in the dark. Perhaps he is walking with us, guiding us through the depths of despair. Perhaps there is help, and perhaps there is hope. Not that the core problem will go away.
But that we don't have to go through it all alone.
Tuesday, April 30, 2024
Consequences of Closing an Open Adoption
I gave my son up for adoption and I want him back. His parents don't want him to stay in contact with me. Do I have the right to be in his life when he wants me to? (Question first answered by me on Quora)
When you give up a child for adoption, the adoptive parents become his legal parents forever. They get to choose who he is in contact with, who he phones and writes to, who he lives with, who he visits with, until he’s 18. At that point the child is an adult and can choose for himself who to have in his life.
That being said, it is almost always in the child’s best interest to have their birth family in their lives to some degree. My older child was adopted at birth in an open adoption. We had planned to have his birth family involved in his life regularly for all of his years. Sadly, it didn’t work out that way.
His birth mother was struggling with mental health issues and not taking meds. She was making wild accusations against me which was seriously messing with my self-esteem. I was having a hard enough time as it was trying to parent a child who never slept, constantly screamed, and kept getting expelled from preschools.
In my state of chronic sleep deprivation and absolute frustration combined with defensiveness from being constantly attacked, I made a decision that permanently, negatively, effected our lives. I told his birth mother that she had to start going to therapy and get back on her meds before she had contact with our child again.
She reacted by getting even more crazy with her accusations. I can see now how devastating it must have been for her to be told she was too unwell to be allowed contact with the child she’d entrusted to my care. I should have found a better way to handle the situation. I have no clue what it is I should have done, but locking her out of our lives was most definitely the wrong answer. I didn’t see that, though, until he was completely gone from my life.
When he was 15, my son ran away from home, got on a bus and headed out of state to be with her, his birth mom. It did not go well for them. She did not have the skills to handle such a seriously psychiatrically unstable young man. Of course, it must be said, neither did I.
Looking back, I wish I’d been more accepting of his birth mother. Maybe, together, we could have found a way to better parent this very difficult child. I messed up big time in throwing her to the curb, and it’s something I can never take back. I can only hope that someday they can both forgive me for this awful mistake.
When you give up a child for adoption, the adoptive parents become his legal parents forever. They get to choose who he is in contact with, who he phones and writes to, who he lives with, who he visits with, until he’s 18. At that point the child is an adult and can choose for himself who to have in his life.
That being said, it is almost always in the child’s best interest to have their birth family in their lives to some degree. My older child was adopted at birth in an open adoption. We had planned to have his birth family involved in his life regularly for all of his years. Sadly, it didn’t work out that way.
His birth mother was struggling with mental health issues and not taking meds. She was making wild accusations against me which was seriously messing with my self-esteem. I was having a hard enough time as it was trying to parent a child who never slept, constantly screamed, and kept getting expelled from preschools.
In my state of chronic sleep deprivation and absolute frustration combined with defensiveness from being constantly attacked, I made a decision that permanently, negatively, effected our lives. I told his birth mother that she had to start going to therapy and get back on her meds before she had contact with our child again.
She reacted by getting even more crazy with her accusations. I can see now how devastating it must have been for her to be told she was too unwell to be allowed contact with the child she’d entrusted to my care. I should have found a better way to handle the situation. I have no clue what it is I should have done, but locking her out of our lives was most definitely the wrong answer. I didn’t see that, though, until he was completely gone from my life.
When he was 15, my son ran away from home, got on a bus and headed out of state to be with her, his birth mom. It did not go well for them. She did not have the skills to handle such a seriously psychiatrically unstable young man. Of course, it must be said, neither did I.
Looking back, I wish I’d been more accepting of his birth mother. Maybe, together, we could have found a way to better parent this very difficult child. I messed up big time in throwing her to the curb, and it’s something I can never take back. I can only hope that someday they can both forgive me for this awful mistake.
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Psalm 31
I took a class tonight, learning about Psalm 31. It was not at all what I expected. As I listened to the words, and the translations, and the teaching and the explanations, I felt a little bit of the heaviness in my heart start to lift away. I made a commitment tonight to try to love and forgive myself. I did everything I could possibly do and I did it all with every bit of love and caring that I had inside of me. I deserve love and forgiveness. I deserve to stop beating myself up for not being good enough.
"I seek refuge in You, Shekhinah; may I never be disappointed; as You are righteous, rescue me. Incline Your ear to me; be quick to save me; be a rock, a stronghold for me, a citadel, for my deliverance. For You are my rock and my fortress; You lead me and guide me as befits Your name. You free me from the net laid for me, for You are my stronghold. Into Your hand I entrust my spirit; You redeem me, Shekhinah...
"...I trust in Shekhinah. Let me exult and rejoice in Your faithfulness when You notice my affliction, are mindful of my deep distress, and do not hand me over to my enemy, but grant me relief. Have mercy on me, O Shekhinah, for I am in distress; my eyes are wasted by vexation, my substance and body too. My life is spent in sorrow, my years in groaning; my strength fails because of my iniquity, my limbs waste away.
"Show favor to Your servant; as You are faithful, deliver me. O LORD, let me not be disappointed when I call You; ... How abundant is the good that You have in store ... for those who take refuge in You. You grant them the protection of Your presence... You shelter them in Your pavilion... Blessed is Shekhinah, for you have been wondrously faithful to me, a veritable bastion. Alarmed, I had thought, “I am thrust out of Your sight”; yet You listened to my plea for mercy when I cried out to You. So love Shekhinah, all you faithful; Shekhinah guards the loyal, and more than requites him who acts arrogantly. Be strong and of good courage, all you who wait for Shekhinah."'
"I seek refuge in You, Shekhinah; may I never be disappointed; as You are righteous, rescue me. Incline Your ear to me; be quick to save me; be a rock, a stronghold for me, a citadel, for my deliverance. For You are my rock and my fortress; You lead me and guide me as befits Your name. You free me from the net laid for me, for You are my stronghold. Into Your hand I entrust my spirit; You redeem me, Shekhinah...
"...I trust in Shekhinah. Let me exult and rejoice in Your faithfulness when You notice my affliction, are mindful of my deep distress, and do not hand me over to my enemy, but grant me relief. Have mercy on me, O Shekhinah, for I am in distress; my eyes are wasted by vexation, my substance and body too. My life is spent in sorrow, my years in groaning; my strength fails because of my iniquity, my limbs waste away.
"Show favor to Your servant; as You are faithful, deliver me. O LORD, let me not be disappointed when I call You; ... How abundant is the good that You have in store ... for those who take refuge in You. You grant them the protection of Your presence... You shelter them in Your pavilion... Blessed is Shekhinah, for you have been wondrously faithful to me, a veritable bastion. Alarmed, I had thought, “I am thrust out of Your sight”; yet You listened to my plea for mercy when I cried out to You. So love Shekhinah, all you faithful; Shekhinah guards the loyal, and more than requites him who acts arrogantly. Be strong and of good courage, all you who wait for Shekhinah."'
Sunday, April 21, 2024
July 12, 2014 Sarah to Michael
On Saturday, July 12, 2014 9:47 PM, Sarah wrote:
Dear Michael,
I have already made it clear to you that I am sorry I was not as good a mother as I should have been. And I cannot apologize to you for things I have not done. Sadly, sweetheart, you were the one who has been delusional, not me, hon. You have been diagnosed by many many psychiatrists and psychologists as having various psychotic disorders. They have almost all said that there was hope for you to get better, but only if you made the choice to get the help offered. I tried over and over to get you that help. You promised me over and over that you would accept that help, but you continue to run away from it.
Joey was taken from me for a few weeks this summer because I did not protect him from his father and from you. The judge gave him back to me as soon as he heard the case. I promised to get help to be able to be more protective of my children, and I have gotten that help. I have been in an intensive therapy program that has taught me to be more protective of Joey and of myself. It has also taught me to understand you and the dynamics between the two of us a lot better.
You needed help from a very young age that I was not yet able to give you. I tried everything I could think of but it wasn't enough. I understand that you cannot see what went on between us objectively. If you want to try to talk it through, I would be happy to do so, so long as you can stay calm and respectful. One of the many promises you have made to me but not yet kept, was that we could be in family therapy. I am still willing to do this.
I have had to make a lot of difficult decisions about my responsibilities towards you. One of the most difficult of these decisions was the choice to allow you to stay with your birth mother, in her home, and not in an inpatient facility back here. I made this choice because I'm hoping as an almost-adult you'll make the choice to get yourself the help you need. I cannot control your choices, your feelings, or your behaviors. I can only control my reactions to them.
I will always love you, Michael. I hope you can hear this letter with the love and caring that are meant to be its intent.
Love always,
Mom
Dear Michael,
I have already made it clear to you that I am sorry I was not as good a mother as I should have been. And I cannot apologize to you for things I have not done. Sadly, sweetheart, you were the one who has been delusional, not me, hon. You have been diagnosed by many many psychiatrists and psychologists as having various psychotic disorders. They have almost all said that there was hope for you to get better, but only if you made the choice to get the help offered. I tried over and over to get you that help. You promised me over and over that you would accept that help, but you continue to run away from it.
Joey was taken from me for a few weeks this summer because I did not protect him from his father and from you. The judge gave him back to me as soon as he heard the case. I promised to get help to be able to be more protective of my children, and I have gotten that help. I have been in an intensive therapy program that has taught me to be more protective of Joey and of myself. It has also taught me to understand you and the dynamics between the two of us a lot better.
You needed help from a very young age that I was not yet able to give you. I tried everything I could think of but it wasn't enough. I understand that you cannot see what went on between us objectively. If you want to try to talk it through, I would be happy to do so, so long as you can stay calm and respectful. One of the many promises you have made to me but not yet kept, was that we could be in family therapy. I am still willing to do this.
I have had to make a lot of difficult decisions about my responsibilities towards you. One of the most difficult of these decisions was the choice to allow you to stay with your birth mother, in her home, and not in an inpatient facility back here. I made this choice because I'm hoping as an almost-adult you'll make the choice to get yourself the help you need. I cannot control your choices, your feelings, or your behaviors. I can only control my reactions to them.
I will always love you, Michael. I hope you can hear this letter with the love and caring that are meant to be its intent.
Love always,
Mom
Friday, April 19, 2024
April 19, 2024 Update, 15 years later
My Rachel goes by Michael now. The gender story is for another day. Michael made it out of the facility he was living in when last I wrote and made it up to Boston to live with his birthmother. She tried. She really did. He wanted money so he shot up a store, got one guy in the back. He went to jail, then longterm in an adult psychiatric lockdown, then halfway house after halfway house, getting kicked out of one after another. Then hotel after hotel, getting kicked out of one after another. He's still refusing to take meds. I don't have any idea how to help him. At this point I just have to try to keep myself safe.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The system doesn't work
My Rachel tried to stab someone to death last night. The shift coordinator called to let me know. No big deal because no one was actually physically harmed, right? They still want to discharge her and don't understand why I won't bring her home.
We had a big, very loud meeting on Wednesday. They say she's made so much progress. And she definitely has. She no loinger tries to strangle people when they try to brush her hair. She's more likely to calmly state when she's thinking and feeling, even though those thoughts and feelings are her conviction that she can create false documents to enable her to run away to Japan and start a new life on her own, or that she'd be happy to come back home as long as I follow her rules, and allow her to run her and our lives as she sees fit, because she knows better than we do.
The therapists, administration, and insurance company all agree that if I won't bring her home, she is ready to be moved into a therapeutic foster home- a family trained to care for kids with behavioral problems. I fought with them until they started screaming at me that I wasn't in this for Natalie's best interests but because of my own issues, that I was obviously not in my right mind nad needed more intensive therapy than what I was getting. At that point I left the meeting, because I ust couldn't take it any more.
My Rachel tried to kill somebody tonight. She was angry at him, so she grabbed a pair of scissors and tried to stab him to death. But our mental health system insists she's ready for a step-down in care. It all comes down to money, doesn't it? They don't want to pay the exhorbitant price of the care this child needs. So they're going to let her loose on society, my homicidal delusional 12 year old. And while I hope with all my heart that I'm wrong, someday, I truly believe, she'll be a killer or she'll be dead.
Sarah
We had a big, very loud meeting on Wednesday. They say she's made so much progress. And she definitely has. She no loinger tries to strangle people when they try to brush her hair. She's more likely to calmly state when she's thinking and feeling, even though those thoughts and feelings are her conviction that she can create false documents to enable her to run away to Japan and start a new life on her own, or that she'd be happy to come back home as long as I follow her rules, and allow her to run her and our lives as she sees fit, because she knows better than we do.
The therapists, administration, and insurance company all agree that if I won't bring her home, she is ready to be moved into a therapeutic foster home- a family trained to care for kids with behavioral problems. I fought with them until they started screaming at me that I wasn't in this for Natalie's best interests but because of my own issues, that I was obviously not in my right mind nad needed more intensive therapy than what I was getting. At that point I left the meeting, because I ust couldn't take it any more.
My Rachel tried to kill somebody tonight. She was angry at him, so she grabbed a pair of scissors and tried to stab him to death. But our mental health system insists she's ready for a step-down in care. It all comes down to money, doesn't it? They don't want to pay the exhorbitant price of the care this child needs. So they're going to let her loose on society, my homicidal delusional 12 year old. And while I hope with all my heart that I'm wrong, someday, I truly believe, she'll be a killer or she'll be dead.
Sarah
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