Thanksgiving Day

I woke feeling sad this morning. I had intended to skip church to bake and cook this morning, but something drew me there. I am glad I went. I went from sorrow and tears to praise and joy. 
We went to my SIL's house for dinner. It was small and intimate. My other BIL has a large family and invited his other side to his house. MIL came with us. It was not so glaringly obvious that there were two empty chairs. One by death, one by choice. My daughter went to her BF for the day.

It was a wonderful time spent with three family units, catching up without all the chaos of a large group.I talked more with my niece today than I have ever in her life, I believe. It was great. 

My parents are happily in Florida. Didn't even hear from them today.  

I am thankful that God, for this day, took my mourning and turned it into dancing. I am praying that God will heal my broken heart. He makes all things new...

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  I am reminding myself to be thankful in spite of my pain and grief. I have a beautiful daughter. I have two precious grandkiddos. I have a husband who loves and provides for me. I have an Abba Father who understands my pain because He was rejected by his first kids and His Son was rejected by many.

I have a home. My husband's job is secure. We have transportation. So many things I take for granted until I remember that I am the exception among women in most countries. 

I may sing and worship freely. I can let my voice soar in praise, confession, worship, adoration. 

You know, I haven't really grieved over my Father in law. I wonder when that is going to hit me in the scheme of things. I need to share with my therapist, (who insurance is finally paying so I can go back!) Seeing my mother in law without him is just surreal. I don't feel sad. I don't know what is wrong with me, unless the pain I feel over my son is overwhelming the grief I "should" be feeling for my fil.

I wonder what scam my son is pulling on his gf's family. I know they think he's the best thing ever. Wait until things come up missing. Or maybe he is too smart for that. He's got it easy, no one is challenging him. They are believing he is who he presents himself to be. 

I am so sad lately about the son I should have had. Not the son who has dumped me, my husband, my daughter and worst of all the grandkiddos. 
I am sad about that I never did have what I thought I had. 

I am trying to get my brain around the reality that I was living with a scheming manipulative person who only thought of himself, basically has no conscience or remorse for anything. How hard I worked with him. How much I poured into him. All the therapists, all the school meetings all for naught. 

My first clue was that he stopped speaking to me after I told him he had to get his own car insurance. The reality had dawned slowly, but now is out and in my face. And it hurts. A lot. My second clue was having him leave owing his cousin three months rent and them my bil several months rent.

It is going to take awhile to grieve, to become strong enough to see him without allowing him to read my emotions and take advantage of me. If he even cares to see me, that is. 

At times I believe it would be easier if he had died...because he is as lost to me as he would be if death took him. 

However, God is good. His mercies are new every morning. His plan for me is hope. I can rest in that. God will never change, never reject me, never forsake me.  And he will bring justice to my son. 

ThanksChristmas

Today  we had our annual Thanks/Christmas. Mom and Dad leave for Florida for the winter tomorrow, so we have our Thanksgiving and Christmas get together early.

This year I felt like crying the whole time. My sister didn't plan well, so my daughter and the kids couldn't be there. My son could care less about his family and was noticeably absent. Conspicuously absent. No one talked about him , asked about him, remarked about him. It is his birthday today as well. The Pain I feel is great. Twenty six years ago at this time I was getting ready for a c-section and greatly anticipating his birth. Now I feel only emptiness where a son should be.

I am trying to come to terms with the knowledge that my son has never loved me, that he is not capable of loving. It hurts so much it takes my breath away. All the hugs, all the protectiveness, all the words. Spoken falsely. At what point did this personality disorder begin? At what point did the infant I nursed and snuggled with become the manipulative child/adolescent/adult? Why did God give me a child like this? I am coming to terms with the realization that all the "attachment" was false. I am broken hearted.

He was supposed to go out with his dad last night. He backed out. I'm sad to say I'm not surprised. 

My husband is really hurting. Quietly, but hurting nonetheless.  

I am grieving the child I thought I had. The son that appeared to be so devoted. The son who seemed to love his niece and nephew so much--until one day he cast them off like discarded toys; they were heartbroken. I am grieving all the time and energy I poured into his life that was pointless. I am wondering why. Why is he so broken? At times I feel like most of my life with him was wasted. There is and was no way that he could have been raised well. To know that really he hasn't even rejected us--that would be a feeling--is equally painful. With rejection there is hope of reconciliation. With a personality disorder there is no human hope. 

God would have to rewire his brain. That would be a miracle. 

How then, do I go on? I have gone from having two children to having what in essence is an only child. She is hurting, but her hurt comes out as anger and hate.  My porcupine child. 

It is going to take God Strength to get me through.... 

When will the pain ever end?

Just when I think that I can't be hurt anymore, a new wave of pain comes along to show me differently. I'm battling, and I say battling deliberately, a deep, dark, and frightening depression. As bad as the episode that led to diagnosis and mediation 15 years ago. 

It's like being stuck on the edge of a black hole; fighting to stay out of the void but feeling the pull to just give up.

There are several reasons for this episode. It's been a long rough year. In January my FIL was diagnosed as terminal. In February I found out that my son has ruined my daughter's reputation and cost her several friends. 

March. Dad comes home with Hospice care, very ill. We didn't think he would last until Easter. Thanks to Hospice he rallied and had a good summer. He died in August. One month later my MIL went into the hospital for what was to be a simple operation and was there for three weeks. She is still very weak, but recovering.

At some point my brain couldn't keep up and depression struck. That was a month ago. I have new medication, which is beginning to help, but some of this is grieving over my son and my FIL.  Mostly my son.

I don't think he will ever come back. I can't have him "back". I have been researching his behavior patterns and came across the NIHM's criteria for sociopathic personality.  He fits every criteria. In some ways it is a relief. To know that no matter what I did, he is not capable of feeling guilt, shame or anything of the sort. It makes a lot of sense. I have always maintained that he was born without a conscience. Guess I was right. Not something that I am particularly happy to be right about. 

I can't see him until I know that he can't get inside my head. He lies as easily as I breathe and in a heartbeat make me think I am crazy and don't know what I am talking about. 

I apologized to my daughter for all the times I didn't believe her when they had two different stories. I feel foolish for having defended him to teachers and others.

I didn't realize the depth of my pain until my son called and asked my husband and me to go out for dinner with him and his girlfriend. I became hysterical, hyperventilating and unable to breathe. I had all that pain tucked away in a box; that phone call blew up my box.

My sister invited him to Thanksgiving knowing what he has done to our family. I feel completely betrayed.I feel like my feelings don't count and all this is being swept under the rug so they can see my oh-so-charming son. Thanks. A bunch. My family is soooo good at playing the denial game. If we pretend it doesn't exist then it must not and every thing is FINE.

Thank God for my husband and daughter who have been taking care of me these last several weeks. 

God, I hurt.

What next?

My son is an alcoholic. He told me when he made an appearance right before his grandpa died. He hung around for the funeral and we haven't seen him or heard from him since then. I don't know what to think about that. I have a wonderful peace and detachment about the situation, which I can only say is from God.  I'm not especially angry, sad or anguished about it. Maybe my grief over my father in love's death is covering the feelings about my son. 

My other dad gave me lots of great father love that I didn't get when I was younger. My dad is a wonderful man, but when I was young his anxiety and depression were untreated; it manifested in rage.  My other dad was a daddy to me. I miss him and I will miss his teasing, his hugs, and kissing him on top of his little bald head. Even when he drove me crazy, I loved him! 

I will not miss seeing him suffer, watching him lose more and more independence with each passing day.  He hung in there so long until he knew Mom was ready to let him go. He was a great man in my eyes. He may have only had an 8th grade education and he worked with his back and his hands all his life, but he was a GREAT man. He wasn't perfect. But I know that in spite of that imperfection he loved his family and friends deeply. He modeled Jesus Christ in his life to everyone he came into contact with. My sister said that earth's loss is heaven's gain, and she couldn't have said it better. I am so grateful that he is now in glory in the presence of Christ.

Good bye for now, Dad. See you again,

I Am A Woman Of Worth

I am tired today. It's been a long, difficult week. I'm glad that I am seeing a counselor; that will help me sort myself out.

I am continuing to do the fun things in my life. My knitting girls are my lifeline. I look forward to Wednesday nights. They give me a chance to be me, fun, happy, creative. I'm glad that I have a creative bent. I express myself in my art, be it knitting, gardening, quilting. I express myself in the colors and patterns I choose. I'm proud when I conquer a difficult stitch combination.

My good friend gave me some wise advise. Take some time each day to think and grieve, and then choose to think about and do other things. Don't become consumed by mourning. Feel my feelings and don't deny them, but take charge of them and redirect them.

So I am giving that a good effort. I play Farmville, which just makes me happy. It's a silly little game, but it makes me smile. It's a wonderful diversion.  I knit every day. I snuggle my grandchildren every day. I refuse anxiety. I refuse fear. I refuse to think of all the what ifs. I am choosing strength. Do I always succeed? Nope. But I will pick myself up, dust myself off and continue.

I am a valuable person. Having an estranged son does not diminish my worth. It does not mean I was a bad parent.

I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. I may set boundaries that are as stringent as I need.

I am a woman of incredible worth.

Grief

I wonder if the father of the prodigal in the Bible grieved while his son was  away and wandering. Did he weep, wondering where his boy was, whether he was dead or alive. We know that he kept watch for him, hoping to see him again. I know it's a parable, we aren't given that answer. 

I am grieving. Hard.  I feel rejected. I feel thrown away. 

I was a great mom and it wasn't enough...