As I struggle emotionally to keep on keeping on, to show a happy face in spite of such unrelenting grief, working through That Which I Don't Blog About, and other challenges brought on by people's control issues that stifle and suffocate me, the ugliness that is so often spilled out upon me by grown children who only find their lives worse off without this mean old bI&^% to boss them around - Yolie tried to help me get a grip last night, explaining to this simpleton (me) that broken children have broken areas that remain broken, that are likely unrepairable.
Therapy, medications, psychiatric hospitalizations, church attendance, love and education will never reach those dark places.
I have to re-frame my perceptions and expectations, to not be enmeshed in their chaos, confusion, negativity and extreme drama. I prefer sanity that they confuse with stodginess. Allow me to be boring please. And ALONE in it. Don't call me, email me, text me nor include me in negativity.
I don't expect gratitude, I've even lost any last shred of hope of decent behavior, but to still act out horribly with me as one's target is so unacceptable on every level. I'm growing a stone cold wall around my heart that is not a pretty sight, but to not do so risks even my physical health.
My grown children attract some extremely marginal folks as well, other humans with raging issues written all over their faces, visible diagnoses or criminal records.
Another reason for a locked gate, as I recall a boyfriend of one child long ago stealing my distributor cap off my Honda. Just because.
If you have issues with me, if you think I'm your problem why don't you step back and notice that I'm having nothing to do with you. You already had problems that you took out on others. What gives people the right to be rude to other folks? Take it somewhere else, I'm not interested.
I slam my gate shut, figuratively and literally, and desire only to not ever interact with disturbed people... (other than those who share my last name that they've sprawled all over the police reports). I'm not YOUR mother and I sure as heck don't wanna be.
Any good Christian should, or would turn the other cheek. The best thing I can say here is that I'm not even saying what I really think.
I cried and cried last night to Yolie, tears spilling and smearing - so exhausted from the extreme amount of negativity that folks think is OK to dump on me (or Sarah who is resented as well simply for being The Birth Child). Heck, Yolie gets resented for working through childhood issues, for turning out so well. How fair is that? Folks jealous that she made good choices that resulted in a good life.
I cried in front of my children - something I rarely do. Everyone thinks I have no feelings, that they can lash out at me and that I'll just take it. It has chiseled my soul down to a nub. Why do people confuse outer strength with no internal feelings?
By dark, within an hour, two more issues reared their heads - as if to amp up other stuff, not allow me to struggle so visibly. One issue in Spanish, we sent the other kids out of the room, Jack telling me, "I can stay, I don't even speak Spanish," at least making me laugh for a second.
The next one involved a non-amp. Nothing that even involved me in any way shape or form, other than a grown child of mine who was helping a loved one, but it still took my time and attention, as every drama in ten counties seems to find it's way through my kitchen, living room or family room. It involved someone not even in our family acting out upon someone who is legally attached to our family. Someone who just got out of jail taking it out on someone who was doing the right thing.
As usual, I'm hung up on the unfairness of a situation.
I just want to dig in the dirt.
Dee's written an awesome article. Please click here and go read it as I borrow a sentence or so :"Just because you take a child from the orphanage and improve his standard of living, it doesn’t mean the child can magically transform himself into a facsimile of an American child who has been loved and nurtured since birth. All the adopted child has ever known is uncertainty. All the adults in their life have always been untrustworthy. They have learned to never trust adults."
I now have severe emotional trust issues. I'm traumatized beyond belief, I fight huge resentments and several other non-Christian challenges. A sense of hopelessness prevails at times - why did I do this if my children just turn out to be hateful, mean or criminals?
I did it because God told me to do it. To pour out my love, my attention, and my life while knowing that no one promised, or ever led me to believe, there'd be any rewards other than God eventually telling me, "Well done my good and faithful servant," which will then be truly all I've needed. Duh, Cindy.
But there have been some immediate rewards. And I need to focus on that, I need to make myself get better.