Updated: Feb 13, 2019
Did you read my last blog? The one where I said:
“I’ve been mentally preparing myself for all of this for weeks. I have not been caught off guard by any of it which is good. It’s good because expecting it means I can focus on my heart.”
If not, you can read it here.
Yeah, so, apparently I wasn’t as mentally prepared as I thought. In the past three days I’ve discovered that over the summer, I stopped simply hoping that my son was really getting better with his behaviors and started believing it. Sounds like a great thing, right?
Except they all came back. All of them. At once. And I am so disappointed and angry that I’m sitting in my bedroom with the door closed because I can’t manage to say anything nice to him. While he appears to be a happy-go-lucky kid today, I’m trying not to boil over because he won’t take responsibility for himself, his actions over the past few days, or take care of the things he’s supposed do around the house.
I’m not blaming him. It’s not his fault that I’m reacting this way, and that’s why I’m keeping my distance today. I was blind-sighted, but I shouldn’t have been. I’m not angry AT him, I’m angry that we have to go through this again. I’m angry that once again, I’m having to work on things inside myself that I thought I’d overcome already. I’m angry that I let myself get out of the habit of praying for him regularly when things were going well. I’m angry that I’m sitting in here trying to manage myself instead of being able to help my saint of husband figure out how to help our child through this.
I know my words and actions have not communicated to my son that I don’t blame him and I will have to have that talk with him eventually, but right now, that feels like an overwhelming task. I know my husband is doing everything in his power to get our son to what he needs to do because he knows it will help me, while at the same time trying to figure out how to get our son to do what he needs to do without another blowup. He’s succeeding. And I hate that I’ve put him in the position of having to take on so much, again.
I’ve done a lot of praying in the last three days. Most of it not very effective praying, but I’m getting there. This morning I woke up with a reminder from the Holy Spirit that I have the strength to do this. All of it. I have the strength to help my husband. The strength to show my son love while he does everything in his power to push me away. I have the strength to deal with his school, his friends, and his doctors.
Most of this strength I don’t claim as my own. I’d say that’s pretty obvious based on my reactions over the past three days. Most of this strength comes from the knowledge I have that God is with me through it all. That He cares about what is happening in this family as a whole and to each one of us as individuals. The knowledge that He put me in this family for a reason. The strength that I bring to the table, is that I can’t give up. I won’t give up. And even that comes from what I know about who God is.
I don’t know how many more times we’ll have to go through these episodes as a family. I don’t know what kind of choices my son is going to make in the future. I don’t know how long this current situation will last, but I do know a few things. It will pass. I’ll get over it. God is always here.