Growing into Me with Bipolar

Posts tagged ‘Parent’

I Know When I’m Beat


OK.  So, I will stop the losing battles.  I will stop trying to make the kids clean their rooms and their bathrooms.  I will stop trying to make the kids do their laundry, and hang it up.  I will stop trying to make them rinse their dishes and put them in the dishwasher.  I will stop trying to tell my son not to go to the church he wants.  I will stop trying to make my daughter tell me what is really going on with her, and stop trying to make her accept my help.  I will stop riding them about their homework.

Yes, I will no longer have any expectations at all for either of my teens.  That should decrease the number of arguments and disagreements at least by 3/4!  And, I am no longer going to try to tell them they have been at so and so’s house too much and need to take a break.  No sir!  I officially no longer care what they do.  The only rule from here on out is to be home by city curfew.  If they aren’t, I will call the cops.  That is now the only official rule.

I wish they were gone already, then I could be too.  I’m so tired of this unforgiving, unyielding life.  Even the thing I love most in the world, the thing that has kept me alive for so many years, is now turned upon me.  Now, I have nothing.  No reason to go on, except that they won’t leave yet.Image

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No, I was right the first time


I recently posted about reaching an apparently new parenting stage, where I feel like I am losing the loving, caring, sharing beautiful, kind, thoughtful kids I have so enjoyed up to now.  I didn’t see this change coming, although I should have, since they are now both in high school.  I know this is when things really change, but I guess things were so fantastic that I just never considered I would lose them, the ‘them’ they have been.

Today, I took my daughter to the doctor cuz she is having a hard time getting over this cold she has.  She’s had it for over 3 weeks now, and was complaining of pressure in her ears, and has been coughing a lot.  While there, we asked for prescriptions of the samples she had gotten on her last visit, for her year-long allergy-like symptoms.  We couldn’t remember the name, and the doctor had neglected to write it in her chart (Duh!  what kind of doc doesn’t write what meds are given to a patient??!!) , so my daughter was trying to look it up in her history on her computer.  I came over to see if I could help her, and she pushes me away saying ‘i don’t want you to look, i don’t want you over here.  i hate it when you look like that’.  I was soooo soo so hurt, I started crying and could barely finish the appointment.  I was also very angry.  Like triggered angry.  Like I can’t trust her anymore with the real me.  Because now she is just like everyone else.  Now, she is just another person, just like everyone else.  Just like everyone else who only wants to use you, to get from you what they can, and they trick you and make you think you can trust them, that they won’t hurt you.  But they are always lying.  The only thing they want is what you can give them.  They only keep you around for that, and in the meantime, treat you like dirt, disrespect you, and otherwise show you how worthless you are, except for what they want from you.  As soon as they want something, and you give it, then they shower you with adoration and happy giddiness.   Until that wears off.  Then you are worthless dirt once again.

My son is proceeding on his conversion to Mormon.  My ex says to let him act out (we are non religious), because what more clear way of having teenage rebellion than to join a conservative religion when from a family that is non religious.  I saw some sense in that, and so did not try to convince him to rethink his decisions, choices.  But now, he is moving ahead with being baptized this coming Saturday–all of which is a prelude to the final step of total conversion afterward.  I am not against any belief system or philosophy, but I am concerned that he is making life-altering decisions when he is not yet an adult, and that he does not really and fully understand this religion (or any other), and thus is unprepared to make a knowledgeable decision about this.  But again, I am not supposed to say anything.  But I am supposed to give my permission, and I am supposed to show him support, even when I don’t want to give it, and allow this to play out —for what?  for a month?  for a year?  or for several years? or forever?  How am I a good parent by allowing this to happen?  And how am I good parent not to?  Whatever I do, I am wrong.  Whatever I do, will push him further away from me, from how I raised him.  Whatever I do, I am a bad parent.  I am not even necessary to  him anymore, and he isn’t even grown up yet.  All he needs me for now is food, clothes and shelter.  And for me to tell him I’m happy for him making these decisions.  He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say, to get input, advice, to play devil’s advocate.  But he still expects me to listen.  And expects me not to talk.

So you see, I was right for all those years.  I was right that I am worthless.  That I’m just dirt people let hang around for whenever they think they can get something from it.  All my life, every person in it, has been this way.  I have never had a true friend, or a true partner.  I thought my kids would be the ones that I could trust with my heart.  The ones who would never shove me aside, crush me, and hurt me so.  I thought that if they were the ones, the ones I could really trust, that maybe that meant that I wasn’t trash/dirt/nothing.  I thought maybe that meant all those other people who have been part of my life were the ones who were wrong.  That they were the ones who nothing, who can only cause hurt and suffering to others, and that I was not the one in the wrong, the one who deserved to be treated like that.  But I was wrong.  I now see that even your own kids, who you have sacrificed your entire life to give them every benefit, every resource, who love you purely because you are you, will toss you to the curb, discard you as soon as they get the chance.  So, I was right to begin with.  I am worthless.  I am dirt.  I am nothing.  I no longer exist.  I wish I’d never thought that I could.

Letter to my Kids


I just want the 2 of you to know how much I loved you, right from the second I found out I was pregnant.  The presence of the 2 of you in my life has been the single most joyous thing in my life, ever.  Being a mother to each of you has of course had its ups and downs for all of us, but even then, being your mother has been the happiest thing in my life.  Probably the only truly happy thing I have ever had.

I always knew how precious you were, how lucky I was to have you two as my children.  There was never a day that I wished for anything else.  I had such high hopes when you were born, how much I would pay attention to you, how much I would be there for you, how I would fight for you when you were down, when things went against you, how I would make sure you always got a fair chance, that you had the best and the most that I could do for you.

I stayed with you even when I was drowning.  You were the one thing, the only thing, that I could not let go, could not give up on.  Even tho what I gave you at this time was not nearly enough, not all that you needed, I still gave you the absolute most I could.  And when we had to be apart, I almost gave up and went under.  It tore me up inside, ripped my heart to shreds, that I was not with you then.  But because of how precious you are, how important you are, I didn’t drown, and we were together again.

I know I have made mistakes. I know we have had bad times.  I know sometimes you hated me, wished you were somewhere else.  I’m sorry for not being good enough.  For not being strong enough to be the best mother to you in these times.  I’m sorry I have failed you in so many ways.  I thought I was strong, strong enough….but the challenges I have faced with my illnesses were not something I had ever counted on having to go thru, much less mother thru.  The ups and downs of bipolar and the then unknown challenges of my others, popping out here and there and and everywhere, and not understanding what it was or why it was happening has caused me to fail you.  To be less of a mother than what I should have been, less of a mother than what you got.

It hurts me to admit this, to even think it, but you deserved another mother, someone who was healthy and could be there for you with everything they had and were able to be a better mother than me.  When I am well, I know I am a good mother.  But when I am ill, I know I am worthless.  Not good mothering material.

But it still remains that you are the first and only true happiness I have ever had in my life.  Because of you I have tried and fought to be better, healthier.  I have tried to change for the better, the better mom you deserved.  Even when you are spending your time in your rooms and I do not see you or hear you, knowing that you are here, makes me so incredibly happy.  You are probably the only thing I have ever done close to ‘right’ in my whole life.  The only thing I have ever poured my whole heart and soul into every day.

I just wanted you to know how important you are to me.  How much I love both of you, how much I have enjoyed being your mother and how happy that has made me.  I’m sorry if I have not been there enough for you.  I’m sorry I have not been a good enough mother to you.  Thank you for allowing me to be your mother.  For giving me the only happiness I have ever had.  I hope I gave you enough to know you have always been loved, you are the most important thing in my life ever, and to succeed on your own.

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