Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Feeding the Wrong Wolf

Last night I gorged the dark wolf.  My son has been exceedingly difficult again lately.  We had a short reprieve this past week when we came up with something that worked again in helping him to modulate his behavior.  But like everything else we've ever tried, it only worked for a few days before he stopped caring.  The other day my boss was telling me about her son's migraine headaches, and said to me, "at least you know how to deal with your son's issues.  It's awful not knowing how to help my son."  What?!  I was so taken aback by both the inappropriate comparison and the power differential that exists in that situation, that I didn't even respond.  I wish I had said something about not comparing the two situations.  It is really freaking horrible when one's child is in physical pain and one doesn't know how to help.

It's also horrible that my child has a potentially misdiagnosed mental illness and I simply don't have the tools to help him.  It's horrible to worry about whether or not my son will become a decent person; and to worry about whether or not he'll decide to take his own life someday, like he's been threatening to do on and off since he was seven years old.  The guilt is horrible when I don't want to be around my child who senses when I'm at my weakest, most exhausted state, and intentionally antagonizes me.  He has actually told us before when he wasn't in the thrall of his issues, that he enjoys upsetting us when he's in that mood.  It's horrible that I have to remind myself that he has good qualities so I can be loving.  He is very gentle with and kind to babies and small children.  He befriends the kids who are marginalized by other children.  His mind works differently than others so he often sees things through a unique and helpful perspective.  He has a great sense of humor.  I have to hold on to these things when he's being completely defiant and telling me he doesn't even want me around.  It's also horrible that I have another child who doesn't get the attention she needs and deserves because I have no time or energy left after dealing with her brother.  Sometimes I feel that not only am I not capable of parenting these children, but that I shouldn't be doing it because I'm doing more harm than good.

I'm also still struggling terribly with my dad's death this past spring.  He was an exceedingly difficult man, and quite frankly I wasn't prepared for how badly I would miss him in light of those issues.  I also didn't understand how much of a foil he was with the rest of my family.  I'm uncertain how to navigate my extended family relationships and dynamics without him there.  I was always the "good" child who did everything I was supposed to do, and now I feel like the black sheep who hasn't fallen in line with everyone else.

None of us truly know what may be going on with another person.  I certainly don't share all of this personal stuff at work (and am even hesitant to share it here, but I can't write if I'm not being authentic).  That is why it's so important to always approach others with kindness, compassion, and understanding.  A difficult interaction with a coworker or a stranger may be the straw that breaks this camel's back.  If that happened, I'm sure the unfortunate person on the receiving end of my breakdown would think my reaction was totally out of proportion to the stimuli.  They'd be right of course, and still be wrong because they wouldn't understand the underlying issues.

Like many other people, I have lots of wonderful things in my life, and I have some really crappy things in my life.  I guess now I have to decide whether or not I'm going to continue to make choices that put my health and weight in that crappy category; or if I'm going to make choices that put my health and weight in the other category.  I also have to decide how I'm going to react to all of this.  Right now I'm completely stressed out.  My body aches.  I'm eating way more than I need to attempt to meet an emotional need with food.  Last night I actually thought I might be having a stress-induced heart attack when I was having chest pains (my exercise regime doesn't exempt me from heart problems, look at Sergei Grinkov, and my dad did die of heart problems).  I need to decide which wolf to feed, how healthy I want to be, and how I want to live my life.

If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.
 - Rush, Freewill

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