The hurt.

When I spoke to my son on the phone the other day I didn’t mention that I felt sad afterwards.  Sad that this is his life away from us.  Before we had to take him off the one med that produced stability I had things pretty wrapped up for Thomas.  He was in a great school, awesome recreation programs and on the waiting list for group home placement for when he turned 21.  Thomas was also pleasant to be around.  High maintenance yes but not aggressive and well liked at school and his other programs.  It’s only recently have I realized that my way is not the way things were to go.  As my husband likes to say, “We’re not in charge”.  He’s right.

When I think back to actually admitting Thomas to residential; as his mother I literally gave them my son.  I couldn’t live like that anymore and neither could he. I was still spiraling from depression and everything just felt so hopeless. I realize now that our situation was not hopeless. I did love my son enough to want him to get help even if that meant handing him to other people and admitting I couldn’t do it.

I think what hurt the other day was the cold water reality that “my way” that I worked so hard for wasn’t ever going to happen. It really bothered me and it took a therapy session to unearth that in me. I’ve had time to digest that fact and I’m ok with it. What matters most is that Thomas receives all the supports and help he needs. He also needs his mother. I need to remember that, he’ll always need me here and there just like the girls. Heck I still need my mother.

I wish I had something deep and philosophical to write about the love and courage it took to allow other people to help shape my son’s future. I don’t. I can only say that it stings even hurts sometimes but it will be totally worth it to watch him grow.

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