This post/letter was written as a result of some hurt feelings. I had some friends who felt like I was not reciprocating friendship well. I just had to get some of my thoughts and feelings written down so I could process...
Dear Friend,
I am writing this
letter because you in some way have reached out to me or offered to help me
with my son. If you have reached this point, you likely already know that all
is not always well with Branden. You may even know some of his history, trauma,
and even diagnoses. But one thing I can be pretty confident in, is that you
have no idea what it is like to raise him.
If you have a
child of your own, you may understand what it is to dedicate you entire existence
to your child's existence. But see, in the situation with my family, I was not
given the opportunity to hold Branden in my arms as a baby and start fresh with
loving this little boy that is totally dependent on me. Instead I have a 50lb explosive
10 year old who actually is more like a toddler. It does not mean that I love
my son less than if he were my biological child. It just means the process of
loving him is much different. Love is an emotion, but also a choice. And most
days, I have to make the choice to love my son when I don't feel it. I have
learned from my son that love is something you do.
Please know that
when you look at my family, things are not always as they seem. We may put on a
good face and look like things are going beautifully. That is the nature of his
disorders. But once we are back in our home...we struggle through a living
hell, filled with manipulation and aggression. I am not asking for your pity. I
chose him. And because of that I choose to love him.
Branden's issues,
although mostly psychological, eat him alive. When he makes progress and begins
to heal, immediately he takes a few steps back. It is as if he has a worm in
his soul that devours all the good things that are placed in Branden's soul.
Some days, it is as if the worm eats everything. There are multiple times every
day when I am Branden's sole lifeline...the only thing holding him together. If
your child had a deadly physical illness, you would spend every single waking
moment doing whatever you could to help him. And, quite honestly, if someone
walked in and asked you to switch your attention, you would resent the person
for even thinking of it.
Every single day
Branden wakes up to face the demons of his past. And every single day, he
throws them at the only person he even has to trust...even if he isn't always
confident of that trust...me. Therefore, I fight the demons of his past as
well. It is easy to tell me to how to parent him, what to worry about and what
not to worry about, that I am overreacting. But Branden is not normal. Our life
is not normal. And when you say those things unsolicited, it's like a slap in
the face. Maybe my feelings are overreactions, but they are my feelings just
the same. Regardless of intent of words...the same hurt is left over every
time.
In my family, every day is either survived in crisis mode, recovering from being in crisis
mode, or preparing for the next crisis. Most days of the week I am barely
holding on myself. There are many times that just one phone call may undo the
very fragile balance in my brain and soul. So I hit ignore and keep trudging
on. I say all this to say that I will likely be a terrible friend. You may text
or call me and I may not get back to you for a week...or forget completely. You
may not hear from me for a while and suddenly I may call you very composed and
ask for help. Please know that if I am asking for help, I likely desperately
need the help. Asking is not something I do often. Our friendship may seem very
one-sided and you may feel like you are doing all the work. I probably will not
go out with you or come over to visit much. Please don't take all this
personally. It is just the nature of the job I have taken upon myself.
If you have made
it this far and still want to be my friend and help out, then you are a saint.
Thank you. If on the other hand, you have decided that this is too much for
you, then you are still a saint. That may sound strange, I know, but I
appreciate your honesty. I appreciate you not wasting the precious and short
time I have with my child to help him heal. I appreciate that you see your
limits and are not coming into this with unrealistic expectations of me, because
I will be unable to reciprocate. So whichever category you fall into, thanks
for taking the time...and please pray for us.
Tammy
