• eschaden

Blogs from the Edge...

Ok I stole that title with a little modification from Carrie Fisher...it is a great fucking title. And I am there, on the edge. Pushed here by the children I gave birth to. Living a life that is more like a warden than a mother. Seeing that my children really do not give two fucks about themselves, me, or anything in this life. Other than getting what they want in the moment.

My daughter is now the one that is totally off the rails. After months, hell, maybe years of lying, the gig is up and her backstory of using, lying and stealing is now front and center. I called her dad to inform him of the current situation, he was annoyed that I called him on his last day in Mexico on vacation because it was the only sunny day they had in their week there. Geez, I am sorry to intrude with information that our daughter is a fucking mess, that I am here trying to manage all by myself. Lesson finally learned, I am in this alone. 100%.


Yesterday she told me she hated me, that she hates our family, that she doesn’t want to live here anymore, that she is going to run away, that I am the worst mother in the world, and that she doesn’t give a shit what I want or what the rules are, she is going to do what she wants.


What am I supposed to do? I mean really? She is 15. I have taken her devices of self destruction, today I am going to toss her room like a prison guard, but she left home yesterday and went to a friend’s house, the friend that has been supplying her with drugs and alcohol and got an iPad. So my efforts to restrict that complete negated.


I feel so defeated. I have just been through hell with my son and now it appears that I am going to go through round 2 with her. And I am not up for it. I do not have the patience, the reserve, the emotional bandwidth to deal with any of it. I am done.


I can’t control any of this. I am completely powerless. I can try to lock up my belongings, I can try to coerce compliance, but in the end I am legally responsible for two kids who are going to do whatever the fuck they want. And I have to continue to let them live here...and throw parties at my house when I am not here, break all the rules and then thwart any and all consequences. I am stuck. They are stuck. And it all fucking sucks.


I completely hit a wall last night. I just felt like someone opened a vein and let all my blood leak onto the floor. I am failing. I am faltering. And I do not know what to do and no one, not my friends, my family or the professionals have any ideas. No one. Everyone is like, “wow, that sucks. Sorry I can’t help...”


I have taken both my kids to therapy only to have the therapists call CPS on events that didn’t happen at my home, and weren’t actions done by me. Of course, there was nothing CPS could do because there was nothing to be done. I am not the problem. So instead of getting help, we got police involvement and then a great expanse of nothingness. Apparently, that is what happens, nothing. Until something really awful happens that scars us all for life or leaves us dead. Therapist only give a fuck about themselves and law enforcement only acts when someone is brandishing a gun or knife. Or has 27 baggies of whatever the fuck is being sold and consumed these days.


And I don’t have the interest or the ability to rise to the occasion. I just want to quit. I would send them both to their father except he is in Mexico and not interested in raising them. I have done my best. I have been here. Sober doing all the things. And they both have hated me for it. And now I live in a war zone where I have to sleep with my wallet, keys and money under my pillow or locked in a safe that I don’t currently posses so that I can stop them from taking my car, stealing my shit or getting their devices back when I take them.


I have to say that it has been a long time since I felt this hopeless. No one can help. They hate me. I do not know what to do and I am emotionally fried. I didn’t sleep last night because I was up thinking about drinking all night. I mean, that would not help a fucking thing. But at least, I could be the mess for awhile. I mean, they get to escape, why can’t I?


Because I am the adult? Fuck that. I hate being an adult. I am tired of adulting. I want to quit too.


Should I just let them have their devices, smoke pot, drink, steal the car? I mean, me creating and maintaining boundaries hasn’t worked, they just thwart me at every turn. They just go around me, and do whatever they want to do anyway. What is the fucking point?


I stayed awake most of the night trying to figure out how to deal with all of this. How to manage, how to cope. And I came up with only that I am powerless in a situation where I am supposed to have power. And I don’t. And while the law says that I have to parent, there is literally nothing I can do, so I remain caught, trapped between legal culpability and moral limbo. I am supposed to parent. And I have been, and no matter what I have done, it is all wrong. All of it. Nothing I have done has really helped. I mean my son is better but he still violated the rules, smoked weed and had a party Friday night. And while he was amazing yesterday and kind, he still undownloaded the app I put on his phone and told him that if he took it off the phone was gone. So now I have one child who isn’t speaking to me...that I had to get up this morning and summon up the courage to look in her room to see if she was even there.


What the fuck am I supposed to do? I really don’t know and neither does anyone else. Not my family, not my friends, not the professionals. No one. I am on the edge of my parenting life, crying out for help that never comes, and even the help I receive doesn’t really change anything. Not really. Oh it might temporarily change the trajectory, but as fast as they can, my kids make decisions that set the whole help thing on its ear and threaten all stability and forward progress.


Parenting sucks. My kids suck. I suck. And there is nothing I can do about any of this. It is just a fact. Life is so hard right now and the most shitty thing is that it isn’t because our lives really suck. It is just because these two kids of mine have had such a privileged existence that they wouldn’t know real pain or trouble if it whacked them upside the head. They have never been hungry, they have never been unloved, they have wanted for almost nothing. They haven’t been abused. They have been loved and cared for at a high level for all of their days. And perhaps that is the worst thing I have done as a parent. Loved them too much. Given them too much.


This would be where I tell you that I am all done giving and now am going to really let them have it by doing whatever the fuck thing that I think I can or should do to teach them a lesson. But I am not going to do that here. There is not a thing I can do to make this better, and lots of things I can do to make it worse. And I am not even sure where the line between worse and better is anymore.


I am so tired. So done. So absolutely fried. And there is no end in sight for any of us. I love them. And I think they love me, but who even knows these days. They might hate me because I am the only parent that has shown up. That seems fitting to where we are right now, hate me because I am here and easy to hate. Because I am out spoken and attempting to parent.


I admit I am full of self pity today and it isn’t attractive. But it is where I am. Life sucks. Parenting sucks. I suck and I can’t think of anything to do about any of it that I haven’t already tried a million times. And please, unless you want to jump in this particular trench with me, please don’t tell me to remove red die from their diet, or get therapy or make sure they are only eating raw organic Whole Foods, or whatever other fucking bullshit we come up with today. The world is fucked on so many levels and I am just one person who is losing the fight. I am here, sober, trying to be a good parent. Shouldering all of this, the hatred, the lack of appreciation, the lack of respect for me, for my home, for my things and the law says I have to do this for another at least three years.


I want to quit. But what does that even look like? There is nowhere to go from here, I can throw them out but then I will end up in trouble. And they will be fucked forever. I can continue my career as Warden here at my house, while I exhaust and consequence myself to death. Make no mistake, the inmates are always running the asylum, they just let us think that we are the ones holding the keys. They hold them. And they always have.


Because they know I love them. They know, because they have witnessed me showing up for them every single day of their lives, of giving them chance after chance, of believing their continued bold faced lies. Of being willing to show up day after day, month after month, year after year. They know they have me. I am their mother. What the fuck else can I do?


I am hoping this is the bottom, but fear it is only a beginning. My daughter seeming hell bent on making the present as horrible as she can. Me having no options. I can’t make her go to therapy. I can’t make her not use drugs to escape. I can’t make her clean her fucking room so how the hell am I going to make her do anything else?


I am powerless. I am just going to have to reside right here. It is inescapable. I can’t do anything but accept the fact that my teenagers are running amuck and there is little I can do to stop them. I can’t even protect myself or my belongings. They just take them. And I fear that it is only going to get worse.


I want to quit but I am not even sure what that looks like...do I just stop giving stupid and futile consequences? Do I continue to tilt at the teenaged windmills to no fucking avail whatsoever? What the fuck am I supposed to do? I really don’t know.


I have tried to be a good mom. I worked on my shit before I had them. Got years of sobriety and therapy behind me, made sure that I was set and secure and stable before bringing them into the world. I married someone that I thought was going to help raise these kids with me. But none of this has turned out the way that I thought it would. I have done my best to be available, ready, present and none of that has worked. I am really not sure where to go when my best thinking has still landed us in the current jackpot with no solutions anywhere to be found.


I want to quit. I want not to quit. And I am not really even sure what any of that even looks like anymore. I am not going to drink or off myself. Those are just my own teenaged demons showing up to the party to show me that I too can still self destruct. But I have too much recovery for that and I am not that person anymore. I have done my best to create and curate a life that is attractive and loving. But I can’t make my kids want it. I can’t make them see that my way of living infinitely better than the path that they seem to be choosing. It is their lives after all. While I brought them into the world, I am completely powerless to stop them from making choices and decisions that will forever alter their lives, even the choice to stay alive. And that is a hard place to be.


I am depleted. I do not have another round in me, to now jump into the ring with my daughter after going forty-two rounds with my son. I feel like I have been dodging and getting pummeled by Mike Tyson for the past seven years and now I am being expected to fight Mohamed Ali, the greatest of all time. And I am caught, stuck on the ropes, feeling my demise in every footfall they make towards me. The announcer going off, saying, “folks, this doesn’t look good, she can’t see because of the blood that leaks into her eyes, and her hands are gloveless and all there is that is left is for her opponent to knock her out cold”. And as I lean into the ropes, I kind of wish for the final blow. Just put me out of my misery. Perhaps if I get out of the way they will be better off. My best efforts, all my efforts have arrived us here in a place where neither of my children can tell the truth, follow the reasonable rules and give two shits about all the things that I have worked so hard to provide. There is really nothing left but to wait for the final blow...and pray that I survive it with only minimal brain damage.


The present looks bleak and the future bleaker...and that is where we are today. I am trying really hard not to give up. To find the willingness to stay in the ring and pray for a Hail Mary, some Divine intervention that saves us all from me being bludgeon...but I have to say that I am losing faith, in me, in God, in them, in the powers that be. I am on the edge. And the longer I stand here, the more inviting it looks to jump. Dramatic, I know. But it isn’t just drama, it is my reality. And I am doing my best to hold on a little longer for that reality to change into something that is less perilous, but with every passing day, I lose hope one pebble beneath my shoe at a time.


I do not know what happens next. I am trying to follow instructions but I honestly can’t even hold it all in my head anymore. I feel consumed by the hopelessness, despair and heartbreaking loss that surrounds my home and family. I know this will change, maybe for the better, maybe it will get worse. Right now the only thing I can do is pray for the willingness to remain right where I am, the strength to hold on a little longer and to trust that it is always darkest before the dawn. It is all I have left.




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