The Message is the Same

I keep getting the same two messages over and over:  Ask for help and maintain a support system.  When something happens that rocks my world a bit and throws me back into the arms of fear I am reminded, the messages reappearing.  Don’t panic.  You’re not really in danger.  Reach out to those who care about you.

My teenage son lashed out in anger moments ago, giving me a jolt back into my old mode. The separation has past the 9 month mark and I think things are coming to a head for him. I don’t know what goes on at the other house on the weekends.  I worry.

I am the target.  I am the safe one.  They feel free to lash out at me.  Both teenagers.  A tough time already.  Martha Beck suggests laughing at our fears.   I am having a little trouble with that approach.  I prefer my Vipassana practice which allows for observing, sitting with it, and waiting for the deeper meaning to present itself.  My fear has real roots and I am not going to make light of them.

My heart bleeds for my sons.  For their pain.  I often feel helpless.   Understanding that I cannot take their pain away.  It’s my job to teach them how to feel through my own example, but not to try to take their pain away.

My father was an alcoholic.  Then the undeniable truth of my husband’s alcoholism came out after we moved out.  Now I am moving out of my role of the fixer and learning a whole new way of looking at the world.  It’s excruciating.  I am in foreign territory.  Learning a new language, new customs.  I have found others from my country of origin in a new sort of family.  We all make the same claim, “I’m an  adult child (of an alcoholic).”  We are all working to change the trajectory of our lives and that of our families, working diligently so as not to pass on the dysfunction to our children.   We can only hope things get better with each generation as we work on changing ourselves one day at a time.

About Suzanne

I write poetry, flash fiction, quotes and personal essays. Words flow forth like a river that cannot be dammed. Writing is my soul.
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