Stirring things up can be really good. Or REALLY bad. It can make room for new ideas or plans. Or, it can pit people against one another.
Tonight was one of those bad kinds of stirring up. Sometimes, I regret the fact that I have disappointed so many people. That I have allowed myself to breathe. That I jumped from the sinking ship and survived. Survivor's guilt. I've got it. Not always.
But my eldest went after tender spots with his little brothers tonight. With my graduating senior. The elder one asked the graduate if he had invited his dad. He said no. He made a deal. I intervened. This was after he had already asked whether anyone from dad's side of the family was coming from out of state...when he already knew the answer. Then, later on, in another room, he again was talking about his dad and how he was going to come to the party and he knows because he was planning a bday bbq for him and he couldn't make it on the day of the grad party. I don't even know how he knows when the party is! But somehow, my eldest seems less trustworthy. Something about the drugs...or lack of drugs.
But he kept stirring.
When I hushed him the second time, he "went out to catch some air," and I followed a few minutes later. I followed the smell of cigarettes. Found him hunkered over by a fence. I was firm about him not pushing his two brothers apart by using stuff with their dad. I told him that all of them would work it out in time. Not in his time...but their time. He guilted me. Mightily. Couched in caring, but still, simple guilt. That he has to explain to my grandson why grandma and grandpa aren't together anymore. That he moved here to emulate our lives. That at church nobody cares about him and only ask him about how his parents are doing. That he wants to be a part and be informed. That....it just went on and on. I told him that it was my responsibility. That I understood that it was difficult. That I am sorry that it is difficult. I told him that he needs to stay out of the stuff with his brothers and dad and deal with his stuff with him. He said he feels like he has to censor what he says to his dad or to me. I told him to simply not tell me about his dad. Not to be in the middle and not to try to be my confidant. I feel sad because I know that he knows what was wrong. He just can't get over that it affects HIM.
And that's why I sometimes wish I was still miserably married. I hate that my surviving means that others have to suffer for a time.
He really hurt me.
And then I was gushing words out to someone AGAIN...and realized how self centered I have been. It has just been really overwhelming recently with this whole drama. I am so sick of drama. Graduation should not be drama. I'd rather just have the ex at the party and be done with it. And I wish that people would just leave me alone about it. I don't have any desire to explain or rationalize or soothe their concerns. I have concerns of my own. And for most of them, it's none of their damn business. Life goes on. And I have disappointed. I am aware. More than aware. And sorry. More sorry than they can know. I tried for so long SO that nobody else would have to hurt. But....I couldn't.
Just talked to my son AGAIN. Told him it was ok with me if his dad comes. He said, "I don't want him to come, I have seen him in six months and then he's going to come and pretend to be all buddy buddy?" There you have it. Now he is on to looking at grandpa's old coins and enjoying life. He was hurt by all of the stuff at Christmas. The healing meter was reset at that point. We might have made it by graduation if his dad had made the effort then.
But...my son has asked me NOT to be involved in it. He certainly doesn't want one of his brothers doing it. So....time. Waiting. Being patient. Knowing that we can't fix things, but we can only pray and wait and know that good things happen over time. I fully believe that all of my kids will find their real relationship with their dad. And that one day it will be a little less awkward. Maybe.
I had a rough night. My head is pounding. I feel sad. And hurt. But, strangely, also resolved. Nobody gets to choose for me but me. Hopefully based on what God has for me. But either way, I still get to choose...it's my life.
That means nobody to blame. The buck stops here. I take responsibility for the things I have done and the choices I have made.
I divorced my husband. I'm happy about it. Not happy that that is how things turned out, but happy that there was a way in order to survive. Because surviving is good.
I used to wish more that it could have been different. Now...not as much. I'm just so completely relieved.
Guess I'd better get all of that work done that I let slide while all of this family drama was going down.
blessings.
Tonight was one of those bad kinds of stirring up. Sometimes, I regret the fact that I have disappointed so many people. That I have allowed myself to breathe. That I jumped from the sinking ship and survived. Survivor's guilt. I've got it. Not always.
But my eldest went after tender spots with his little brothers tonight. With my graduating senior. The elder one asked the graduate if he had invited his dad. He said no. He made a deal. I intervened. This was after he had already asked whether anyone from dad's side of the family was coming from out of state...when he already knew the answer. Then, later on, in another room, he again was talking about his dad and how he was going to come to the party and he knows because he was planning a bday bbq for him and he couldn't make it on the day of the grad party. I don't even know how he knows when the party is! But somehow, my eldest seems less trustworthy. Something about the drugs...or lack of drugs.
But he kept stirring.
When I hushed him the second time, he "went out to catch some air," and I followed a few minutes later. I followed the smell of cigarettes. Found him hunkered over by a fence. I was firm about him not pushing his two brothers apart by using stuff with their dad. I told him that all of them would work it out in time. Not in his time...but their time. He guilted me. Mightily. Couched in caring, but still, simple guilt. That he has to explain to my grandson why grandma and grandpa aren't together anymore. That he moved here to emulate our lives. That at church nobody cares about him and only ask him about how his parents are doing. That he wants to be a part and be informed. That....it just went on and on. I told him that it was my responsibility. That I understood that it was difficult. That I am sorry that it is difficult. I told him that he needs to stay out of the stuff with his brothers and dad and deal with his stuff with him. He said he feels like he has to censor what he says to his dad or to me. I told him to simply not tell me about his dad. Not to be in the middle and not to try to be my confidant. I feel sad because I know that he knows what was wrong. He just can't get over that it affects HIM.
And that's why I sometimes wish I was still miserably married. I hate that my surviving means that others have to suffer for a time.
He really hurt me.
And then I was gushing words out to someone AGAIN...and realized how self centered I have been. It has just been really overwhelming recently with this whole drama. I am so sick of drama. Graduation should not be drama. I'd rather just have the ex at the party and be done with it. And I wish that people would just leave me alone about it. I don't have any desire to explain or rationalize or soothe their concerns. I have concerns of my own. And for most of them, it's none of their damn business. Life goes on. And I have disappointed. I am aware. More than aware. And sorry. More sorry than they can know. I tried for so long SO that nobody else would have to hurt. But....I couldn't.
Just talked to my son AGAIN. Told him it was ok with me if his dad comes. He said, "I don't want him to come, I have seen him in six months and then he's going to come and pretend to be all buddy buddy?" There you have it. Now he is on to looking at grandpa's old coins and enjoying life. He was hurt by all of the stuff at Christmas. The healing meter was reset at that point. We might have made it by graduation if his dad had made the effort then.
But...my son has asked me NOT to be involved in it. He certainly doesn't want one of his brothers doing it. So....time. Waiting. Being patient. Knowing that we can't fix things, but we can only pray and wait and know that good things happen over time. I fully believe that all of my kids will find their real relationship with their dad. And that one day it will be a little less awkward. Maybe.
I had a rough night. My head is pounding. I feel sad. And hurt. But, strangely, also resolved. Nobody gets to choose for me but me. Hopefully based on what God has for me. But either way, I still get to choose...it's my life.
That means nobody to blame. The buck stops here. I take responsibility for the things I have done and the choices I have made.
I divorced my husband. I'm happy about it. Not happy that that is how things turned out, but happy that there was a way in order to survive. Because surviving is good.
I used to wish more that it could have been different. Now...not as much. I'm just so completely relieved.
Guess I'd better get all of that work done that I let slide while all of this family drama was going down.
blessings.
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