I am not the type to pray. I don't believe in putting the power to change my circumstances in some imagined entity outside of myself when I am capable of and responsible for my own energy. But I need help. I know what I want to do, and I try to do it, and I can't. This is a problem in my relationship with my child and my relationship with my partner, and I don't want either of those relationships to fall apart. But they will. I am at a crisis point and I am afraid.
I know where I want to be, I even know how to get there. But I can't do it. How many times must I fail before accepting that it's just beyond my abilities to change? Am I foolish to believe that I could ever be something other than what I've always been? I feel like I'm trying to fly by jumping off the roof with a sheet tied around my neck as a cape. I can convince myself all day long that I am Wonder Woman. I can jump off of that roof from sunrise to sunset. I can meditate on it, I can exert more effort, I can tweak my takeoff, my landing. In the end, though, it is an exercise in futility. That's what interpersonal relationships feel like to me right now.
I can read this book, and try these things, and make these commitments, and join these groups. I can set my intentions and make my promises. In the end, though, I end up falling flat on my face. CAN I EVEN CHANGE? I really want to. I want the people I love to be happy. I want to contribute to their emotional well-being, not destroy it. Why can't I stop. What do I do. This is my fervent prayer, because everything I've done has led me nowhere. I can blame and point fingers and make excuses, but in the end, people are suffering because of me. What do I do if I can't make it stop????? Should I even exist? Why am I here?
Last week, Tristan stayed at his dad's all week. He had a great week at school. I think I mentioned that. Then, he was with me this past weekend, and I got a call from school this morning. He was running around, swearing, acting rowdy. I guess they got him calmed down but I can't deny it anymore. It's me. I am failing at parenting. I know this negative attitude isn't going to get me anywhere! I know I need to focus on the positive, be optimistic, believe in myself! I know I can't give up. But I really feel like this is so much bigger than me, and I'm drowning.
Last night, I gave him his melatonin at 7:30. I let him watch a movie with me like I did last Sunday. Last week, though, he had fallen asleep during the movie and the rest is history -- slept beautifully, had a great day at school Monday. Sunshine and roses. Last night, he was still awake when the movie ended. Well, that's okay. I put him to bed and put my phone on the charger in his room. To make a long story short, he was up until 11 and I started to suspect he had an electronic device in there. When I went to look, my phone was off the charger. I found it under his pillow. I was so angry -- livid! I had to leave the room because I honestly had such a strong impulse to spank him. I didn't want to do that, especially since I felt that the drive to do so originated from a desire to release my anger and nothing constructive.
I couldn't stop fuming, though. I couldn't hold it in. I just went off on him...about how I do everything for him to make sure he can succeed, I miss work, I drive him all the way to Allegan, I pay to file papers, I let him stay at his dad's so he can get enough sleep, I buy melatonin, I buy parenting books, etc etc etc and he doesn't even CARE, I do all this to help him but he won't do anything to help himself. I told him I can't trust him (because he lied about having the phone, and I left it in there and he couldn't keep his grubby little hands off of it) and he's a liar and he isn't even TRYING. He cried so much. I felt so awful. I couldn't take it back. I'm crying now, as I write this. Sadly, this is a familiar scene. I wish I knew how to make it stop.
Following the rush of outpouring anger that refused to be contained, I was immediately overcome by immense guilt and shame. I tried to snuggle him and apologize. I laid next to him and gave him reiki, foolishly believing that if I was nice enough, I could make him forget all the things I just said. It never works that way. You can pull all of the nails out of the fence, but the holes are all still there. It isn't sleep, or his school, or his teacher. It's me. I don't know how to fix it.
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