Lord that title makes me think of abandonment. Well if one could use that term technically the boys abandoned me, but I feel more like I've abandoned them. It's been two weeks now being alone and I rarely feel lonely and hardly miss them.
The story of how the last boy, "Ken", left is on my MySpace blog and I'm not going to rewrite it so if anyone did ever read this and wanted to know, that's where it is. This is in spite of the fact that the boys finally discovered I was writing about them, even though I wasn't using their real name. The situation is that hey & I have Friends on there who are now reading the blog. Honestly, I did think about this but I'd started the blog long before the boys got on MySpace, plus I have a few supportive people there & I think it's important people read about this subject that few seem to care about I know others read my posts even though they don't comment, and I just didn't want to give it up. During the time the boys were living here they never noticed my blog so I just sort of shoved my worry to the back of my brain.
However I did start this blog with the thought that I could post more freely, more personally, and they wouldn't see it. For years I journalled and kept all the writings to myself and it IS hard to put myself out there like this, and I DO feel very embarrassed that people who know me are reading what I wrote. On the other hand I've learned to be an open person and find that putting myself out there -- reaching out to others in various ways -- is good for me. (Now here I am writing the most personal thoughts yet. There is so much to process.........)
As I said, I don't really miss the boys and I don't really want to see them. Yet there is a strange sense of their ghosts or spirits being here in the apartment. Memories crop up from time to time. A lot happened in six months. Ah, that feeling of when we first moved in; being a "we" instead of just me, that joy I had of having my boys here. Now I know that even early on, after a week living with me in the old apartment & helping me move and still having more stuff to move, that we already had conflicts; I lost my temper at "Jim" and he thought I didn't want him to stay and I had to cry and basically beg him not to go. Yet I was so happy then, with the two of them, and we would sit at night and actually talk.
Yet for me, the way it was, too much of the time, was me yelling, crying, begging, complaining, being sarcastic (of course, they were very difficult a lot of the time, but I'm talking about myself) --in other words, very emotional. It's not that I was the entire time but ....... it was a lot, to me, because I don't like myself when angry, most especially. Still, some of it might have served some purpose in a way, and some of the emotions I displayed might have been good for me or them or both. I'm trying not to distinguish here between "negative" & "positive" emotion because as we counselors learn feelings cannot be categorized as good or bad, they are just feelings. What matters is what we do with them. Well I'm not happy with myself and what I did with them all them time, although I also demonstrated affection, love, joy, humor, gentleness and understanding, I sure wish I could have been calmer. Unfortunately that is not me; calm does not describe me. I can get all into drama just being by myself! This is why I needed them to be gone. I need to have a chance to regain some semblance of peace within myself. Yet this is not to say I didn't like myself at all, in fact I felt very good about myself when they were here.
I had a dream last night that the two brothers' mother said to me "you have to help feed them too". I woke up and it felt so real, and I had it in the back of my head they might be hungry. Not far fetched since it's the end of the month & they will be waiting for the next Link card. Today I was in the "hood" for the first time since they were gone, with "Ken's" girlfriend, and finding myself having all sorts of mixed feelings: looking to see if my boys were at the park yet not wanting to see them, hearing Ken's voice on her voice mail, and seeing kids on the streets - a new generation of lost young people. I felt emotional after I dropped her off, and I shed a few tears but went back to being shut down. I guess that's what I'm doing - it's not really calmness. It's just so hard for me to screen out other people's pain even when they are not near me -- I know they are full of anger, guilt, shame, hurt, fear..... and I know why they have it. The trouble for me is feeling responsible for much of it, or at least feeling like I should fix it and make it better for them. Then when I realize I can't, and it inevitably reaches that point, I am overloaded with emotions and have to bow out for awhile. This time it feels more permanent. Not that I will be out of their lives completely but I do not want to, I cannot, go out seeking them.
I need to take care of myself now.
The story of how the last boy, "Ken", left is on my MySpace blog and I'm not going to rewrite it so if anyone did ever read this and wanted to know, that's where it is. This is in spite of the fact that the boys finally discovered I was writing about them, even though I wasn't using their real name. The situation is that hey & I have Friends on there who are now reading the blog. Honestly, I did think about this but I'd started the blog long before the boys got on MySpace, plus I have a few supportive people there & I think it's important people read about this subject that few seem to care about I know others read my posts even though they don't comment, and I just didn't want to give it up. During the time the boys were living here they never noticed my blog so I just sort of shoved my worry to the back of my brain.
However I did start this blog with the thought that I could post more freely, more personally, and they wouldn't see it. For years I journalled and kept all the writings to myself and it IS hard to put myself out there like this, and I DO feel very embarrassed that people who know me are reading what I wrote. On the other hand I've learned to be an open person and find that putting myself out there -- reaching out to others in various ways -- is good for me. (Now here I am writing the most personal thoughts yet. There is so much to process.........)
As I said, I don't really miss the boys and I don't really want to see them. Yet there is a strange sense of their ghosts or spirits being here in the apartment. Memories crop up from time to time. A lot happened in six months. Ah, that feeling of when we first moved in; being a "we" instead of just me, that joy I had of having my boys here. Now I know that even early on, after a week living with me in the old apartment & helping me move and still having more stuff to move, that we already had conflicts; I lost my temper at "Jim" and he thought I didn't want him to stay and I had to cry and basically beg him not to go. Yet I was so happy then, with the two of them, and we would sit at night and actually talk.
Yet for me, the way it was, too much of the time, was me yelling, crying, begging, complaining, being sarcastic (of course, they were very difficult a lot of the time, but I'm talking about myself) --in other words, very emotional. It's not that I was the entire time but ....... it was a lot, to me, because I don't like myself when angry, most especially. Still, some of it might have served some purpose in a way, and some of the emotions I displayed might have been good for me or them or both. I'm trying not to distinguish here between "negative" & "positive" emotion because as we counselors learn feelings cannot be categorized as good or bad, they are just feelings. What matters is what we do with them. Well I'm not happy with myself and what I did with them all them time, although I also demonstrated affection, love, joy, humor, gentleness and understanding, I sure wish I could have been calmer. Unfortunately that is not me; calm does not describe me. I can get all into drama just being by myself! This is why I needed them to be gone. I need to have a chance to regain some semblance of peace within myself. Yet this is not to say I didn't like myself at all, in fact I felt very good about myself when they were here.
I had a dream last night that the two brothers' mother said to me "you have to help feed them too". I woke up and it felt so real, and I had it in the back of my head they might be hungry. Not far fetched since it's the end of the month & they will be waiting for the next Link card. Today I was in the "hood" for the first time since they were gone, with "Ken's" girlfriend, and finding myself having all sorts of mixed feelings: looking to see if my boys were at the park yet not wanting to see them, hearing Ken's voice on her voice mail, and seeing kids on the streets - a new generation of lost young people. I felt emotional after I dropped her off, and I shed a few tears but went back to being shut down. I guess that's what I'm doing - it's not really calmness. It's just so hard for me to screen out other people's pain even when they are not near me -- I know they are full of anger, guilt, shame, hurt, fear..... and I know why they have it. The trouble for me is feeling responsible for much of it, or at least feeling like I should fix it and make it better for them. Then when I realize I can't, and it inevitably reaches that point, I am overloaded with emotions and have to bow out for awhile. This time it feels more permanent. Not that I will be out of their lives completely but I do not want to, I cannot, go out seeking them.
I need to take care of myself now.
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