why have I not been driven to drink?

You know how they say doctors are the worst patients? No? Well, they are. I might add add 'counselors make the worst clients'. We are educated and skilled at seeing through the surface stuff, analyzing and conceptualizing the inner stuff and spitting out fabulous, optimistic and empowering ideas.

But when it comes to doing this for ourselves? Not so much. 

October 2009. As you may or may not know, I lost my job 6 1/2 months ago. Honestly? I didn't belong there. I knew this and so on my way home that same evening {I'm not exaggerating} I said to God, "I know there's a purpose behind all this. I know there's a reason and I'm ready to learn and progress forward. I'm actually excited!"

I filled out unemployment that very evening, searched for other positions available in the area and started making calls within a few days to volunteer while I looked for work. In addition to this, my house got a very thorough Spring cleaning in the Fall, my closets were finally organized to my liking and my husband now had a full-time secretary. Life was good. I was positive. I just knew this was going to be a great journey.

Fast forward to February.

No job. No hopefuls. No license. No. One. Cared. I started getting lost in despair. My life was coming to the end as I knew it. There was simply no hope of ever being the professional counselor I'd once, long ago, dreamed of. Lessons learned? What lessons? SCREW THE LESSONS! I may have a flare for the dramatic. No? 

March. I get my license in the mail. I celebrate. My husband even gets it framed for me. I have an interview for the first time in 2 months. This seems like a dream job. Life is looking up. Enter T-boy. Hopes for the job are dashed. Emotional chaos commences. T-boy takes over my every through and emotion. T-boy leaves. Emotions continue. I have more interviews with agencies that I walked away thinking, "Was that for real? Are they pretending to run a company or am I just crazy?" What about the dream job? Not on the radar at this point as certain things just won't line up. GRR!

April. Is it still April? Oh. I thought it was May. This month is like taking forever. There are times I sit in my house for 3 days straight. I can see depression setting in. Not. Good. At. All.

C and I communicate often. She is a complete inspiration to me and we are very much on the same page when it comes to world view. Of course as my mentor, I've shared all of this with her. Every time I'd email, I'd read back over the email and be completely disgusted with my negativity, but hit send anyway. Of course her responses always line up with what I believe, but I've been a bad client. I can have a good talk and yet my walk is completely non-existent.

But I woke up and now I'm running. 

Want to know what I'm doing? How am I being empowered during such a slump? Why am I acting as if I have everything I want?

Stay tuned... I'll be back tomorrow. Promise.

excuse me while I dramatize my life

To say that I've been emotionally overwhelmed is like standing on the seashore, seeing a tsunami coming toward you and casually stating "I think we're in trouble."

I can't tell you all the details as it doesn't fully involve me and I'm not at liberty to publicly spill the beans. 

But I will tell you this: There was an incident in our home and T-boy is no longer with us. He has now been taken to juvenile detention and we are devastated. We've been through all sorts of emotional states... disappointment, frustration, anger, regret, guilt and yet we come to the other side understanding we can't control anyone's behavior or choices. Period. 

We will go visit him this weekend and make sure he knows how much we care about him and that we still love and support him on his journey of life. He's 14. He's not a monster. He's not a horrible, terrible, not good person. He's a child, a boy... who is in a lot of pain. 

We may not have what it takes to heal his pain, but we have to control his behaviors or heal his pain, but we do have the gift of love and that's what we will give him. I will continue to update you on his progress and what happens from here. Just because he's not in our home does not mean we won't be involved in his life as much as is possible. Thank you for all of your positive words and feedback.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I have a husband who also needs a lot of TLC - While he is very much a manly, Marlboro man... he's got some deep wounds of his own and I feel like I've been an emotional nurse for 3 weeks. Can you hear the sound of my deep sighs? 

*****SIGH*****

But don't worry... I may have had 1  or 2, or 19 of these in the last few weeks to help.

 

 I'm kidding.*

I digress from my dramatization... 

More fun, witty and serious posts to come!

Have I mentioned how much I've loved returning to blogging!?

*Seriously. I'm such a lightweight. I can't have more than one drink in a sitting. Ever. I get sick and my heart does weird things. It's such a bummer.

His Heart

T-boys list of charges is the length of a child's Christmas list. Everything from simple assault to assault with a deadly weapon. To hear the stories, your mind spins with thoughts that his life is over, that there's no hope. He's on probation. For the second time. He's been to juvenile detention. He's been in group homes because he's just "too much to handle". The road seems long and hard and you start to wonder if this child who has acted like a total angel since you got him on Tuesday is fooling us.

Then.

Friday night, after telling him it's time to take a shower, he was walking toward the bathroom and spins around on the hard wood floor, "Do you go to church?" No. We don't. Without going into a long explanation of why not, we did tell him we believe in church and think it's great, it's just not for everyone.

"Well, it's for me. I like it. I learn about God and I think He loves me. Would you take me on Sunday?"

Holding a well full of tears back that had been building since Tuesday, I told him of course, just let us know where he wanted to go and we'd take him. He turned and went to take his shower, I turned and ran to our bedroom. Sobbing on my knees I cried out to God telling Him "I know you see his heart. Everyone sees his behaviors, but You see his heart. Help us see that same heart."

Isn't it the parent's responsibility to see their child's heart? I guess it would be hard if that parent is blinded by their own broken heart. I say that, BTW, with deep empathy, not judgment. If I know anything about God, He's not concerned with our behaviors as much as He is with our heart. He focuses on what our heart is saying and feeling and He touches us there. At least He does me. Our behavioral response will be the natural outflow of our response to Him working on our heart. Until a child is old enough to conceptualize that for themselves, it is the responsibility of the parent to help their children understand what their heart is saying and feeling and work with them to figure out their emotions and therefore teach them how to respond healthily.

I'm deciding not to concern myself with what his rap sheet is saying, those are the behaviors of an obviously brokenhearted little boy. I'm choosing not to look and see how long his road seems to be. It's T-boys heart that I'm starting to see and it's his heart that is giving me hope.

48 hours

It's amazing what a mere 48 hours can reveal. I was taken aback when he told me he's been given sleeping aids for years. Shocked when he told me he eats Banquet frozen dinners and Spaghetti-O's for dinner every night. Appalled when I found out his baby teeth rotted out of his mouth before he lost them naturally.

I feel like punching someone. I feel like screaming as loud as I can to get someone's attention. I feel like writing long and nasty letters. I'm not an angry person nor do I feed my life with negativity, but when someone hurts a child as a result of their own need of convenience, I'm pissed.

Two and a half years ago, T-boy watched his grandfather, who raised him, seize and die of a heart-attack in the back seat of their car. This is when the violent behaviors began. "Gee, could this possibly be connected? Why, I don't know... let's ignore it and see if it goes away! Or let's pump him with more drugs to drown out his personality or "calm" him down because he's such a disturbance!"

Clearly I'm infuriated. We've tried to help. We offered to take him on weekdays last September so to offer him structure, tutoring and the opportunity to be involved in extra curricular activities. But apparently someone thought we had ulterior motives... wicked, wicked people that we are.

I digress from the ultimate form of sarcasm.

To know these things are taking place in your family and yet further knowing there wasn't a thing you could do until the courts got involved, is like being under water with no breath left, seeing an air tank, but being tied down by chains and drowning.

There are 6 uncles (all brothers), one of whom is the father of T-boy. So you wonder why none step/ped in? Each brother's efforts to help being warded off by T-boy's legal guardian. In some way, shape or form, each of their attempts to help is apparently some sort of threat that T-boy is will be taken away. It's clear the only people not bamboozled by her frighteningly bitter reactions is social services.

Two days ago this was proven true when we all stood before a judge and custody was handed over to us.

This is what I've found out in 48 hours. I don't even want to know what 3 weeks will reveal.

T-Boy

Have you ever heard of taking your "emotional temperature"? That is what I'm doing to our home this morning. It's not been 48 hours since our nephew, I'll call him T-boy, has moved in. Here's the low down:

• He's 14
• He's suspended from school indefinitely
• He has several legal charges against him
• He's a danger to his grandmother
• He's a danger to himself
• He's smart
• He's hurting
• He's starving for acceptance
• He wants love even more

Since the time T-boy was 1 to 2 years old, my husband has wanted to take him and raise him. He's bought him motorcycles and taught him to ride, he's given him Busch Gardens season passes and taken him there, T-boy has stayed whole weeks with him in the summers, he's taken him to work, to sports events and other recreational activities. All until about 2 1/2 years ago.

The story is tragic.

It's heartbreaking.

I cried in the shower this morning.

I don't know how long he'll be here; 3 weeks or 3 years, but either way, while I have the chance, he'll be loved.

The emotional temperature in our home is "pensive". I feel like I'm mourning the death of a child who is still alive and well.

I'll tell you why tomorrow.