Do you ever feel like your standing on the edge of earth but you can’t decide wether you should spread your wings and fly or just scream? This is how I have felt all summer.
There are days when I swear I can feel something out there trying to pull me in. I have no idea what or maybe who. It’s just this heavy knotted up something sitting just within my chest. Just sitting there heavy as can be and barely tugging. And it’s so exhausting. Trying to figure out what in the hell it means.
Then there are days I could just curl up in a ball and cry. Sleep and cry. All curled up. With my super thick blanket as my armor against whatever hell the world wants to throw at me that day.
Occasionally there are those days that just whirl by like the wind blew me in circles leaving me dazed and confused.
Not all days are bad or sideways. There are days of happiness, joy and laughter ribboned and twisted throughout all the others.
And still I come back to days of standing on the edge of the earth. I find myself more and more asking all the what’s and why’s of life. Sometimes I think I am really in this world all alone, it’s spinning and spinning and everyone else took the leap, and are now soaring to new heights. And here I stand. Trying to make sense of it all. Wandering. Dreaming. Wishing. But never able to fly.
The days only seem to go by faster, never slowing down. Never allowing time to take a breath and re center ones self. Constantly in motion. So I stand and scream. And no one listens.
Standing there at that moment in time, I had no idea what was happening. Had I been on the outside looking in, I never would have imagined any of it.
It was actually a very warm January night. Far warmer then January nights are suppose to be in Southwestern Indiana. I was truely at my whits end. I had set our house rules down so many times to my son. Grown son I must add. Time after time they were broken. Now, I feel I must add- I was rather passive in the enforcement of those rules, for awhile. I would casually mention “I know you feel your too old for a curfew, however I would really appreciate it if you were in by 12” to which he would respond with “ok Mom”. This went on for months.
Of course life itself was going on all around us, for us all, between us all and at times it seemed inspite of us all.
At some point, because of life going on, I noticed, no it was pointed out to me that my heart seemed hardened…actually I think cold was the word used. I blew it off, thinking about it for only a moment. Of course I came up with I’ve learned to be causios or I’ve learned to set boundaries. As far as I was concerned that was that.
In the mean time things with my son escaleted. My passiveness left completely and my psychoness emerged.
I knew what I was going to have to do, and I had known for some time. But I just could not bring myself to do it. My heart broke just at the thought of having to say the words.
Still, he pushed and he pushed and each time I fell. I always fell. That in itself is an entirely different story.
In my heart and with my soul, I knew what was going on, what the problem was and what was fueling it. No words had to be exchanged, a Mothers soul just knows. Yet, Momma couldn’t fix it. As a matter of fact the more psycho I became with my demands to follow the rules, the more fuel his demons added to the raging fire. I’m fairly sure what is going through your head right now, is not what was going on. My son had a broken soul attempting to consume his soul. And Momma was an obstacle.
The breaking point for me came that January night, technically it was a very early January morning. I was sure that morning would end with me either being carted out in handcuffs or a straight jacket.
As my heart and soul were pounding with rage and hurt, I headed to his bedroom door. Something stopped me. Stopped me dead in my march. I turned around and went to our bedroom, shut the door and stood there in the dark for about two seconds. Then I fell to my knees. There was no thought process, no “how do I do this?”. I just let it ALL out. The very first thing I said was ” Dear Lord please forgive me. I was so wrong. Please help me carry this, I can not do this by myself any longer!” I cried and prayed and cried and prayed. Not just for the struggles my son and I were going through, but for years of blaming God. Years of fighting God. Decades of asking why! And so much more. I can’t recall how long I prayed and cried. I can tell you I was on my knees until there were no more tears, until there was no more weight on my shoulders and my heart harbored no more anger, no more hurt, no more blame. I stood up feeling as if a ton had been lifted from my soul. I didn’t feel psycho, I felt love. I felt a hardened heart open as wide as the seas stretch the earth. My chains had been broken!
The next day I was able to sit down with my son and explain it was time for him to move out. Wow did it hurt, like an arrow straight through that newly opened heart! Thankfully, he understood and agreed.
He’s doing well today, despite having had to go through the unbearable pain of a broken heart. Which is something any parent hopes and prays their children never have to experience. Unfortunately, we have to allow them to live their own lives and experiences in order to learn lifes lessons. The worse part of being a parent is having to step back and allow them to do so.
That same day, I made my New Years Resolution. ( which you can read about in a previous blog post)
What has surprised me, is what I’ve learned, what I’ve experienced, what I’ve found and lost as a result of that night something stole my psychoness and led me to my knees.
The past six months has gone from a resolution to a revelation.
Until next time- May love fill your soul!