wounds

Saturday brought many things into focus, things that I wanted to remain fuzzy.

When do we know, for sure, that we shouldn't attempt to heal other people wounds anymore?

There is no 'for sure' is there?

I've been covering up for my son for months and months.  I've told myself that he will snap out of this.  I've poured my energy into pointing out to him how to bandage his wounds, how to see clearly, how to be real.

I have always been a person who easily, too easily, sees the potential in a situation or person.  It is clear as day.  I assume that they want to be that vision.

I've been through this with friends.  They tell me that they want to be less depressed or they don't want to suffer anymore but when it comes time to do something different, something new, they refuse.

I stick around for months, years, waiting for them to make the shift.  They don't.  Then, I leave.

Why can't I stay?  Why do I feel so much pain, for them, for me, for what is?

I believe what people say and ignore their actions.  I make complicated excuses for them.  I don't want to admit that they are not growing/learning because that would mean that I am not a good teacher, that I have failed to show them how to find peace in their life.

What is wrong with me?  Am I so cold-hearted?  Am I so impatient?  Why can't I stay with someone when they are ripping apart their lives?  Why can't I stay when they are making poor choices?   Why can't I stay when they are telling me that this is the life they want to lead?

Why?  Maybe because I entered the relationship in the first place to share my journey, my continuous path of learning, changing, evolving.  That was their attraction to me too, wasn't it?  Why were they friends with me?   Did they expect me to change, to all of sudden NOT see?

What people like about me is this uncanny ability to see them, to know what is going on.  They are shocked that I can see so clearly.  They seem to want what I have to offer.  They seek out my advice.  And then, they don't.   I stand there wondering what the hell to do.

I can't stay because I see a different reality.  I see them being genuine and honest.  I see them not bowing down to the weight of media/culture and other's expectations.  

My son wants to be a sheep, following the crowd.  He wants to hide himself and be this 'cool guy' who I don't recognize.   He has made this secret life online.  He is feeding off a pseudo-persona.

I bought him up to see beyond the trappings of this yet he wants it.  He wouldn't be the first child to reject his upbringing, would he?

What I find most scary are the echoes of life with his father before we separated.  The arguing, the tension, the silences, the impossibility of finding a common ground, and the lack of peace.

How do I relate to him now?   I find what he is doing to be a grave injustice…to himself, to the family, to the world.  How do I sit by and watch his phony actions and empty words.  

Perhaps this happened a while ago and I didn't see it.  I wouldn't accept it.  I still don't want to know it.

What kind of mother am I?  I am depleted.  I am exhausted.  What has all this work been for?  He doesn't want it and I don't want to accept reality.  It is right there and still I turn my head.

My house carries the air of death in it.  Something has died.