Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Tired of being tired...

What happened to my energy? Yes, I'm going through menopause. I've got the power surges going on, and fatigue is partly due to not be able to sleep all through the night.

My son is a large part of my stress, though. I took a vacation from him on Sunday. It was nice get back to my routine of going to my church, and hearing a message that was very encouraging. It was about "You Gotta Keep Dancing". Given that I have a son who is 7 weeks into his sobriety, who lives in a new city 2 hours away, who doesn't have a full-time job... it's sapping my joy to try and keep a positive attitude.

My best friend tells me that B hung out at her house for most of Sunday-- doing laundry, watching television and playing with a new gadget someone gave him-- so that he can access the internet. I heard that on Monday, his father drove up to deliver the rest of B's clothes and shoes that he needed.

I had a rough day at the office. I was told that I looked like I'd been hit by a truck (gee, thanks). My hair was frazzled, make-up was askew and that I looked like I was ready to collapse. I was very happy to see the clock hit 4:30 so that I could head home. I took a chance, and called my son.

I still can't recall all of what he said-- the part my brain got stuck on was "I was in an accident. It wasn't my fault...I was trying to see a freeway sign but a big gas truck was blocking in. I was only going about 85 miles an hour, when a car swerved and hit the divider....I'm okay, though."

The rest of the paragph is a blur. I had visions of my son either being handcuffed for dangerous driving, or that his car was totaled. I guess I went into a temporary shock, because we moved on to another topic.

My son is struggling, no doubt. We chatted a little bit, and I explained to him that the reason he thinks I'm acting crazy isn't because of menopause-- thank you very much. I told him that I don't know how to talk to him. No matter how I try to deliver what I am feeling, no matter how hard I try to sugar-coat things, I can't win!

He responded that there is nothing to win. I don't want his addiction to win, but how can I help him to understand that?

I realized that B is still in a very delicate stage of his recovery. B is feeling depressed and I fear that he is totally lost in how to survive in this world.

I agreed to drive up on Saturday to spend time with him. I will, at least, be able to fulfill one motherly fantasy. He asked me to help him shop at the grocery store. He has no clue on how to cook inexpensive meals. Me, being the Foodie who cooks from scratch, will need to revert back to the days of my youth with hardly any money to live on. So, it's back to Hamburger Helper, tuna casseroles, canned soups and pasta recipes. I don't like processed foods, but given that my son would be happy to eat at Carl's Junior every single day-- this is the route I will need to take.

I'm struggling, today. I'm worried, sick, about my son. I feel so helpless and powerless.

I wonder if God ever gets tired of my daily please for help, wisdom and encouragment. I know he doesn't. I think I'm just allowing myself to feel discouraged. I don't want to do that. That's how the Dark One robs us of our joy.

Till later,


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