Feeling very weary today. I had to report him, yet again. I hate doing it. I hate making him accountable. I’ve always sucked at doing so and it hasn’t gotten any easier. He needs help. He needs to be forced into treatment. He is so sick and his mind is gone and I don’t know what else to do but enforce the consequences over and over and over until he wakes up or the courts wake up and order him into treatment.
I don’t enjoy it. I admit, there were a couple of times he got arrested that brought such relief I actually felt good. But now it’s just getting old. It’s getting ridiculous. I’m not a spiteful or vindictive person. My heart aches for how sick he is, how gone he is. I don’t like destroying him.
My daughter reminded me of something important today, though, as I sat filling out yet another police report with tears streaming down my cheeks. She asked me why I was crying and I told her I didn’t like destroying her dad.
“You’re not the one doing it, Mom. He is,” she replied.
Such a wise, sweet little soul. Such an ability to recognize truth and establish reality. She is right. I still tend toward taking accountability for his actions. Even now, I blame myself for so much that is out of my control, for so much that I do not choose.
Eventually, everything will catch up with him. Eventually, he will have to pay the consequences. That doesn’t bring me the happiness or even the hope it once did. I no longer trust the court system to do its job and protect the innocent. I no longer trust that anyone else will be able to keep us safe. But I am also forgiving him. Even as he does this over and over and over. Every time, I forgive him. It is who I am, how I am. That may seem exceedingly foolish, but there is a difference between forgiving and trusting. I will forgive him, but I do not nor will I ever again trust him. He could go to treatment and heal and become a perfect specimen of a man, and I will not trust him. That is how I will keep us safe; that is how I will keep myself healthy. Forgiveness can happen without trust and my trust is forever lost to him.
Until he is actually forced to face his consequences–I must believe he will be–the kids and I will take whatever measures we can for safety.
I’m learning as well. I’m learning I still have trouble creating and maintaining boundaries. I’m learning that I still do get intimidated sometimes and allow myself to be talked over, walked over. I’m learning those are still parts of me that I give in to at times, and I’m learning how to stop listening to them. But they’re still there. Awareness is the first step to healing.
I’ll work on it, with my children as my amazing examples. I’ll work on it, and I’ll win.
And I’ll soar.