I Miss Them A Lot

Sometimes I feel better. Only to start feeling worse again. 
The heavy drops are pretty heavy. Anyone else feel like that?

If I use my imagination, then I'm pretending. 
If I use anything, it's like pretending.
And I can't just pretend. 

I can't just.... I can't do that anymore. 

Been having those bouts more and more lately. 
Don't know what to do about them. 
Feeling pretty out of it tonight. 

The people I want to talk to, I can't talk to them anymore. 
I miss them a lot. 
Don't know what to do. Nothing that I can do. 

Watching a show or movie only does so much, too. 
Pretty much anything can only do so much. 

"Happiness is felt." Under all these other feelings?
I don't even know what to do anymore.... 

Someone was asking something about loneliness
in one of the groups I'm in. 
One of the responses was that it has to do with
the inability to enjoy one's own company. 

Like when I used to be doing better, I was doing okay. 
I wasn't feeling like this. 
There were times I felt decent. 
But it was hard to get there. 

In the last couple years, especially, 
it was really hard to get out of my head. 
And I didn't feel very good about all the sh*t
that I was going through. 
That I wrote about over the last couple of years.

When something's not going well, 
or an ending occurred.... I can't think of much else. 
I want to fix the things I can't do anything about
and it's a hard feeling to overcome. 

Overcoming loss is really hard for me
because I feel it very strongly. Deeply.
And that feeling just pervades everything. 
And I end up losing more. And more.

But I can't start drinking again, or trying to date, 
or anything... I can't do those things. 

I'm definitely not ready for anything with anyone. 
Even when I thought I was. 
Even when I was doing better... 
I should have just kept going with feeling better.
Because I always end up with the "I wasn't worth it" feelings. 
And the loss feelings. 
Mixed with other feelings... 

It's like most can only see me as:
"You're so f*cked that you don't know how f*cked you are..."
Apparently I am. 

And what if others just can't see the good in me?

And it's like every time I try to explain myself, 
I seem to make things worse. 
And I can't feel good about that. How can I? 

I f*cked things up so badly that I just want to hide. 
From myself and from everyone. 
Because things aren't the way they seemed. 
I'm going through a lot of hard stuff. 
There was a lot I didn't know and couldn't see. 
I feel like I completely failed. 
I don't know how to stop feeling like this. 
I wish I never felt like this. 

I seem to get anxiety more
when I'm wanting to change something that I can't change.
And I don't think it's a control thing. 
It might be, but it might not be. 

Because things don't have to be the way we want them to be. 
And I wish I had seen that a long time ago. 

But it's like: "How do you get past something
that you feel like you can't ever get over?"

Not because it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to. 
But it just seems like a huge injustice. 
And why? Because everyone and everything
is supposed to be okay?
Ideally, yes. Ideally. 

And I still feel like I have to do something about this. 
And if I had done something about it a long time ago, 
things would be very f*cking different today. 
But I couldn't see what I was f*cking doing. 
And now... That feeling that there's nothing I can do
when people don't listen to me and don't want to. 
And I know I have a part in this. 
Because I wanted what I wanted. Wasn't thinking. 
And that is a really bad feeling. It really is.

But I thought that the things I wanted
were normal to want. 
Having what we wanted feels better
than not having what we wanted...
But is it really what we needed?
Or did we need to see that?

Like trying to use things to feel better.... 
Is because we want those things to make us feel better. 
Like the drinking and the smoking. 
Instead of learning how to feel better. 
Without the drinking and smoking... 
Without the booze and the drugs.... 

Been so tempting for me to relapse, though. 
What good would that do? Alter my state?
"Help" me feel okay for a little while?
Push me away from people who can't stand me when I'm drunk?
Push me away from the chances I have to learn more?
About why I even feel that need?
Feel any of the needs?

I mean, I guess we feel and have some needs. 

Been seeing where I went wrong.
It shakes me to my core.
Because I can't go back in time
and I didn't see any of this before. 
How I was failing so badly. 
When there were things that I was doing right, 
there was a lot I was doing wrong. 
But I couldn't see that. 

And I can't begin to tell anyone
how stupid I feel and how sh*tty it feels. 

And I'd get angry at people for trying to make me feel bad. 
When there were things I should have felt bad about. 
And things I shouldn't have done. 
And I guess that was a learned response
from people who got mad at me
instead of feeling bad about what they were doing to me
that they shouldn't have done. 

So I stopped bringing up things to them. 
Because they just got mad at me
and there was no way to get through to them. 

And there are many people like that. 
Who get mad instead of feeling bad. 
Because they can't handle feeling the regret
or the remorse or any of that. 
Like "How dare you make me care?"

But I guess I didn't care for so f*cking long. 
I was around people who didn't care. 
And even if they did care, they didn't care enough
to be aware of what they were doing, 
or what effect it was going to have later down the road. 

And it sucks that I didn't care. Because I should have. 
They should have, too. 
But they didn't, and I didn't. 
I had my priorities f*cked up. And that is no excuse. 

I still feel f*cking stupid. 
Because there are so many people
who have learned things that I didn't. 
And the ones who were teaching me, gave up on me. 
Because I f*cked it up, too. 
And I learned, though. 
Not to f*ck it up. 
But worrying that it'll be f*cked up
makes it f*cked up. 

And I can't explain that to anyone. 
Especially to those who were teaching me
because they'd just see it as I didn't care enough
about them teaching me not to f*ck it up. 
And it wasn't that I didn't care. 
I cared a lot about them teaching me. 
It was something I needed for a really long time. 

I was trying to get my life together. 
They were helping me do that. 
But I just kept f*cking up
and they were trying to help me fix things, 
but they did eventually give up. 

Because they think I just can't be helped. 
And yes I do have to help myself
and not just rely on their help. 

And not text them constantly
when I had questions or just wanted to talk to them. 
Because they have other things to do. 
And it didn't really matter to them what I'm going through
because they are going through their own stuff. 

I should have been trying to get my life together a long time ago. 
And I should have been around people who had their lives together. 
And I should have re-evaluated my thinking. 
And I wish I had people I could have talked to about a lot of stuff. 
Who would have listened and gave me practical advice. 

And I wish I wasn't so f*cking weak and stupid.
I feel pretty f*cking useless. Most of the time. 

Doing the wrong things for the right reasons. 
Doing the wrong things for no reason. Just f*cking up. 

I regret going to college. I regret starting drinking.
I regret so much, but I can't change any of the past. I can't. 

Can I be happy that I woke up enough to see what I was doing wrong?
Even though it took me too long to see it?
Even when I didn't want to listen to anyone
when they were trying to tell me?

When I didn't know what to do
even though I should have been doing something?
When there were things I couldn't see?
About myself? About other people?
About what I was doing?
About what I wasn't doing?

And things were done to me, but I think I turned out
not as f*cked up as I could have been. 

Thinking back to things, I think more was being done to me
than I can even remember. 

I had an interest in sex at an early age and I don't know why.
I remember knowing about masturbation
before my brother was born. He was born when I was 4.
So how did I learn about that?
I can't remember a lot of stuff. That bothers me. 

Even simple stuff from like months ago. 
Just memories gone. Chunks of time gone. 
And I think that has a lot to do with the drugs and drinking. 
Like the harder I try to remember something, 
the harder it is to remember it. 
And that is not a good sign. 

Some people can remember everything. 
Some things I wish I never knew. 
And I worked hard at trying to forget, but I can't. 

And I can understand how my son feels. About me. 
About how people think I'm just like my mother. 
And I always thought that my father's family
didn't want anything to do with me
because of that. Because of my mom. 

And how my son doesn't want to be like me, 
but he is a lot like me. 
He's a lot like his father, too. 

And I still don't want to give up on my son.
Even though he does not want me in his life. 
I can see how he looks at it, though. 
I did what I did because I care about him. 
But he thinks that I don't. 
Because of all the times I wasn't there. 
Even though I wanted to be there. 

And had I been there, more....
Maybe things might have turned out differently. 

It wasn't that I was never there. 
It was that I should have been there, more. 
And I should have been aware. I wasn't. 
I could have given my son a better life. 
Why didn't I? I was selfish to keep him. 
Thinking that I'd be a good mother. 
Thinking that his father would be a good father. 
Maybe good in some ways, but not in other ways. 
I'm not all bad, but not all good. 
I can admit that who I was as a 20 something
isn't who I am now. 

And my son's father is turning out to be someone
I thought I knew. Who I trusted with our son. 
And I could have tried to get him back. I wanted him back. 
I thought I couldn't get him back
and had asked him if he wanted to come back. 
He had told me once that he wanted to, 
but I didn't think I could get him back. 

He hasn't been there for him like he needed a father to be. 
And the CAS gave custody to his father. 
It wasn't my choice for him to have custody. 
Because I had custody and we were supposed to be sharing custody. 

And they could have placed him in their custody, but they didn't. 
And I guess they weren't checking up on his progress. 
Once he was placed in his dad's custody, 
there weren't any checks done, the case was closed. 

But nobody listened to me because I was 'crazy.'
And yes, I need help, too, but.... 
Nobody checked up on his father. 
He's not all bad, but I don't know how he's been
with my son behind closed doors. It was just them. 
No friends or anything, just them. 

And now I can't do anything for him, 
and he wants no contact with me. 
Says I'm dead to him etc. 

But I know he has issues because his father does
and I have had some, too. 

And I get it. People with issues shouldn't be having kids. 
I could have given my child up for adoption and I didn't. 
I could have not had sex. 
My son seems pretty angry at the fact he was even born. 
Because he didn't have the greatest life
he could have had. 
If it wasn't just him and his dad. 
If I hadn't been an alcoholic. 
If I hadn't had any addiction issues. 
If I had had my life together. 
The level of guilt is just.... Very hard to take. 

I had an alright life. It hasn't been a bed of roses. 
But I'm not hating the fact that I was born. 
Or hating my entire life. 
Maybe I am having issues accepting myself
because of everything that's been unacceptable.... 

And feeling that I missed my chances to do something
when I should have done something. 

And feeling like my son hates me for giving birth to him... 
That's a super sh*tty feeling.... 
I wasn't expecting to get pregnant.
And even then, I could have given him up. 

Been watching docs on some serious psych stuff. 
Been seeing my son in those. 
It's scary. I know he needs help. Therapy. 
And I don't know how to get him to want it
so that he'll do it. 
He'll be 18 in a month. 
And his father could just kick him out. 
He probaly won't, but he could. 
He already wants no contact with me
because I tried to get him help. 
That he didn't want. 
Even though he actually needs it. 
And the hospital just sent him home. 
Instead of putting him in treatment. 
Because it was up to his dad
and his dad doesn't realize the extent of it. 
Because he wasn't telling his dad. 
And the things his dad was saying to him
really wasn't helping him. At all. 

I had a child with a sociopath
who turned my child into a sociopath. 
All the while I didn't know. 
He hid it pretty well. 
But there were clues, I hadn't picked up.

And he hadn't really revealed a lot of things. 
He was very pessimistic and judgemental all the time. 
And that really brushed off on my son. 

All the while I felt that there was nothing I could do.
It was up to his father because he was given custody.
Maybe he had set it all up, I don't know.

And now, I don't know what will happen. 
Because it went from bad to worse. 
All the while I didn't know what to do. 
Told his dad. Tried getting him help. 
Tried to talk to him. Some sense into him. 
It's just... Really hard. 
And not saying something makes me somehow
responsible for whatever may happen
because I hadn't said anything, but I did. 

I told his father. I told the police. 
I told a few of my friends. 
And they don't know what to do. 

And there are programs out there. 
I heard about one, but it's for criminals. 
Like after something happens. 
There should be programs for teens. 
To prevent anything from happening. 
As a parent who doesn't have custody of him, 
I can only do as much as I'm allowed to do. 
Without his father's consent. 
And in a month, I will have no legal rights. 
To do anything. 
But I didn't know sooner. 
And there were things that I wish I had done. 
And things I hadn't done. 

And I feel like everything's my fault. 
For his father having custody. 
And for me losing custody. 
Even though I never signed my rights away, 
and it never went to court. 
It was just a decision made by them. Not by me. 
Not by a judge. 
And I felt like I had to go along with it. 
I could have gotten a lawyer. I didn't get one. 

I had no advocate for myself or for my son. 
Because we both had rights. 
And my rights to get my son help
is being blocked by him not wanting to get help
and his father not realizing that he needs help
and not listening to me about 
the things he's been telling me. 

Because nobody wants to see that their kid needs help. 
And they can only rely on the stupid doctors
to refer them to programs that only seem to be available
in some places for some people. 
Under certain circumstances.
What do the doctors do?
They put them on PILLS.
That f*ck with them. 
Like Zoloft. And the company that makes Zoloft.... 
Is supposedly going to be making a vaccine for covid?! 

And this is my life right now. 
So that is why I gave him an out. 
Because I need to KNOW 
that someone's REALLY in my corner. 
Because this isn't the average situation. 
This is when you know you f*cked up. 
Still want to have REAL friends. 

Your life's been upside down for 10 years.... 
Because you want to co-parent
with someone who won't co-parent
and then your kid starts saying disturbing things....
And now he's a legal adult in a month. 

And you're looking at all the times
that you needed help throughout this time...
and there was nobody in your corner. 
When I had one, I wanted to know if he still was. 

And if getting the cops to take him to the hospital
pissed him off, trying to get his dad
who won't listen to me to get him to
get his doctor to put him in a treatment program
is probably going to piss him off more, 
but he actually needs it. 
And probably needed it a few years ago. 
Maybe even 5 years ago, or sooner. 

But the treatment program isn't offered
in Ottawa, for one. 
It's only available for ciminals. 
The court puts them in it, not the doctors
and if the kid isn't going to the doctors
because the doctors aren't actually doing anything
except for putting them on drugs
then the kid doesn't get the help. 

And I feel frustrated as a parent. 
For not having more rights
than what the CAS gave me and his father gave me
and whatever f*cking stupid laws give me. 

And yes, my son has rights, too. 
Apparently not to seek help if he doesn't want it. 
Even though he needs it. 

And what am I supposed to do?
I don't have custody. 
Neither of us will have custody in a month. 
And I can't convince his father to get him help
and I can't even speak to him right now
because he's not speaking to me. 
Because I tried to get him help 
when he didn't want me to. 

Shouldn't CAS have been checking in?
And kept the case open?

But yes, a child is the parents' responsibility. 
When one parent is deemed more responsible
than the other parent
and the other parent is gradually shut out of the picture.... 
What is the other parent supposed to do?
Keep trying to contact the child?
Still try to be a part of the child's life?
I was, until I tried to get him help that he didn't want.
And he's upset with me about it. I can see why. 
But I am seriously running out of options. 
Now that I don't have contact with my son. 
Or his father.

And should we have just stayed together?
And should I have put my child up for adoption?
And should I have been having sex at 14?
Or known about masturbation at 4 years old?

His father's upset, too.
I really needed a strategy, one that would work. 
I should have done the right thing at the beginning.

And I'm not the only parent that's gone through this. 
Got f*cked over by the system
and f*cked themselves over. 
But I blame myself. I really f*cking blame myself, 
but it's like I'm the only one who sees it. 
For how bad it has gotten. 
And it's my f*cking fault. 

My friends tell me that all I can do is live my life. 
How can I? Knowing that something could happen
because my son needed help a long time ago?

My son could wake the f*ck up when he's older....
Or his beliefs could really be f*cked up right now. 
I tried talking to him about the things he told me. 
Some of it... I don't know what to say. 

His dad probably just yelled at him for telling me.
Because he doesn't like to be bothered about issues. 
And yelling at him about it isn't doing anything about it. 

And what are you going to do about how his father's handling it?
By handling it by getting a 'professional'
to talk to your son. Right?

But I didn't have his father's consent. 
Or my son's consent. 
And because of that neither of them will talk to me. 

So my friends tell me there's nothing I can do. 
That I just have to live my life. 
And stop trying to contact them...
That I can't hold his hand through everything. 
That I have to let him become an adult. 
Even though I know the extent of some issues he has. 
Maybe not even the full extent. 

And somehow I have to be okay with this. I'm not. 
Like I'm supposed to be okay
with the limited access I had to my kid. 
And no access now. 

And the full access my ex has. 
When he isn't doing what has to be done
medically for him. 
And what he's done to make things worse.
And the things I did that added to it. 

And despite everything that happened to me, 
I still have turned out pretty well. 
Not as well adjusted as a lot of other people, 
but I probably could have been worse
and was worse at some times of my life. 

And I know how bad alcohol is, now. 
But I can't blame everything on that, 
because it was me who went for it. 
When I had a chance never to touch it again. 
When I had a chance to do a lot of things. 
So a lot of it was my fault. If not all of it. 

My son could still have mad different choices, too.
He could have told me things a lot sooner. 
He could have wanted to get help. 
He was crying out for help in some ways, 
but I couldn't see it. 
And I can't put the responsibility on him. 
He couldn't handle what he's been through. 
Still can't. And I can't talk it out with him now. 
I can hope someone does. 
I've had some help along the way. 
I started getting help as an adult. 
I still need to get more help. 

I can't just keep asking friends for help. 

My son might not talk to anyone about stuff. 
He won't talk to me anymore. 
That was the one thing we had,
that I ruined by getting scared. 
And trying to do something about it. 

What he told me, scared me. 
Still does. 
Now that he's not talking to me anymore, 
it scares me even more. 

And I can't talk to my friends about this. 
I can't talk to anyone about this. 

And all of this was my fault to begin with. 
But I didn't think it would get this way. 
I didn't think it'd be this way. 
Or that I was the way I was, but I was. 
Or that his father was the way he was, but he was. 

There was a lot I didn't know. 
A lot I didn't think about. 
And that's no excuse.