There is one thing I am certain of when it comes to being an Adult Child of Divorce.
When you realize that there really are other people out there who also have ALL these emotions, imagine the same outrageous thoughts, feel the wrath of itchy skin, get very heavy boots, fill buckets of tears, imagine crashing cars into trees, are tempted into throwing dishes, sob to no one in public bathroom stalls, take their anger out on cuddly bunny rabbits and become mini-monsters, have lost the meaning of trust, have found the meaning of anger and have questioned the very essence of life, you actually start to feel a little better.
I guess it's good to know we're not alone. I thought I was alone, and a lunatic, but now I know I'm not. I say, what better way to learn this for yourself than to cyber-forum-discuss it with complete strangers from around the globe? Exactly! Once again, my geniusness will better the world.
I hope this forum will give readers a chance to talk about the issues that they choose, instead of leaving it to me to ramble on about my horribly wretched life. Not to worry though, I will still be bantering on about Me Me Me on my home page, but this is your chance to talk about you.
Welcome to my Feeling Super Barefoot Forum!
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When you realize that there really are other people out there who also have ALL these emotions, imagine the same outrageous thoughts, feel the wrath of itchy skin, get very heavy boots, fill buckets of tears, imagine crashing cars into trees, are tempted into throwing dishes, sob to no one in public bathroom stalls, take their anger out on cuddly bunny rabbits and become mini-monsters, have lost the meaning of trust, have found the meaning of anger and have questioned the very essence of life, you actually start to feel a little better.
I guess it's good to know we're not alone. I thought I was alone, and a lunatic, but now I know I'm not. I say, what better way to learn this for yourself than to cyber-forum-discuss it with complete strangers from around the globe? Exactly! Once again, my geniusness will better the world.
I hope this forum will give readers a chance to talk about the issues that they choose, instead of leaving it to me to ramble on about my horribly wretched life. Not to worry though, I will still be bantering on about Me Me Me on my home page, but this is your chance to talk about you.
Welcome to my Feeling Super Barefoot Forum!
Feeling Super Barefoot... As a child I liked to run barefoot through the grass and feel the cool, soft, tickly sensation. It brings back feelings of freedom, enjoyment and innocence.
ReplyDeleteThere must have come a time when that changed , because I really don't like to go barefoot anymore. It has been years. Once in a while I do take my sandals off and step around my yard, but the feeling is different. Something changed. I cannot recall a specific event, but I have a feeling that one day I stepped onto a nail, or a sharp thorn, or a yucky bug or something. My freedom and enjoyment was challenged, and my innocence was gone. Grass can actually hold things that feel bad. In an effort to avoid more of that, I must have stopped going super barefoot.
Tali has given me gracious invitation on her forum to write a bit about my experience. All the feelings about parents and family and siblings and grief have been strangely familiar, as I read her blog and others posts.
But, I don't know of others who share one of the most deep pains of the process of dealing with parents divorce when it comes to explaining it to children. "Son, I need to tell you something...your grandparents , whom you love dearly and have been there for almost 2 decades of your life, are divorcing , due to your grandfather's continued infidelity"...... now those were not the exact words I used, in fact, I could not use words. I wrote my son who lived at home a letter. I knew I could never say what I wanted to . I sat him down and read the letter to him. We both cried and I watched him mourn and grieve and try to be strong for ME, the next several months. I waited for my other son to finish his college semester. I didnt' want the news to ruin his finals. As soon as my husband picked him up, I spoke with him on the phone and read him "the letter" so I made sure I said what I wanted to. I needed him to know all this before he stepped in the door, and he could process it with his father on the ride home.
A parent wanting to protect their children. That was me. I hated to see them experience pain and wrong and although I hate the experience that myself, there is nothing worse than watching your child go through a difficult time. I wished I could take all the pain and not have to share it with them. But their childhood innocence ( although not completely perfect as late teens), was taken away to a greater extent those days. And the loss was the doing of someone we all loved ,....and family....
I watched my sons grieve. I grieved. I tried to talk about it at times, knowing that is good, but I could hardly talk without crying , which made them terribly uncomfortable. I told them of things I was learning in counseling and urged them to do the same. I urged them to be truthful and to not lie and to keep commitments.
I tried to figure out what to tell them of what i knew. Enough to process, not too much to ruin their remaining trust in any shred of goodness in humanity.
The struggle continues. I pray that God turns something good out of this bad situation. I hope I have wisdom to know how to help my sons deal with this as time progresses, and wisdom to know when to let them to learning the lessons on their own.
They see their mother cry less often. They hear the old laughter from their mother that was gone for years. They know healing does happen.
But I am still so sorry for their legacy and their pain. I guess they found out that the grass had yucky , sharp, hurtful things in it, too. I just did not want them to find out in this way.
Hopefully as life continues, we can all take our sandals off again and run through the grass, without trying to protect ourselves or others. But for now, I will keep my flip flops on !
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