I realized a long time ago that my bedroom is a physical representation of how things are in my life. And it's a mess right now.
My daughter was stepped down from Residential treatment last Tuesday to Partial. In Partial treatment, you go to the treatment center eight hours a day, six days a week. (For more information about how the mental health system works, see this posting.) The treatment center is about 50 miles from my home and with traffic, can take three hours one way. After the first day of driving out there to pick her up, I knew this was not going to work. So I packed up and stayed in a hotel out near the center for four days. We are hoping to step her down to IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program) tomorrow, which is three hours a day, three days a week and, hopefully, at a facility a bit closer to my home.
During the month or so that my daughter was in residential treatment, life returned to "normal" for me. Actually quieter than normal since my son is no longer here during the week. I finally cleaned up my room and closet, paid the huge stack of bills that had been sitting untouched since all this started, even finished a couple of projects that I had not been able to get to before. I did not feel the need to go to Al Anon meetings and stopped reading my daily meditations. And I stopped blogging.
Both kids were home this weekend, the first time in a month. My bedroom has become our "hub." We watch our Saturday night movie in here while eating pizza, as evidenced by dishes left behind. My daughter has been working on some craft projects at my coffee table and all the supplies are still out. Laundry is mounded on my bed, waiting to be folded. File folders that I ransacked earlier in the week are piled high on my desk.
My room is a mess, and not for negative reasons, but it is still a mess. It still needs to be cleaned up.
Today, while my daughter is gone most of the day for her last Partial treatment day, I will work on cleaning up my room both physically and metaphorically. As I clean up after my kids, I will think about how to teach them the discipline to clean up after themselves. And as I put away the laundry and the files, I will work on a plan to bring discipline back into my own life.
Time to establish a new "normal."
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Monday, September 12, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
leaving it in God's hands
There are only a handful of people in my religious community and my daughter's academic community who know about what is going on. One question that has come up frequently from people who are associated with the school is, "Who did she do drugs with?"
I struggle with what my answer should be. In the letter that my daughter wrote me when she entered rehab, she named names. Some of the kids are still attending that school. I assume the "right" thing to do is to turn over the names to people in authority and yet, something holds me back.
When I first learned about the drug use, I was desperate to protect my daughter; to make sure she never associated with her suppliers ever again. And so I asked her who she used with and promised never to tell anyone who they were. She gave me one name at that time, of a guy who was not returning to the school. I found that highly suspicious. In the letter the list is much longer.
On the one hand, I am reluctant to tell anyone because of the promise I made her, even though it is one I made in desperation. I feel like, if we are to have any hope of building trust, I must keep my word. On the other hand, I am fearful of what people's motivations are for asking me for the names or what they will do with the information.
My pastors and one of my closest friends who happens to work at the school have asked me to share the names so that they can help in their professional capacities. I believe these are the people who should know and I will encourage my daughter to tell them, herself, one day.
I struggle when other people ask, especially other parents. I understand the desire to want to protect your child. If someone knew my daughter was using, I would have wanted them to tell me. And yet, I still hold back.
I hate the thought that this might become gossip, serving no purpose than to make the gossiper feel self-righteous.
I am fearful that another family will be hurt by well-intentioned but clueless others.
And the last thing I want is to launch a crusader who feels they must now save us poor sinners.
I've decided the best thing for me to do right now is to trust that God will reveal to people what they need to know and when they need to know it. And to follow the Al-Anon principle of anonymity. Drug use is no one's business but that of the user and the people who love them. If God gives me the opportunity to share with the parents of one of the kids on the list, I will, and with no one else.
I struggle with what my answer should be. In the letter that my daughter wrote me when she entered rehab, she named names. Some of the kids are still attending that school. I assume the "right" thing to do is to turn over the names to people in authority and yet, something holds me back.
When I first learned about the drug use, I was desperate to protect my daughter; to make sure she never associated with her suppliers ever again. And so I asked her who she used with and promised never to tell anyone who they were. She gave me one name at that time, of a guy who was not returning to the school. I found that highly suspicious. In the letter the list is much longer.
On the one hand, I am reluctant to tell anyone because of the promise I made her, even though it is one I made in desperation. I feel like, if we are to have any hope of building trust, I must keep my word. On the other hand, I am fearful of what people's motivations are for asking me for the names or what they will do with the information.
My pastors and one of my closest friends who happens to work at the school have asked me to share the names so that they can help in their professional capacities. I believe these are the people who should know and I will encourage my daughter to tell them, herself, one day.
I struggle when other people ask, especially other parents. I understand the desire to want to protect your child. If someone knew my daughter was using, I would have wanted them to tell me. And yet, I still hold back.
I hate the thought that this might become gossip, serving no purpose than to make the gossiper feel self-righteous.
I am fearful that another family will be hurt by well-intentioned but clueless others.
And the last thing I want is to launch a crusader who feels they must now save us poor sinners.
I've decided the best thing for me to do right now is to trust that God will reveal to people what they need to know and when they need to know it. And to follow the Al-Anon principle of anonymity. Drug use is no one's business but that of the user and the people who love them. If God gives me the opportunity to share with the parents of one of the kids on the list, I will, and with no one else.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
a word (or 900) about shame
On Sunday I went to visit my daughter for the first time since she was admitted to Rehab. She is so full of hope, it was wonderful to see. She was talking about finishing up high school in two years, maybe taking some college classes and working on a singing career. She told me things she had learned about drug addiction, particularly to hard drugs like cocaine and heroine. She had experienced things that she was afraid to tell me about before (like having visual and auditory hallucinations during withdrawal) but that she learned were normal. And she never wants to go through those things again.
She is also learning about eating disorders. Her therapist told her that kids who develop ED have had control issues starting from a very young age, things that happen when they were so young and are buried so deep that sometimes they never uncover them. My daughter talked about when we first moved into our own home without her father (she was just a couple of months shy of turning nine). I used to travel about one week a month for work and my daughter would call me several times a day when I was gone. She told me that she used to be so afraid when I travelled that I wouldn't come home, that I would die in an accident or plane crash.
I suppose I should have realized how stressed my daughter was when she was younger, but I was wrapped up in my own issues and did not see what was happening. I thought that, because I was leaving her in the care of her father and her grandparents whenever I went out of town, that she was fine. Plus, she was always such an easy child, even as a baby. I used to joke about how she would switch so easily between breastfeeding and bottle, as compared to her brother who was much more difficult. He refused to go back and forth between feeding methods so we switched to just bottle-feeding when he was just two weeks.
My daughter was not a child who threw tantrums; the "terrible twos" never happened with her. But during those last few years of my marriage, when things were at their absolute worst, she threw a couple of major, screaming, throwing herself on the floor, kicking tantrums. The first was when she was in first grade, at school (while I was on a business trip). When her teacher asked her why she was so upset (she was probably 5 at the time), my daughter replied that she was "afraid her mom wasn't going to come home." When the teacher asked if she was afraid something would happen to me, my daughter replied, no, that she was just afraid I wouldn't come home. The second tantrum happened about a year later, when the kids and I took a trip at Christmastime without their father for the first time. She had no recollection of either of these incidents.
We talked about what happened and I explained that I didn't think the problem was that I was gone so much but that I was so unhappy during her early years. When she was about 5 or 6, she overheard me talking with a friend on the phone and I laughed out loud at something the other person said. When I hung up, my daughter marveled at hearing me laugh out loud; she had never heard that before. And when I watch videos of myself from when the kids were young, I am mainly a solemn presence in the background, interacting only when someone speaks to me directly.
At the last Al-Anon meeting that I went to, the leader chose shame as the topic for the evening. A few parents (who have young children) shared what life was like before they came to Al-Anon, when they were consumed with trying to control the adult alcoholic in their life. They spoke with great shame and regret about how they were not present and available for their children emotionally. On the flip side, when adult children of alcoholics talk, they often share about how they felt like everything that went wrong was their own fault. That if they had just behaved better, their parent would not have drunk or (or did drugs or let life spiral out of control).
I think that shame and guilt are useless feelings, tools of the devil to keep us from where we could be. They lead to embarassment and the need to keep secrets. As my daughter told me about her fears and wondered aloud why she had control issues, I suppose I could have stayed silent. Let shame and embarrassment about being such a sad and absent mother (both physically and emotionallly) keep me from telling her what she needed to hear. But truthfully, since I am neither ashamed nor do I feel guilty, it came out very naturally, very matter-of-factly. It's just how things were back then and there is nothing I can do to go back and change them.
I think I saw a light come on in my daughter's eyes when she realized that there were things going on that she didn't understand, that had nothing to do with her, but that she took responsibility for and internalized at that young age.
We're having our first therapy session together on Friday and my daughter asked that I tell the therapist all that we talked about, in case she didn't remember to bring them up herself. And I will.
She is also learning about eating disorders. Her therapist told her that kids who develop ED have had control issues starting from a very young age, things that happen when they were so young and are buried so deep that sometimes they never uncover them. My daughter talked about when we first moved into our own home without her father (she was just a couple of months shy of turning nine). I used to travel about one week a month for work and my daughter would call me several times a day when I was gone. She told me that she used to be so afraid when I travelled that I wouldn't come home, that I would die in an accident or plane crash.
I suppose I should have realized how stressed my daughter was when she was younger, but I was wrapped up in my own issues and did not see what was happening. I thought that, because I was leaving her in the care of her father and her grandparents whenever I went out of town, that she was fine. Plus, she was always such an easy child, even as a baby. I used to joke about how she would switch so easily between breastfeeding and bottle, as compared to her brother who was much more difficult. He refused to go back and forth between feeding methods so we switched to just bottle-feeding when he was just two weeks.
My daughter was not a child who threw tantrums; the "terrible twos" never happened with her. But during those last few years of my marriage, when things were at their absolute worst, she threw a couple of major, screaming, throwing herself on the floor, kicking tantrums. The first was when she was in first grade, at school (while I was on a business trip). When her teacher asked her why she was so upset (she was probably 5 at the time), my daughter replied that she was "afraid her mom wasn't going to come home." When the teacher asked if she was afraid something would happen to me, my daughter replied, no, that she was just afraid I wouldn't come home. The second tantrum happened about a year later, when the kids and I took a trip at Christmastime without their father for the first time. She had no recollection of either of these incidents.
We talked about what happened and I explained that I didn't think the problem was that I was gone so much but that I was so unhappy during her early years. When she was about 5 or 6, she overheard me talking with a friend on the phone and I laughed out loud at something the other person said. When I hung up, my daughter marveled at hearing me laugh out loud; she had never heard that before. And when I watch videos of myself from when the kids were young, I am mainly a solemn presence in the background, interacting only when someone speaks to me directly.
At the last Al-Anon meeting that I went to, the leader chose shame as the topic for the evening. A few parents (who have young children) shared what life was like before they came to Al-Anon, when they were consumed with trying to control the adult alcoholic in their life. They spoke with great shame and regret about how they were not present and available for their children emotionally. On the flip side, when adult children of alcoholics talk, they often share about how they felt like everything that went wrong was their own fault. That if they had just behaved better, their parent would not have drunk or (or did drugs or let life spiral out of control).
I think that shame and guilt are useless feelings, tools of the devil to keep us from where we could be. They lead to embarassment and the need to keep secrets. As my daughter told me about her fears and wondered aloud why she had control issues, I suppose I could have stayed silent. Let shame and embarrassment about being such a sad and absent mother (both physically and emotionallly) keep me from telling her what she needed to hear. But truthfully, since I am neither ashamed nor do I feel guilty, it came out very naturally, very matter-of-factly. It's just how things were back then and there is nothing I can do to go back and change them.
I think I saw a light come on in my daughter's eyes when she realized that there were things going on that she didn't understand, that had nothing to do with her, but that she took responsibility for and internalized at that young age.
We're having our first therapy session together on Friday and my daughter asked that I tell the therapist all that we talked about, in case she didn't remember to bring them up herself. And I will.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
understanding the first step
"We admitted that we are powerless over alcohol -
that our lives had become unmanageable."
that our lives had become unmanageable."
AA/Al-Anon Step 1
As I mentioned in a previous post, I am struggling with the First Step. I sit in the Al-Anon meetings and I can see why this is such an important step for other people. Wives are lying for their alcoholic spouses, to their families, to his job, to herself. Parents are spending all their time and energy (and money) trying to get their kids clean. Adults who grew up in alcoholic homes spend their lives trying to gain or maintain control and/or learn to trust another human being and themselves. Their whole life is about covering up and centered on the addict.
None of these people are me. While I admit that I have had to spend a lot of time, energy and money this past month, I have still managed to connect with friends, to write and journal, and to take time for myself. I am managing to keep a cap on my medical costs (thanks in no small part to my health insurance). I feel like I have not gone completely crazy yet. (Although I suppose one of the hallmarks of being crazy is not knowing that you are.)
I've been reading a few paragraphs of Paths to Recovery: Al-Anon's Steps, Traditions, and Concepts every morning. This is a book that explains each of the Steps, Traditions, and Concepts in detail and explains how to work them. I am slowly beginning to understand that Step 1 is so much deeper than the words, on their surface, would lead you believe.
"The first word of the First Step illustrates an important concept to Al-Anon recovery: We are not alone....We who live or have lived with the problem of [addiction] understand as perhaps few others can. We, too, were lonely and frustrated, but in Al-Anon/Alateen we discover that no situation is really hopeless and that it is possible for us to find contentment, and even happiness, whether the [addict] is still [using] or not. Just hearing those words may help us to feel that there is hope for us, too." (p. 7)
This is why you can find an Al-Anon meeting in almost every city, almost every night of the week. There aren't very many parents of addicted teenagers at the Al-Anon meetings that I have attended, but I have really been comforted by the few that I have heard share their stories. Some of the most comforting things I learned were that 1) it is not uncommon for kids to begin using in Junior High because that period of transition is so stressful for them and 2) Most of these parents - loving, involved, concerned, middle class parents like me - did not know or recognize that their kids were using until the problem became so out of control that their child could not hide it anymore and 3) everything I am feeling and going through is exactly what other parents are feeling and going through. Now I truly believe that I am not alone in this.
" [Addiction] is a family disease. This means '...the [addiction] of one member affects the whole family, and all become sick. Why does this happen? Unlike diabetes, [addiction] not only exists inside the body of the [addict], but is a disease of relationships as well. Many of the symptoms of [addiction] are in the behavior of the [addict]. The people who are involved with the [addict] react to his behavior. They try to control it, make up for it, or hide it. They often blame themselves for it and are hurt by it. Eventually they become emotionally disturbed themselves.' (Alateen - Hope for Children of Alcoholics) " p. 8
I see the truth of this paragraph when I look at my relationship with my daughter's father, my ex-husband. I think he and I have argued more in the past month than we did in the nine years we were married. Normally, we get along ok and work together to try to do what is best for the kids. But the issues around her addiction and the decisions about treatment have put us completely at odds with each other.
"In Al-Anon we discover principles that work for us and help us to relate to others. Al-Anon helps us learn new ways to have healthy relationships in all areas of our lives. Step One reminds us of our proper relationship with others - we are powerless over them. It places us in correct relationship with ourselves - when we try to control others, we lose the ability to manage our own lives. Step One is the true beginning of our path to recovery." (p. 10)
I am powerless over my daughter.
I am powerless over my ex-husband.
I am powerless over addiction.
When I spend my time and energy trying to change those three things, I do not have time and energy for those things that I do have control (mainly myself) and *MY* life becomes unmanageable. It is now, in this new light, that I take the First Step.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
lest you think I am a cold-hearted b****
After re-reading my last posting, I thought, "Geez, I sound like a cold-hearted b****." I feel like I should give a little background.
I was terrified at the thought of my daughter coming home.
Before she was hospitalized (and before I knew about the drug activity), my daughter had been difficult, to say the least. She was sullen, sneaking around, not doing her chores or homework. She had hacked into my laptop and was skyping with a boy late at night doing God-knows-what. I was constantly having to get on her about not making us late for appointments. I had asked her to try to find a job but she didn't. She just sat and watched tv most days so I cancelled all but the most basic broadcast channels. Then she spent all her time in her room listening to music and sitting around. She raided her savings account (money she absolutely was not supposed to touch) and bought a disposable cell phone and was spending time talking and texting when she said she was doing other things. And when she would get angry, she would storm out of the house (but she always returned 10-30 minutes later.)
I dreaded the thought of her coming home from the hopsital. I could just imagine her sneaking out, hooking up with her drug friends (and I had no idea who they might be), bringing drugs home. I dreaded the arguments, having to watch her sit around, and being ignored when I tried to get her to meet her responsibilities. Child Protective Services (CPS) had opened up a case on us based on things she told the Emergency Dept. when she was admitted for the suicide attempt and a social worker had already been to my home once. The last thing I wanted to was to have an open and on-going case with CPS as a neglectful parent. I felt helpless.
When I found out my daughter was being discharged, I called the CPS social worker and I think he was surprised to hear from me. (I suspect most parents try to avoid dealing with CPS again once they have been investigated but that's just speculation on my part.) I asked him, legally, what is my responsibility if my daughter a) does drugs , b) runs away, or c) tries to hurt herself. The answer on all counts was to call the police, make sure they file a report, and let them take her away.
Legal issues aside, I have the privilege of providing a home for my parents. They live with me. If it were just me, I could deal with losing my house, bankruptcy and whatever else came my way. The children's father makes a decent living and would have been able to take over their care full-time. But my parents are retired, on a limited income and buying or even renting a new home is not an option for them. And while I have siblings who would welcome our parents into their homes, they live with me now.
Finally, I don't believe teenagers can anticipate the full consequences of their actions. I felt my daughter needed to understand that her doing drugs was not just about her. I wanted to spell things out for her so that they were crystal clear.
Thankfully, none of those things were necessary during the two or so weeks between discharge from the hospital and admission to the Residential treatment center.
I was terrified at the thought of my daughter coming home.
Before she was hospitalized (and before I knew about the drug activity), my daughter had been difficult, to say the least. She was sullen, sneaking around, not doing her chores or homework. She had hacked into my laptop and was skyping with a boy late at night doing God-knows-what. I was constantly having to get on her about not making us late for appointments. I had asked her to try to find a job but she didn't. She just sat and watched tv most days so I cancelled all but the most basic broadcast channels. Then she spent all her time in her room listening to music and sitting around. She raided her savings account (money she absolutely was not supposed to touch) and bought a disposable cell phone and was spending time talking and texting when she said she was doing other things. And when she would get angry, she would storm out of the house (but she always returned 10-30 minutes later.)
I dreaded the thought of her coming home from the hopsital. I could just imagine her sneaking out, hooking up with her drug friends (and I had no idea who they might be), bringing drugs home. I dreaded the arguments, having to watch her sit around, and being ignored when I tried to get her to meet her responsibilities. Child Protective Services (CPS) had opened up a case on us based on things she told the Emergency Dept. when she was admitted for the suicide attempt and a social worker had already been to my home once. The last thing I wanted to was to have an open and on-going case with CPS as a neglectful parent. I felt helpless.
When I found out my daughter was being discharged, I called the CPS social worker and I think he was surprised to hear from me. (I suspect most parents try to avoid dealing with CPS again once they have been investigated but that's just speculation on my part.) I asked him, legally, what is my responsibility if my daughter a) does drugs , b) runs away, or c) tries to hurt herself. The answer on all counts was to call the police, make sure they file a report, and let them take her away.
Legal issues aside, I have the privilege of providing a home for my parents. They live with me. If it were just me, I could deal with losing my house, bankruptcy and whatever else came my way. The children's father makes a decent living and would have been able to take over their care full-time. But my parents are retired, on a limited income and buying or even renting a new home is not an option for them. And while I have siblings who would welcome our parents into their homes, they live with me now.
Finally, I don't believe teenagers can anticipate the full consequences of their actions. I felt my daughter needed to understand that her doing drugs was not just about her. I wanted to spell things out for her so that they were crystal clear.
Thankfully, none of those things were necessary during the two or so weeks between discharge from the hospital and admission to the Residential treatment center.
sending a clear message
Last night I went to an Al Anon meeting and one of the members shared how she had lost her house because she spent so much money on rehab for her son. It reminded me of a tough conversation I had with my daughter.
*** I've debated writing about this and am still not sure I should. When I started this blog, I decided I wanted to be honest and open about what we are going through. I don't put this out there as some kind of example and I'm sure people will think I was horribly wrong for what I said. But I'm putting it out there anyway.***
The day that I picked up my daughter when she was discharged from the hospital, I said "Things are very different in the house now." She replied, "I'm sure they are."
I told her,
You have a clean slate with me beginning today but make no mistake:
I find out you are using drugs again and I will turn you over to the police myself.
If I find drugs in my house, I will call the police and turn them and you over and let them take you away.
I will not allow myself to be arrested because you use drugs.
If you get arrested for drug use, I will not bail you out nor will I hire a lawyer for you.
If you end up needing hospitalization again, you will not be going back to a nice cushy private hospital. I will drop you in the county system so fast and leave you there.
If you step outside the front door without me or another responsible adult with you, I will call the police and report you as a runaway and let them take you.
I am not going to go broke trying to keep you clean.
I am not going to lose my house and become homeless because of you. I am not going to let [your grandparents] and your brother become homeless because of you.
I have rules in my house and if you do not follow them, I don't know what I will do but there will be grave consequences. I do not like to make idle threats, which is why I cannot say what I will do, but there will be consequences and you won't like them.
I love you and as long as you are doing what you are supposed to be doing, which is going to treatment, going to meetings, actually working the 12 steps, I will keep a roof over your head, drive you where you need to go, and pay your medical bills.
But the moment you stop going, the moment you stop participating and working on getting better, I will stop paying the bills. You can find another place to live.
And when you decide to become clean again, and abide by my rules, then you will always be welcome back home.
*** I've debated writing about this and am still not sure I should. When I started this blog, I decided I wanted to be honest and open about what we are going through. I don't put this out there as some kind of example and I'm sure people will think I was horribly wrong for what I said. But I'm putting it out there anyway.***
The day that I picked up my daughter when she was discharged from the hospital, I said "Things are very different in the house now." She replied, "I'm sure they are."
I told her,
You have a clean slate with me beginning today but make no mistake:
I find out you are using drugs again and I will turn you over to the police myself.
If I find drugs in my house, I will call the police and turn them and you over and let them take you away.
I will not allow myself to be arrested because you use drugs.
If you get arrested for drug use, I will not bail you out nor will I hire a lawyer for you.
If you end up needing hospitalization again, you will not be going back to a nice cushy private hospital. I will drop you in the county system so fast and leave you there.
If you step outside the front door without me or another responsible adult with you, I will call the police and report you as a runaway and let them take you.
I am not going to go broke trying to keep you clean.
I am not going to lose my house and become homeless because of you. I am not going to let [your grandparents] and your brother become homeless because of you.
I have rules in my house and if you do not follow them, I don't know what I will do but there will be grave consequences. I do not like to make idle threats, which is why I cannot say what I will do, but there will be consequences and you won't like them.
I love you and as long as you are doing what you are supposed to be doing, which is going to treatment, going to meetings, actually working the 12 steps, I will keep a roof over your head, drive you where you need to go, and pay your medical bills.
But the moment you stop going, the moment you stop participating and working on getting better, I will stop paying the bills. You can find another place to live.
And when you decide to become clean again, and abide by my rules, then you will always be welcome back home.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
seeing the brother in a whole new light
I am really concerned about my son. He was home with us these last several days and I am afraid he is becoming resentful with all that is going on. There have been so many changes in these last few weeks and he is a kid who does not like change. He just learned yesterday that he will not be returning to the school that he has gone to for the last six years. He was visibly upset but didn't say much about it. While he was here this week, I split most of my time between my job and his sister. I don't recall doing much of anything with him and I am very sad about that. I am afraid his anger is building up. He is off to his dad's house for a few days and I hope that they will get some quality time together.
I am seeing the story of the Prodigal son in a whole new light, from the perspective of the brother who stayed home and felt unappreciated. My son is not complaining, but I suspect he feels a lot of the same emotions and rightly so. Usually when the story is told, the brother is portrayed as being bad or wrong for feeling resentment and telling his father how he felt. We are made to feel as if we should only feel joy that the prodigal returned and feeling anything else makes us bad people. I'll never look at this story in the same way again.
I realize our best chance for dealing with our resentments, anger and for finding balance is to go to therapy. I've been very lax about finding a family therapist outside of my daughter's treatment. I called several when this all started but none of them were able to see us at that time. I will pick up that search again on Monday.
I am seeing the story of the Prodigal son in a whole new light, from the perspective of the brother who stayed home and felt unappreciated. My son is not complaining, but I suspect he feels a lot of the same emotions and rightly so. Usually when the story is told, the brother is portrayed as being bad or wrong for feeling resentment and telling his father how he felt. We are made to feel as if we should only feel joy that the prodigal returned and feeling anything else makes us bad people. I'll never look at this story in the same way again.
I realize our best chance for dealing with our resentments, anger and for finding balance is to go to therapy. I've been very lax about finding a family therapist outside of my daughter's treatment. I called several when this all started but none of them were able to see us at that time. I will pick up that search again on Monday.
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