Without the Answers

Before I place a word down, I feel like I need the answers. I can sometimes vomit emotions and irrational thoughts and fears into my journal, but the perfectionist in me feels the need to find the solution before I can put the problem down in words. I am afraid of sounding negative, needy, desperate, and/or crazy. Correction: I’m afraid that a reader somewhere will find out that I am all those things. So I hold myself back from writing and my lack of posts and journal entries proves how few answers I have.

Today I found myself defeated by 8:30am. I was in tears by about 10am. The day felt completely lost, unredeemable. I decided I have four options:

  1. Run away. I debated this…unsure of where I would go. Sleeping in my van would totally cut it for a night or two, but we are nearing the end of Oct. in Minnesota and I think my contact solution would freeze. And me.
  2. Find out I have a fatal disease, not tell my family, refuse treatment. Die. This sounds dramatic and insensitive to people actually facing fatal diseases, of whom I am not one. Option tabled for the time-being.
  3. Hate my life, my family, my situation.
  4. Quit caring. Step back from all the things I can’t seem to control (though I think 10 year old children should be in the category of things I should at least partially control), give up for the day.

So option four it is. I feel hopeless, I feel frustrated, I feel angry. I may have offered God some ultimatums (for which I promptly apologized, but then said, “But really, God… I can’t go on like this!”). Today I had to choose to give up on parenting, homeschooling, and discipling my difficult child. It is so contrary to what we are told we should do. How often I have wanted to say, “I give up on this child! I give up on parenting!” but either someone close to me or I talk myself down from this ledge. Today I decided that standing on that ledge is the very best I can do. For today. I hope that tomorrow is a fresh start, but today I have to quit. Choosing to not care for today is the best I can do. I have beat myself up for years and have allowed myself to place the blame on my shoulders. Today I hear my other child say she is frustrated dealing with the same stuff that I’m frustrated dealing with. I see myself in a crazy cycle with no interruption and no respite. So for today, I quit. Maybe I’ll still be “quit” tomorrow, too, but today I’m resting in the knowledge that it’s all I have.


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