When Is It Time

 20 years ago, my son left California to find a better future than what he saw ahead of him here. He ended up in Utah. And now he is back, a troubled young man, an alcoholic.

I knew he drank; I knew he had relationship problems. The depth of issues was hidden from me (and I probably had my head in the sand, not wanting to know) Traci knew, she told Bill; the girlfriend shared with her pretty much everything.

So, after his girlfriend kicked him out, he has come home. Because Traci knew what was going on, she was farther ahead emotionally. The drinking, the narcissist relationship that has gone on for years, and by what it sounds like, is still going on, even though they have said the words, we are not together right now.

I listen to what Traci says, but she doesn't understand that I didn't have time to process, didn't get to have that knowledge to prepare, to I'm supposed to just jump in be ready to handle everything. Not to take things personally. She had Zach, she has had her work background to lay foundation.  Let him do his thing this is how he wants to handle it.  I'm lost, Im being the mother I am. That's the only way I know right now.

She wants communication, transparency, but when I try to voice it. It's ignored; but now, interesting, now that he broke her rule about not drinking at her house she talks about frustration, taking things personally. Yes, that's what I'm trying to say.

When is it time:

To say you are hurting yourself, me?

You are slowly killing yourself?

You aren't hiding anything? We know it's not water. 

She is not the person you fell in love with with?

She kicked you out, why does she keep calling?

When will he start to resent me for loving him without asking for anything back?

I've already tried to explain myself. I'm his mother first, he is part of this family, I'm so sorry you didn't have that, but you are part of this family. We don't yell, argue or get physical. There's no need, just talk to us.  But he is still in that mental mode, waiting, ready to be berated, someone to tell him he's a mess. We don't barge into rooms, we might not show it openly, but we love fiercely. We see he needs mental help, physical help but not to the point he starts arguing about it. We tread lightly and step softly. I suppose hoping to wake up one morning soon and he be the old Armando.

I think what he would have been like. Had he stayed, I was such a mess myself then. I've been able to forgive myself for past transgressions, he said he's forgiven me, but somewhere in there is still the young boy who felt abandoned and for a time was. He is my son and I love him. I want him happy, healthy at a time in his life his decisions are all his to make.

I keep reminding him about going to meetings. When he mentioned Friday, I'm sure he was surprised that I already had planned to go. 

"It's easy to lie to someone who trusts you.
"