Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Letting Go

Thomas' session in therapy yesterday was very interesting and a turning point for me somewhere inside. I will try to describe here what is going on with me. I wrote in the description of this blog as a whole that you would read the "candid and sometimes raw point of view of a mom with a son with schizophrenia". Today will be one of those days where ...I will live up to that very prediction in a big way. I write because I know that if you haven't already, some of you will someday feel like I do, or something close to it and I don't want you to feel that you are the only ones.

I sat in the beginnings of Thomas' therapy yesterday as the usual questions were thrown at him asking him to rate anxiety, paranoia etc. Everything thrown at him was a zero with a rare 1 in places. I watched his therapists face as Thomas talked and even he seemed a bit surprised about this seemingly spontaneous recovery of Thomas's. You see, it wasn't just that conversation that had us baffled. Something else had happened with Thomas the day before.

My mom gave Thomas my dad's bike and Thomas rode it to work. Yes, to work. All of his anxiety about being on time that we've lived with for months was gone and he rode off as I cried and prayed he'd make it safely. He hasn't been on a bike for years. Then...then not only did he ride it TO work but he then had to ride it home from work and he did that in the dark of night. The dark with all of it monsters. Only for him there were none. And when I say "none" I mean none. No paranoia, no worry that the car coming up behind him was following him no nothing. He rode home in peace and was fine. It was really a beautiful thing to behold. I didn't think he had it in him but he did and he did it with success and flying colors. Sitting there in therapy, though, as Thomas talked about all of this and all of his zero's both his therapist and I were baffled. What has happened to Thomas. How can he go from such heavy paranoia a week ago to acting like an ordinary young man?!?!?

So now, here is the raw part.

Ask me what I felt.

What came to me like a tidal wave was anger. That and desperate tears, the kind that leave a lump in your throat. What was wrong with me that I felt so angry about what had transpired in that session? I still can't totally put my finger on it but somewhere deep inside I am angry because he is fine. Just like that. No warning, no preparation, no nothing. Please please please don't get me wrong, I am thankful that he is fine, it's all I have wanted for the past few months and even longer than that but now that he is, somehow, for some reason, I am angry and sad. He talks of being independent and moving out and getting his drivers license and I now see that's possible for him. And yet, I am angry. During the hours afterwards my mind began to figure out what to do next. I don't have to police anything anymore. I don't have to question him if he is ok, I don't have to worry anymore. So what did I want to do? I wanted to run.


I wanted to get away as far and as fast as I could. I wanted to escape this cloud I have been under and all of this I was wanting with a seemingly cold heart, one that would be willing to leave her son and husband and just GO. What is the point in staying anymore? The last strings that kept me tied here have been cut and I want to go. I want to find myself, define myself as someone other than "the mother of a child with schizophrenia" or "the caretaker of my ailing father"--who has passed on but yet that still defines me. I feel like an empty, sad shell of a woman and I am sad and angry and very



I prayed and prayed for Thomas to be well. I prayed and prayed that my dad would get better when he was alive. Now, he's dead and now, Thomas doesn't need me anymore. I want to go.


And I want to stand in a big field and scream until I lose my voice, cry tears of grief until I have none left, I want to fall to my knees and pummel the ground with my fists culminating with wanting to curl up in a ball and catch my breath. Then...I want to find a life, redefine myself, move on.

I lost my daddy. My beloved daddy who I miss with a vengeance every day, every hour, every minute of my day. Now, too, in a way, I have lost my son. He is free to go now. Now that he's well I can see him living independently and succeeding at it. I see him leaving home for the first time and all of this, all of it leaves me empty and angry and sad.

I don't know. I'd ask you not to judge me but the thing is, I wouldn't be being true to the goal of my blog if I didn't tell you what I am going through. I am under extraordinary experiences right now having just lost my daddy. That alone wrecks people but now, also, I have who was once a very sick young man now stretching his wings and is I-----I <---this close from leaving the nest. My life feels empty. I don't know how to be anyone other than a caregiver.

So, again, I don't know. I have mixed emotions, strong ones, and I have to sort them out before my world crashes around me completely. I am utterly baffled how Thomas can be not fine and then seemingly suddenly be perfectly fine. I have shocked myself with my reaction and I'm sure I'll shock you too. But it is what it is. My only hope now is that you find some way to understand what I have written here today.

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