That was the text I got after I completely lost it this morning. Another day and another girl in the bed of the "adult" in our basement. I had just talked to him yesterday about why I got so stressed out. He really doesn't get it. He is surrounded by hurting kids his age who can't seem to stay out of our house and the whole thing makes me nervous, especially when Bart isn't here.
My anger then led to a fairly decent conversation... I do have compassion for him. What do you tell a person who has so many legal charges that he can't get a job, who has mental health issues, who is so scattered he really can't see straight, etc. He has always felt like a victim and when he is at the bottom, there isn't any way for him to see beyond that.
I wish that he didn't see us as being the problem.... but I am sure his whole life he will find ways to blame us. But I need to let that go.
So once again my anger turned to grace.... slowly, surely, as I begin to feel his pain, I let go of my own needs and start to think about his. I"m not sure that I can do much for him. I can't convince someone to hire him. I can't take away his FASD or his mental health issues. I can't make him do what we ask. But neither can I kick him out. And I don't need to be so harsh.
Extending grace and compassion really is a lot healthier than screaming out frustration. But sometimes it takes me a while to turn that around. I'm getting better at it though, as time goes by. Maybe next time I can just skip the scream fest and move there immediately.
Here's hoping....
No comments:
Post a Comment