I know it is my fault. And his father's fault as well. I get that. I've accepted that and asked for forgiveness, but also know I will carry the guilt and pain for as long as I live. Still, days like today are difficult for me. I find myself thinking, "he's doing so well lately" and "it seems like he's conquered a lot of his mental health issues" and then, almost without warning, I do or say something that sets him off and he turns on me. And it hurts.
I try to set boundaries, but I guess I've never been good at that. I try to remind myself that he loves me, that son of mine; but there are times like tonight when it feels like he does not.
Parenting truly is the most difficult job ever. It is difficult because it is so routine; most of us are parents. Biologically, we are driven to reproduce. Yet, most of us are not qualified to take on the job of raising another human being. As a species, we know so much about what makes a quality parent, but we apply so little of that cumulative knowledge. In fact, we don't even ensure that what we know about good parenting is disseminated among all of us - especially those of us who need it the most. If I were younger, knowing what I know now, not only would I parent differently, but I would spend my life promoting healthy parenting. It would be my Life Mission. But now? Now it's just too late for me to do much of anything. Somehow, I've missed the damn boat.
So tonight, I am both hurt and frustrated. I wish it could be different. I carry so much fucking regret that it weighs me down. I can't undo the past. "It's done," "it is finished," and "it is what it is" - and all that crap. Yeah. Motherhood. It has evolved into endless pain and frustration so much of the time.
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