Letting Go

From the time I started therapy for D.I.D. (Dissociative Identity Disorder) in 2009, I had to get used to letting go.  I let go of the time I lost, the friends and family members I thought were on my side and I even had to let go of my children.  They weren’t taken from me but I had to let them find their way sooner than I would have liked.

After therapy was finished in 2011, I was left with a whole life ahead of me and no direction. I had no idea what I wanted to do, be or become. I was left with more questions than answers. “What now?” became the question that filled my days. My marriage and friendships did not survive my healing process.

My husband took me to court and tried his best to prove me an unfit mother. (My daughter was 13 and my son was 9 at the time) My best friend took the stand against me. She lied to me the whole time I was in therapy, telling me she was there for me and secretly meeting with my husband behind my back to help him try and take the kids from me. I had no idea any of this was going on. I was devastated. Long story short, they did not succeed. I was granted joint custody but the damage had been done. We began a grueling visitation that would change every week. My daughter was happy to come ‘home’ but my son became more distant and more angry with each passing week. I still have no idea what he was being told when he went to his father’s house. Moving to a different home and living out of a suitcase was hard on the kids but it was what they wanted so we tried it for a year. It was a hell of a year and it took its toll on all of us.

I decided to sit the kids down and give them their choice. I would love them no matter what but they could choose who they would like to stay with and it would be okay. My daughter chose to stay with me but my son leapt at the opportunity to go to his dad’s house. The next 5 years were some of the hardest as a Mom. I would reach out and it would go ignored. If he gave in and came over, the visits were horrible and he did everything he could to hurt me mentally and emotionally. The visits stopped. The phone calls stopped. His father quit telling me what was going on and I spent several years telephoning and emailing teachers just to find out what was happening in his life. My son’s habit became cozying up to me right around Christmas and then telling me to f-off by Mother’s Day. I was dying inside.

That’s when I decided that I couldn’t handle his abuse any longer and decided to “let go”. I quit calling/emailing teachers. Quit asking his father. Quit inviting him over. When I felt led to, I’d send him the message, “I love you. I miss you and I am here for you.” Once a week, or once a month, whenever I was led to, I’d send him the same message, “I love you. I miss you and I’m here for you.” I didn’t get any responses.

Then last year, I was visiting their town (my wife and I live and travel in an RV full time now) and he invited me to one of his choral shows. I went. I saw him for just a few minutes and I said the same thing, “I love you. I miss you and I’m here for you.” He rolled his eyes but I was happy. This has continued for a while but he is now having problems with his Dad and they are fighting constantly. My son has been in and out of a behavioral hospital numerous times and he called me a couple of times. My message to him has always been the same.

He is in High School now and still living with his father. We have now found a way to communicate through Snapchat. I don’t get a lot but he gives me glimpses into his daily life that I haven’t had in years. This year for Mother’s Day, I got a heartfelt, “I love you Mom” that I wouldn’t trade anything for. It is slow going but it is getting better. He may choose to let me in and he may not. I’m okay with it now. I let him go but haven’t forgotten and certainly won’t turn my back on him.

I know he is where he is for his soul’s growth and he’s learning lessons I cannot help him with right now. I do know I am now someone he can reach out for when he needs me and I cherish that today. I hope that it continues to get closer. Love is the vehicle for the hope that I have with him and I am thankful.

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