H O P E
Wishful thinking.
I've lived with hope for too many years to believe in it anymore. Tonight I'm too tired to be hopeful. Again it's all dissolved into an absolute free-for-all. Living with a conduct disorder child is a challenge and a constant switch between living on a diet of hope and disappointment. I know it isn't intentional (most of the time - or at least I try to convince myself of that) but I wish things were different. Yet I know it never will be. This is the pattern that we will repeat for years to come despite behaviour modification, interventions, discipline, frustration and despair.
I'm not sure why I bother. I guess a little piece of me somewhere inside is hopeful that one day it will all come together and things will be okay. But looking at the genetics and seeing the same scenarios played out consistently leave me feeling more hopeless than hopeful because while I can fight the seen and the malignant, I cannot fight the genetics and what simply is.
Yes he's apologised and things have quietened down in the house, but just until the next rumble. And at this point in time the rumbles are frequent and the fear is always there that one day somebody is going to go just too far because I know when it comes down to a physical battle I won't win. He isn't the little boy he was anymore and that is reality.
So yes hope is about holding on but in my opinion pain doesn't end. We just learn to be creative about living with it so that it isn't a sharp dig in our side all the time but more a dull ache we can ignore while we go about our day. I've gotten good at that.
I've lived with hope for too many years to believe in it anymore. Tonight I'm too tired to be hopeful. Again it's all dissolved into an absolute free-for-all. Living with a conduct disorder child is a challenge and a constant switch between living on a diet of hope and disappointment. I know it isn't intentional (most of the time - or at least I try to convince myself of that) but I wish things were different. Yet I know it never will be. This is the pattern that we will repeat for years to come despite behaviour modification, interventions, discipline, frustration and despair.
I'm not sure why I bother. I guess a little piece of me somewhere inside is hopeful that one day it will all come together and things will be okay. But looking at the genetics and seeing the same scenarios played out consistently leave me feeling more hopeless than hopeful because while I can fight the seen and the malignant, I cannot fight the genetics and what simply is.
Yes he's apologised and things have quietened down in the house, but just until the next rumble. And at this point in time the rumbles are frequent and the fear is always there that one day somebody is going to go just too far because I know when it comes down to a physical battle I won't win. He isn't the little boy he was anymore and that is reality.
So yes hope is about holding on but in my opinion pain doesn't end. We just learn to be creative about living with it so that it isn't a sharp dig in our side all the time but more a dull ache we can ignore while we go about our day. I've gotten good at that.