Parenting is hard…exhausting even. Parenting a teen with depression can be a nightmare. Seeing your child in pain is one of the most awful things on this earth. Watching them, knowing they’re hurting and not being able to do anything about it is a hell unlike any other.
I try. Dear god I try. I listen, try to be as supportive as possible, be there for him when he needs me, and give him the tools he needs to grow. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m doing more harm than good. I simply give him the things I’ve been taught and hope he uses them.
But I’m not perfect, and sometimes I can be the “just deal with it” and the “if you change this things will be better”…mind over matter mom. I believe in these principles, they have served me well over the years, but I can’t assume that he works like me. That we’re the same.
Being lost is misery incarnate. I can truly appreciate being hurt, and wanting to change but feeling as though it’s not even a remote possibility. I understand never wanting to get out of bed. I know that clouds that work to stop you from productivity…from a happy life. I’ve known these demons since I was a little girl, and I’ve fought them daily.
But being a teenager means that he doesn’t want to listen…he wants to give up and call it a day. I can’t stand that. It hurts me and I have no idea how to field this kind of behavior. I’ve never parented a teen before, and there’s no book to be read that even begins to uncover the specific truth that is my boy.
Every day is trial and error, and I fail more than I succeed. But I’ll keep trying. Every. Single. Day. I’ll continue to try. To be here. To love him with everything that I am. To support him and lift him up at all costs. Give him room to breathe. Help him flourish. I keep telling him: one day at a time. Just one day at a time.
It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men. -Frederick Douglas
the ditched bitch 