The life that will be saved | storiesfromtheheart's Blog

I don’t really feel like writing tonight, but I am making myself. Maybe if I push the thoughts onto the paper they will become the reality that is going to unfold with or without me.
Apparently sometimes the right decision is the hardest one to make. There is a part of me that knows the right decision, but there is a much larger part of my heart that is not able to listen to reason.
I know I will do the right thing, in the end. I have to. It is not about me. I keep repeating these words.
After another night up in the hospital having my teen patched back together again, I know that things are not progressing as I would have hoped. In the back of my head for the last couple of weeks the idea that she may not be able to hold out until we are able to move back to our home town becomes an ever increasing fear.
And then, without warning all that I had been thinking is said by the one person I didn’t want to hear it from; her father.  It has been decided she needs to go and spend more than a holiday with him. She will go and live with him, attend school and continue her journey to recovery there.
I had already known that after all that has been done here, things are not working.  I feel I have failed. I feel like he is taking her because I have been unable to do what he seems to think he will be able to do. Make her better again.
So much races around, like I should have done more, maybe I should have left my job and stayed home to help her. So much more, so much more should have, could have been done.  As his words fill the phone against my ear, my sadness, despair, failings turn to anger and I become combative. I hate that he placates, and will attempt to say the right things – “this is not because you have not done your best...” that says to me only that my best was not good enough.  And he is nicely telling me so.  Are these perceptions real, or imagined it makes no difference its how I feel about him and his wanting to take her.
She is mad, I am sad and he thinks he is some sort of angel swooping in to save us all. His parting words to me as usual are not unkind. “Thank you for giving me the chance to help her too.”  I do not know what to do with his words and I hang up the phone. I had agreed he could take her.
Something in my soul is calling to me, telling me she needs something new to help pull her out of the cycle she is in. But at the same time I now deal with feelings of being inadequate as a mother to do what she needed.
In a matter of weeks she will be packed up and gone, those closest to me reassure me it is the right thing for her. She needs to see that there are consequences, I need a break, my younger children need some normalacy; so many reasons why this needs to happen. But no one sees my heart breaking. And I see her looking at me with sad, angry eyes.
As I settle into my thoughts, new ones sprout to life. Am I giving up too easily, do I know anything at all, I do not want go back to work, I can’t fix my family so what hope have I for anyone else, it goes on and on. I am losing myself in crazy thoughts, I am becoming unbalanced.
I have failed, I couldn’t do it, and my best was not good enough.