Love Letter - The Complete Truth

I can almost never get my oldest son to go anywhere with me unless it is somewhere he has some vested or special interest in going to. Just last month my mom came to visit with my sister and my brother's daughter. On the heavy itinerary prepared by my expert planning sister there was the Observatory and Planetarium at Griffith Park, the Page Museum at La Brea Tar Pits, The Long Beach Aquarium, the San Diego Zoo and Wild Animal Park, and Sea World.
At least two weeks prior to the trip I had given him the agenda of the places we intended to visit and asked him if he wanted to share with the whole family on any of those occasions. He was gracious enough and picked the San Diego Zoo. Most parents don't even ask their kids, but I already know that not asking in my situation might mean having spent money on tickets and then not using them.

On top of all that I have shared already you should know that my son also has a sleeping disorder. Sometimes he will go days without sleeping and then crash for 36 or 48 hours afterwards. During the school year this is part of the nightmare of trying to get him not to miss school too much. His mom is constantly having to call and find all kinds of excuses to avoid him getting into any more trouble than he already is for having missed another day. In the Summer we actually have a few months to breath and the level of stress decreases proportional to us just letting him sleep and wake whenever he seems fit. For days prior to the event I kept insisting that he would please straighten out his sleeping hours so that he would not miss it, since I had already bought the tickets in advance. On the morning of the outing I could tell that he had barely slept the night before, but it being something that he had promised to my relatives, he made the extra effort and did not back out. I was actually impressed.

Just two hours after we had arrived at the zoo the nightmare began as he started to vomit while we were all trying to catch our breath in one of the eating facilities. I took him to the restroom and held his now longer than Jesus hair back while he played homage to the porcelain god in front of him. My younger boy had just recovered from a flu, so in my mind I assumed the other rascal had caught it too. Eventually he started to feel a bit better and we continued our day of fun. At least 45 more minutes had passed and we all decided to go see the Sea Lion Show. No more than 10 minutes into the show when to my horror I could see him sticking his head into a trash can at the end of the stage vomiting some more. I excused myself and went down to pick him off the floor where he was laying in misery and knowing that the worse had not yet happened. We left the show and walked to a restroom and proceeded to do a few more rounds of adoration at the toilet. As we walked out I did what I have always learned to do, I asked him what was going on and what had he taken to make him feel so ill. Honesty, what a beautiful yet horrifying thing to experience at once. He confessed to raiding my medicine cabinet in search of medications that he could use to experiment and consuming some back pain medication and some migraine medication. After asking a bit more I discovered that in less than 36 hours he had consumed over 24 pills. I felt zero sympathy and actually asked God in my mind to please make him feel as crappy and miserable as he could without obviously letting him get hurt. My wish was granted...yes! Of course now all medications as it is with alcohol are under lock and key.

I truly hope that there is a heaven, and that my dad, my grandparents, and all of the people I have loved and have passed away are up there having a good time. I also hope that in between their celestial parties maybe they once in a while get a chance to take a peek at down here below so that they can talk to the Boss and let him know that I need some freaking help! If there really is no such thing as heaven, then that would explain a whole lot of what is going on. Still, I choose to believe, however, we'll have to make another post to cover these issues later on.

Forgiveness has become the key for me to be able to accept my son and all of his constant changes in behaviour. Just two days ago I was furious with him because during my absence he had broken into my room while I was not at home. The zoo incident forced me to declare my room completely off limits. The nincompoop does not hide his crimes. In fact, all I had to do was walk into the house to find my previously locked door wide open, my towels on the floor, his shampoo and conditioner sitting there in the middle of a mess of his long ass hair. It does not take a CSI to figure out who did the freaking mess, and when I asked him he simply said that he wanted to use my nice big tub.

There was one thing that I benefited the most while attending the 10 week program with my son when we were dealing with his diagnosis of Intermittent Explosive Disorder. As part of a graduation requirement each person had to write to their counterpart participant what they call a "Love Letter - The Complete Truth." In this letter they start the sentences for you and then you fill in the blank afterwards with your own words. It is a very clever way to have it all said so that each person can ask for forgiveness but also let the other know what it is that has hurt them the most. Without this step in the program, I believe that it would be almost impossible to carry on after so many things have been said in front of others. There needs to be forgiveness in order to star over, continue, or simply accept things the way they are in your life.

Below I will share for you to read my love letter to my son that I read to him in front of all the other participants of the program 18 months ago. Here you go...

A Love Letter

The Complete Truth

Dear Son,

This is my love letter to you and I ask you from the bottom of my heart that you please listen carefully. Although some of these things make it sound like I am angry, truly I am not.

I hate it when…you blame everyone else for the things you do wrong. I expect you to make mistakes; only God can count high enough to keep track of mine. Accepting responsibility for your mistakes will help you grow and keep you from making the same mistakes over and over again.

It makes me furious when…you ask me for something, make promises in order to convince me, and then don’t keep your promises. It makes me feel used. This is something that mom and me realize is partly our fault. Rewards need to be handed after you do things right, and not before…it is just bad parenting to do it the other way around. So if you want to get your drivers permit before you are 18, make sure you show us how responsible you can be in the simple things like going to school and doing your homework on time.

I’m fed up with…your sarcasm, insults, and mean comments. You have gotten so used to saying hurtful things that you don’t realize how deep your words wound me. Just imagine, if I am fed up with it, and I love you…how fed up do you think anyone else that does not love you and you treat them this way will be?

I’m tired of…constantly being degraded and insulted. I cannot even remember when was the last time you said something nice about me. Your hurtfulness drains my soul, it makes me weak, and it really is ugly.

I resent…you spitting on me, choking me, chasing me with a knife, breaking furniture, doors, and mirrors, denting our car, breaking mom’s windshield, destroying her cell phone, and worse of all, not showing any remorse or regret for having done any of these things.

It hurts me when…you deny all of the love, attention, and caring that I have given you day in and day out.

I feel sad when…you push me away. When you want something you are nice, and then once you get it you turn around and become hurtful again almost instantly. I feel sad to watch you behave this way when I am sure you know that I love you so much. You have chosen not to spend almost any time with me with the excuse that you don’t want me to fight with you, knowing fully well that our fights are almost always because you do not want to go to school or because you lie about turning in your homework. Staying at mom’s has given you the power to not have to do anything with your life, right or wrong, and to me that is very sad.

I feel awful when…you loose control of your anger. I feel awful when I loose control of my anger too. I am so glad that we are here to find help.

I feel hurt when…you say that I have not been there for you. I do not know if this is just something you say to justify your anger, or if in fact you believe this to be true. Either way it hurts. Since the day you were born I have never truly left your side. When I have had to leave to do my job on board war ships for a couple of weeks, I have always been the one to write to you day after day, knowing that you will almost never answer my emails more than once while I am gone. Before you started school, for almost a full year I took care of you all day long during the day while mom went to work, and then I would go to work until past midnight just because your daycare was not working out. Whenever you were sick I would lay you next to me so that I could feel how high your fever was all night long because sometimes it would sky rocket in the middle of the night and I would have to put you in warm water to keep you from convulsing. I could go on and on about how I have never left your side. If you say that I have not been there for you to hurt me, it works.

I’m disappointed when…you don’t accept the help that is given to you to get better. If you were diabetic, you would take insulin. If you had cancer you would have chemo to help you get better. I really don’t understand why you won’t take the medications that have been prescribed to you to help you get better emotionally.

I’m afraid that…we will drift apart because of your anger and that we will miss out on having a great life together. I understand that you are growing up, so I have no problem giving you space, privacy, and independence. All I want you to understand is that nobody will ever love you more than me and mom, and that we want to be supportive of your dreams.

I feel scared that…you will hurt us or yourself and that you will get worse and end up in juvenile hall or later in jail. I feel scared that you will start doing drugs and alcohol and you will die like your uncle, young and full of promise. I feel scared that by not listening to the people that love you, you will lose yourself in failure and become more depressed.

I’m worried that…if you do not find your way back to doing your schoolwork, that you will miss out on so many great things. You are so capable of success, but taking the hard road is longer, scarier, and lonelier. Because of your intelligence, all you have to do is put in a little effort and every door you dream of will open without having to bang your head against the wall all the time. Think about it, why would we tell you these things if they were not true?

I’m sorry that…I have not known how to help you more. I’m sorry for…not knowing how to control my anger at you. With time I became more and more frustrated, and eventually I did not know how to control my frustration.

Please forgive me for…hurting you physically and emotionally. I didn’t mean to…degrade you. I have said things that I am not proud of, out of frustration, anger, and also being hurt. I am the adult and I apologize for letting my emotions take over me.

I want…to see you get better. I want to trust that you will do the right thing and start going to school again so that we can reward you for your efforts.

I wish…you would try to the medications to see if they could help, even if it was for a month or so. I cannot imagine that they would make things worse for you, but if they did in any way, then we would at least know.

I hope…I can be a better father. I hope that you will take what you have learned in here and use it for the rest of your life, just as I intend to do.

I love you because…when you are not angry you have the heart of an angel. I will never stop loving you no matter what. Your mom and me dreamed about having you in our lives for a very long time. When you finally came we knew we were blessed.

Thank you for…coming here to get help…for making me proud so many times in the past and what I know will be so many times in the future…for loving your mom and your brother…for having enough self control in the past to stay out of drugs and alcohol…for all the times you have done the right thing…for all the hugs (even in front of your friends)…the “I love you dad’s”…and mostly thank you for loving me too, regardless of all of my flaws.

I’m proud of you for…having the courage to look into yourself to find ways to be healthier. I am proud of your talents, your abilities, and your good heart towards others.

I forgive you for…anything and everything you have ever said or done that is hurtful. I am confident that I can put the past away. I hope that you can do the same so that we can have a great life.

I love it when…we spend time together. Our road trip to Dallas was a lot of fun. I love your music, your taste in movies, and your heart. I want you to follow your dreams, whatever they might be, and I will be there for you…I promise.

Love, Dad