This Crazy Life

I talked to my therapist on Tuesday.  My child didn’t go to school.  She went Monday.  Her stomach hurt, her head hurt.  I think she has some pretty intense social anxiety.  Why I have no idea, but it is definitely a real thing.  Anyway back to my therapist.  We talked a lot about controlling my expectations.  And just because I had this idea of how life would look for my kids doesn’t mean that how it ends up looking is bad or wrong or not as good.  If she doesn’t finish high school and gets her GED does it really matter?  Does it make any difference in her adulthood.  No, not really.  Can she still go to college, still go to a trade school?  Yes and yes.  She can.  Can she still be successful?  Absolutely.  Does it still suck and make me feel like a failure.  Absolutely.  Am I working on that.  I’m trying.  My.  Best.  Let’s go back to the ED for a fun story.  So today I did breakfast with my daughter and then had to run some errands.  I text her as I was going to be a bit late for lunch (which ended up not mattering b/c she was late for lunch).  Someone put oil in her shoes.  She couldn’t wear them.  She didn’t have any clean socks.  She tried to put on her sandals without socks but they had oil on them too.  She was stuck in the house and couldn’t move or walk anywhere.  She knew in her gut there was oil.  Everywhere.  Yes, this is reality.  But I have definitely come to accept this more.  And even though it seems “worse” to an outside observer than a kid missing school, this is so much easier for me.  Not that I’ve given up on her, but I’ve accepted that her life is not going to be normal.  It’s not going to be.   But the thought of another one not living a normal life is really soul crushing.