Physical pain, the minor stuff, like scraped knees, stitches. bumps on the head, we can kiss, hug, put bacitracin and a band-aide on. Boo-boo all better.
But when a kid is hurting inside, due to life, and they cry and are scared or sad, for me, that pain is the worst pain I have ever felt.
Whenever my kids struggle, I try and do anything I can to fix it. I contact teachers, principals, counselors, coaches, kids, and their parents.
I am not sure why it seems to be so hard on me, but has been almost impossible for me not to react. And sometimes react inappropriately.
Here is what I've learned. Teachers are usually cool. Some principals are cool. Many coaches are cool. Most kids and their parents are never cool. Ever.
No one ever thinks their kid is wrong. And no kid will listen to another parent. I have tried to explain certain situations until I'm blue in the face. Believe me, I have learned (just recently) that there is no use. Plus, I always end up over doing it, and then people stop listening and start get defensive. Which shuts down any communication. And has even gotten me called "immature." (Like, can you even imagine...okay I sometimes agree with that, but it's not easy for me.)
No one wants to believe their kid isn't perfect. And some kids (people) are just plain assholes. I know that stems from their own emotional and personal issues. Too bad we all sometimes cross their path. That is life.
But I try to fix it, and almost always make it worse or get no result at all. I have GOT to stop doing that. For myself, because it is gut wrenchingly painful, for them because they need to figure stuff out themselves. But I love them, so...
I have born to me some very sensitive children. This could be for many reasons. I am obviously sensitive. We have been through some shit as a family. My kids have been abandoned by me when I was using, by their father with his mental illness, and that has affected their lives in many different ways.
So if I see this pain in them, and they are struggling with friendships, teachers or whoever, I feel guilty. I dont know how to help them. Save them. I didn't give them the tools they need. I can't kiss their ouchie and put a bandaide on it. I can't make their pain stop. I can hold them, listen to them (if they'll talk), and love them. But I can't promise it will get better. Or easier. Life can hurt.
Just when I think I have this, life will happen and they get hurt. My pain, I hope, is greater than theirs. Because it hurts. But I can't teach them good coping skills unless I start modeling them. And I fuck that up a lot.
If one of you tells me to go to Alanon, I will be SHOCKED. I KNOW okay?