I took responsibility for everything my son has went through. That I couldn't protect him from feeling hopeless, that I couldn't fix his sadness. That he inherited my curse and hence, my fault. Logically, I know it isn't, I know I provided a secure and stable, loving home. That I allowed him a place to succeed and fail, that I've loved/love him, that I gave him room to become his own person and to find and form his Outlook on the world.

I have to remind myself that he is an adult now and makes his own decisions about his life. I have to watch him make mistakes and hold my tongue. I have to hope that what I provided will be enough for him to fall back on when he needs to fall back.

As it stands, he was here last night and he is "fine", for now. I have to let that be too. I can only do something when he decides and keep my boundaries intact so I don't walk around with a hole in my gut from worry.

What a heart wrenching job it is to be a parent.

#Life is a beautiful lie#