I kicked out my middle son today.  Actually, I gave him several months to work things out, to start helping himself and to stop treating me like shit.  When nothing changed, I gave him a month’s notice to go.  I should be wracked with guilt, but I’m not.  I’m relieved.  I know it’s possible I’ll never have a relationship with him again, and I’m still relieved.

I adore this kid.  He and I can talk for hours about so many topics and I miss it; I miss him. I’ve been missing him for a long time though, and he wasn’t coming back to me living under my roof.  I wish he could have.

Unfortunately, he’s imitating his dad’s behavior and, with no end in sight, I let him go.  He’s furious, my other boys are confused and scared, and I’m relieved.  Is that wrong?  When I start to think maybe it is wrong, I re-read the list of what my covert narcissistic spouse gave me; what he left me with.

Here’s what I was feeling:

• Fog.   I lived in a fog.  I felt like a wisp of nothing, like I could disappear and it would be for the best.
• Undeserving.  Undeserving to be alive, to get attention, to be treated well.
• Trust Issues.  I was unable to trust anyone, most of all myself.
• Fear.  Every move, or lack of movement,  came from my pervasive sense of fear.
• Powerless.  I had no power over anything in my life,  & I felt every bit of that powerlessness.
• Not Good Enough.  I wasn’t good enough at anything, for anybody.
• Crazy.  I had to be crazy; those around me told me I was, and I certainly felt it.
• Body Issues.  I hated every bit of my body.  I remember reading an article from a photographer who said she could make any woman feel beautiful, all she needed to know was what body part that woman liked.  I had none.
• “Too sensitive”.  I was told this repeatedly, so it must be true, yes?
• Over-reactive.  Always making a mountain out of a mole hill; that was me.
• Anxious.  Anxiety robbed me of my ability to engage in life.  Grocery shopping was difficult, school events for my children practically impossible.
• Tired.  I could sleep for a week and still be tired.
• No Joy.  Nothing brought me joy.  Hobbies I had loved, people I had loved, activities I had loved, if I could bring myself to engage, brought me no happiness.
• Depressed.   Yes, I was depressed, but anti-depressants had no effect.
• Inauthentic.  I was a poser.  Not often, because I didn’t leave my house much, but when I did, I was a poser.  I presented a happy face that I knew was false.
• Incompetent. I could do nothing right.  I had stopped trying a long time ago.  Everyday problems, in addition to major issues, had to be handled by someone else, because I would just screw it up.
• Confused.  How did this happen?  How did I become the incompetent, anxious, depressed person I was?
• Stupid.  Why couldn’t I fix this?  How could I have a Master’s degree is Psychology and have no idea how to help myself.
• Helpless/hopeless.  I have spent decades feeling hopeless.  I still have days, or weeks in which I feel that way.  It is a terrible feeling.
• Sick.  I was always sick.   I now had cancer, but I had been declared disabled years before due to a plethora of autoimmune diseases.

Today, I went to yoga for the 1st time in a while, then I came home and cleaned out my closets, followed by some sewing.  I then had a family dinner with my other children, and now, at 8PM I night, I still have some energy.  I haven’t felt this good since………I can’t remember.

Did I sacrifice my son for myself?  He moved in with his dad and his dad’s new GF, so it seems like a stretch to say I sacrificed him.  I took away his comfort-ability, I shook him up.  His dad, who always claimed to be Father of the Year, said everything he did he did for his kids, now has the opportunity to prove it.  It seems like this should be a good thing; an opportunity.  I guess on some level he understands that his dad is not Father of the Year, and he will still not be there for him, even while living under the same roof.  It’s got to feel awkward at best, and my heart breaks for him.

The ultimate question is this:  Did I help him or harm him?  I know I helped myself and his brothers, so his well being is all that remains unknown.  I hope I did the right thing.

Did I have a choice?