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Thursday, July 11, 2019

My Boxing Boy

My son started boxing yesterday. He was excited to get to hit the bag today. He admitted that he'd imagine whom he referred to as "he who shall not be named" when he started getting tired and then he'd hit harder and "it felt good" he said. I asked who exactly that was. He said, "you know, the man who has caused our family so much pain recently." (Dr. Cheri)
I'm fighting back tears now. I am sad this is what he has become. The doctor of psychology who could have and should have been a name that represented healing and a new me discovered through the understanding of the old me that for years had been broken and re-broken by TBI. His name, I once thought, would be held in high regard by myself and my family... But the healing was disrupted by the blindside that led to the downslide and feelings confide that couldn't hide but then being denied to abide
with the system that is upside
down
... at least that little rhyming game was fun in my head as I hid the tears and let my kids express their anger and dislike. They don't want me to defend him or to blame myself. It's not me, they say, it's he, and the system.
They were supposed to help but instead they shut out and hurt, to protect themselves at my expense
which was not just my expense
but my kids' as well.
These two teens notice me and they value me.
That is what they need me to hear. That is what I need to respect ...so I don't defend. I listen and I fight the tears well this time, just for them.


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