He lasted one week. Seven days. Seven days of freedom. Of happiness. Of bliss. That whatever came to him, he wouldnt let get to him. No matter what I said to him, what I did, he would still be happy. On top of the world, as they say.
Those days I appreciated so much, and made the most out of. It was the happiest I’ve ever seen him, and hopefully, I dear god Beg, it not be the last. Today was day two of him being ‘normal’ again, and I do not allow myself to say I hate it. I love him whatever the weather he becomes. And embrace it fully with all my heart. I see him on the phone, I see him smile, the way he projects himself onto others fully, then I look at myself, where did I go wrong, where did he go wrong, anotjer childhood trauma I am again have to unravel and help him solve that Even He does not know or embrace the fact of change. The way he tells others about this day, and I feel I miss out on all the moments, noatter how unimportant it may seem to him.
The Fact that he always says that I Stress him out. How it is possible, that the one he loves, the one he should love everything about, brings him negativity. All I do is try to teach and bring the best of him. As in chess, a queen can move more ways to protect his king, I do to him. Yet, I am battered and beaten to pulp. There is so much I can do, so much energy I can give, But he has little self awareness to grow. His love for me, and understanding, and willingness, allows him all this, but to fully accept and to do so autonomously, for me even takes years of practice. So I dare not try push him anymore than I can.
I feel useless sometimes. But I also need to take care about myself. I love him, we take care of each other. Equals. I’ve learnt.