Letting go...

I'm pretty sure my son thinks I'm crazy.  I can tell by the way he answers the phone when I call him throughout the day.  And maybe I'm just being overprotective, but I thought calling him over the course of the day was a good thing!  I realize he's almost 14, but seriously, why does he make me feel like my calling him is a pain?

I'm sorry to bother you Ethan, but I just wanted to make sure the apartment has not burnt down.. or that you weren't dead or something.  Maybe this all stems from a deeper seeded issue..  Last year a friend of mine came home to her 14 year old son with a chain around his neck tied to the fridge.  And it hit me harder than I expected it to.  Every day since that day I have agonized over whether I am a good enough parent to keep my son from killing himself.  That first month after the death of that boy I cried every day, and called every second I could when my son was at home by himself.

The reason it hit me so hard was because she was a single mom too.  And he was an only child, and he went home by himself after school... her situation was so very similar to mine, and it scared me.  It still scares me today, but not as much as it used to.

I worry constantly about whether Ethan is happy.  Am I doing all I possibly can to keep him happy without being too overbearing?  Am I giving just enough attention without spoiling him and making him into a self-entitled brat?? I have no idea.  So I call him throughout the day.  And I make sure to talk to him about the future.  I ask him what kind of car he wants, or the small job he wants to do when he's old enough to work to make some money...

I had a ray of hope the other day that I don't need to be so obsessive.  I was cooking dinner and he came into the kitchen and said to me, "Mom, I think its time I learn how to cook something other than eggs."  I know it seems so small of a think to get excited about, but seriously, I just wanted to cry I was so happy.

It's crazy how something like a friend's child's suicide can effect me as deeply as it did.  And now that this whole experience is winding down I see days like today and feel so tired over my life.

Today I'm exhausted.  I worked all day and when I got home I couldn't even make dinner I sat down and next thing I know I'm asleep on the couch.  This is my life.  Worrying about my son killing himself, and working so much it's killing me.

Oh, the wonders of being a single mother.  But hey, I'm not dead yet.