The journal entry below by my youngest son is shared by permission.
The artwork is his.
When I’m in the apartment I feel like it’s jail and I can’t escape. It’s difficult. And I wish I was free so I can do whatever I want but it’s not like that, well, at least not anymore. I wish my parents were nice to each other. These last years have been very hard in school and living. I wish I don’t think about this. My mom has motivated me and taught me many things like believing in myself and talking to me while I’m sad. Or helping me get bad things out of my mind. She goes to the store with me and many fun activities even though it might seem like she’s working all day she’s actually with me my whole life. My dad also helps with many things like my homework. I’ve been sad feeling this way and they both are still in my life but the only thing that bothers me is they don’t live in the same house together.
I listen, reflectively, so that he hears what he says through my voice, and, as much I encourage him to ‘feel’ and share his conflicting thoughts, in the end, my baby is in pain. And, it is up to me to help him find the path to endure it. His making sense of it may take a lifetime. In the meantime, I am an amateur counselor, so, he is also in professional counseling, to ensure that any thoughts and feelings he may be unsure of sharing with me, still have a safe place to land and help in his processing.
I have zero regrets that his father and I are divorced. Perhaps the only regret is that it should have happened four years ago. What makes it difficult for my children are the boundaries I set. Decided the physical boundary needed to be deeper than lines in sand and more impenetrable than kryptonite. For me, this means exchanging children at the door with a hello and goodbye. That door guards my heart.
I cannot be an effective healer of my children’s pain unless I first place myself in the same path.
All imprisonment starts in the mind.
Feelings of imprisonment can be released and replaced with a sense of freedom when healing takes place.
One never knows the extent of scarred hearts. We can only imagine. Since I’m a tough cookie and my blood courses through their veins I am at peace knowing the strength they carry in the depths of their soul. I am at peace knowing they will one day understand that the love their mother and father have for them, extends unending past the love they once had for one another…