(Not) A Perfect Parent

On the outside.... My heart feels like it is in a dark, isolated cave. I’m gripped by fear, it’s cold and unfeeling with a damp that chills me to the very core of my being. Light is a hope that is denied to me, my lungs try to breath in air which seemingly dissipates with every try. I am consumed with thoughts of what is to come, the fight that will take place, but not on the outside. The brain is a different organ. Its ideas can be without compassion, cold and calculated and angry, yet bold. It lies and betrays, it has to, it can’t let the heart win. It will keep knocking on a door with a chance that it will be answered. So who do I listen to? My heart that traps me in the dank, depressing cave, leaving me powerless and afraid? Or my brain that can be mistaken as being cruel and unfeeling. However, there must be a balance, a face-off, which will win, which will survive? But being on the outside, it's like your breath catching the window, as a steaming mass appears,

Why is it that social workers don’t always see the big picture? Yes I know that therapy is very important when a child has had a traumatic experience and that the welfare and well-being of the child is paramount. But what about the parents? Why is the heart of every family (the parents) so often forgotten and left neglected, yet high expectations are placed upon them/us? We do matter and it is about time that our well-being wasn’t taken for granted. We are hanging on by a thread at times, but we are still hanging on! Being a parent is never an easy job, I know I second guess myself all the time. I look at different ways I could have handled certain situations differently. Spending a lot of time reflecting (crying in the bathroom) and coming up with different strategies with the hope that it will work better. After all, is this not just part of parenting? But believe me parenting adopted children is very different. The challenges that face us every day can only, at times, be describ