I am an outsider. Looking into lives that I created but I am still an outsider. I don’t know what they are thinking, how they are feeling or what they want unless they tell me. Even then, no one seems to let go of everything.
As the outsider, I listened to the vulnerable moments he was enduring without telling me. Lying on the floor bawling. Angry and not knowing why. Easily bothered by others. I was heart-broken. As I was told of what was going on while he was in the room, I watched his face and could only imagine what he was feeling. As the outsider. It seemed as though the borage of verbal intervention would not come to an end. We walked into something that we were not ready for.
Thoughts were racing through my head. I couldn’t believe some of what I was hearing. Some of it sounded completely like his personality but other things we were unaware of as we are outsiders. That is what it must feel like to be a child looking into the lives of parents and adults. They are the outsiders looking in. We only divulge so much to the children and keep things hidden so they are not hurt.
I know how he feels because I too feel that way. I just didn’t know he felt that way. Being a parent, I didn’t tell him. I was trying to help him. I now see that if I would have talked to him about it, he would have had someone to confide in and talk with about his perception. Yet still, I am an outsider. No matter how much I disclose, I will always be the outsider. I am not in their heads and they will only contribute so much information.
As I sit on the outside watching the tears run down his face knowing I can not fix this, my heart aches and I want to sob. I don’t mind being an outsider to strangers and people I do not know so well but when it is someone I helped create, it has an overwhelming feeling attached to it. It is even more staggering knowing it is something I can not fix.
I do not like being an outsider. When it comes to my children, I never expected to be the outsider. I suppose this is what my parents felt like. My body has been over come by devastating feelings. Feelings that match theirs, yet I am still an outsider. The dreaded outsider….
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