The Green-Eyed Mother

I have never felt envy or jealousy to a great extent in my life.

And I know the words are not synonymous, but I am jealous.

I see friends and family whose kids aren’t afflicted with the mental delusion that somehow they were born in the wrong body. And that makes me jealous. Because my son is so afflicted.

I see people I know, people I do not know, whose kids aren’t taking drugs harmful to their longterm health. Whose kids don’t take wrong-sex hormones to develop a body appearance they never should experience.

And I’m jealous. Because my son takes multiple drugs daily to maintain a body he thinks is healthy, but is not. He has become a lifelong addict.

I see people I know whose biggest worries with their adult kids pertain to everyday issues: work, personal life, health, and happiness all on a scale I see as “normal.”

And I’m jealous. Because my son is on a path which has affected his work situation, his personal life, his health, and his happiness, and it is only going to get worse. His plans to mutilate his body are immutable.

Sure, everyone has problems. Everyone’s kids have problems.

But I would give anything, most literally anything to not have the worries and problems and envy that I have.

This isn’t a pity party.

But I’ve had to get in touch with emotions over an issue I never thought I would have to contend with as a mother - never even knew existed - and those emotions include fear, trauma, deep depression, anxiety, anger, helplessness, and yes, envy.

I am jealous of the acquaintances I have who have told me, “that’s still your child, nothing has really changed!” Because their kids are getting married, and becoming fathers and they have absolutely no idea how this feels. And they never will.

And by the way: everything has changed. My son still has a lovely sense of humor, but apart from that, I do not have the ability to relate to him like I used to, because looming between us is his delusion that he should be a woman, and his plan to make his body look like one, at the expense of his health. Both physically and mentally.

I see engagement announcements, pregnancy announcements, grandchild photos and videos and I am so jealous I cocoon into myself and shut out the world.

I see my friends and acquaintances having family dinners and family holidays and even birthday celebrations together, and all their kids are there.

That makes me jealous too; because my younger son - a victim as collateral damage - will not join our table or our gatherings or even be in the same room as his afflicted brother. And so, my family - once a happy family of 4 - is fractured.

I was taught not to look in someone else’s back yard. My mom used to say, “you put your troubles on the table, and I’ll put mine on the table. We’ll both end up walking away with our own.”

But that is not the case here.

I do not wish this on anyone.

But for once, I wish I could put my troubles on a table - any table - and walk away with the problems of someone whose child is not captured by this psychosis.

I know for a fact that nothing is going to change.

So I will have to live with the fear, trauma, deep depression, anxiety, anger, and helplessness.

I’ll just carry it all inside like the heaviness my heart has taken on these past 7 years.

And I will add envy to the list.