Withdrawal: When There Are No Kids Home Left To "Helicopter."

Helicopter

I've  got the shakes; my mouth is dry and I am wandering my house alone.  I am unshowered and in my uniform;  the same flannel pants and college sweatshirt I've been wearing for the last three days.  Although I promised myself I wouldn't, I sit down at the computer and I log on to his high school grading system. The message pops onto the screen:  "Student no longer enrolled." Same message as all of last week, yet sitting and staring at it doesn't seem to help it to sink in. Cyber space has it right.  My student is no longer enrolled.  He's gone and I can't stalk him anymore. My son is off to college, off having fun, off not needing me. I think I might hate him.  He's ungrateful, unresponsive and seems to have found me unnecessary.  I don't understand how he's doing it.  I'm not there with him to organize his life, do his laundry, remind him to do homework, fill in his white board calendar, leave his lacrosse gear at the end of his bed, or buy his special shaving cream and favorite deodorant.The reality is that he's not only survived, he's thrived.  I keep waiting for the call or the letter from the school notifying me that he has been placed on academic probation, or is actually no longer enrolled, but so far, nothing.  I can't email teachers to make sure he's handed things in, to ask them why he got an 82 on an essay when I clearly thought it was an 88 especially because I helped to write it.  Ok, I didn't write it, but I certainly gave him suggestions and stood by in case he needed any help. Day to day, I have no idea what he's doing or eating, who he's talking to or what he's wearing and, it's killing me.  When I text him to see how it's going, to ask about classes, girls, new friends, food or anything else that seems reasonable to wonder about, I get no response.  Eventually, when I text and ask, "are you alive?"  He responds, "no."  Really??  This is the thanks I get for getting him where he is today?  So ungrateful.  If I send a card with a Dominos gift card in it, I get the text, "thanks, got the card."  For food or money, he responds.  When I try to make an actual phone call, and we actually get on the phone together, I know he's watching the clock.  He will stay engaged for a few minutes and then he's done.  I've learned to get to the point, tell him I love him and hang up.  I've also learned not to ask too many questions.Then, the other day, he called me when he was having some trouble registering for the new semester.  I was high on that for a week.  Then, unsolicited, he texted me the following a few weeks ago, "got an 82 on the math test."  For him, this is an amazing accomplishment.  I cried with joy.  Not for the 82, but totally for the text. He wanted me to know! Although he has had a few miscues along the way, like missing his first and only class on the first day of classes because he went to the wrong room, or the fact that he slept through his “Study Skills and Time Management Class for Freshmen” midterm, something that I'm proud to say he didn't miss the irony of, he's managed without me.  I've had to come to terms with the fact that my need for him to need me is not really a reflection on him.He's not ungrateful, and he doesn't find me unnecessary.  He is an 18 year old boy living on his own for the first time.  He's succeeding and that should make me shout for joy, not mourn what once was.  After all, we raise them to leave us, to become independent and to succeed without us.  I'm thrilled that he's sharing his successes, and perhaps, if I leave him alone and try to satisfy my cravings for him with old videos and pictures, he will reach out for me more often."Leave them alone and they'll come home, wagging their tails behind them."  A mother can only hope...