Thursday, May 23, 2013

Don't Tell The Neighbors

I think every family has secrets, ours is no exception. However, sometimes those secrets get a little out of control and can bring you to a breaking point. I'm there. If I'm honest with myself, I broke a long time ago. In an attempt to make sense of what's going on I'm going to write it out. Please don't expect this to make sense or be clear or in any kind of order.
Our family has been hit pretty hard with a few things lately, and by family I mean mostly my son and I, but we thoughtfully share our crazy with everyone.
We're not sure where it comes from and we're not sure what to do about it because everything we thought would fix it didn't and now we're kinda floundering around, lost. My son is not an easy child, that much everyone knows, but what we don't tell the neighbors is how bad it really is. My son lives in a constant state of unprovoked, uncontrollable rage. He is violent, all day every day. He attacks every member of our family, two and four legged. Some of these attacks have left the victim needing medical attention. I live in fear. I'm deathly afraid of a six year old. I have been afraid of him for months now. I cry and shake when I know he's coming home from school. I spend my weekends walking on egg shells. I can't sleep because I'm afraid he's going to attack someone in the middle of the night. I have all of our knives out of reach and anything else that could be used as a weapon. He is unstable, he is dangerous, he is not "normal" and we can't fix it. We have come to the realization that we're going to have to drug the child. This is not something we take lightly. Both of us stand steadfast against turning children into zombies. However, I don't know what else to do. We've done the classes, he's in therapy, we've tried all the books, the programs, the punishments.. nothing helps. We've been doing all of this for three years and it just keeps getting worse. It just pisses him off. They say it gets worse before it gets better, they say it in all the programs, but he's gonna kill one of us someday and I can't sit back and wait for it to happen. I have waited long enough and I feel like I'm playing Russian roulette. Who's it gonna be? Four year old Pita? The dog? Maybe it'll be me. Who knows.
This is of course very stressful for all of us, but for some reason I've internalized it. I'm a horrible mom, I've failed my child, my child has no future because I can't help him, I'm drugging him for god's sake! I can't do this job, I shouldn't have signed up for it, he'd be better off without me. Someone else could do this, someone else would've stopped this before it got this bad, someone else would know what to do, someone else wouldn't be shaking and crying every day, someone else wouldn't be having panic attacks multiple times a week. Someone else, but not me. I'm a mess. I'm fucking insane. I can't do anything right. I'm weak, I'm stupid, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing over here. But please don't tell the neighbors. The neighbors think I'm Mary Sunshine with the clean house, the smart kids, the homeschooling, knitting, baking, amazing, selfless mom. They can't know what happens here. They can't know what goes on inside this house, inside of my head. If they knew they'd be horrified and the only thing I'm clinging to are those moments when I can stand on the porch and pretend to be normal. I can pretend to be happy and I can pretend to be a good mom. Maybe if I pretend long enough or hard enough, maybe it can be true for just a few minutes. Just a couple moments of good in the middle of hell. Something, anything good even if it's fleeting. Even if it's fake, it's better than not having it at all.

4 comments:

  1. This is not your fault. It is a result of his genetic cocktail and what happened to him in his birth mother's belly and what happened to him before he came to you. You ARE a good mom. You've gotten him all the help you can. Giving him drugs to help handle the rage will help him, not harm him. Not all drugs are bad; not all drugs turn kids into zombies. If he had diabetes, would you think poorly of yourself for giving him insulin? No. The drugs will work on this awful disease of rage in him. They will help make him healthy. Bringing safety to your home is going to help all of you. You owe to the other children, your husband, your pets, and to him.

    You are brave, you are loving. You are just at your wits' end and scared to death. You are by no means a failure. You are a super woman.

    Please know that you are loved and supported out here in the interwebs.

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    1. Thank you! That means so much to me, you have no idea. And you're right. If he had a life threatening disease that could be treated I would of course get him meds for it. Immediately, no questions asked. I needed that put into perspective. :)

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  2. I worked in treatment care with extreme kids for years. It's true... drugs can help! If he's a zombie then it's simply not the right dosage or type of drug. You try again. Do be prepared though that it can take time to find the right dose and type of drugs.
    I believe in the drugs for these extreme cases btw. It's like giving the kid a chance to start learning without the brain flipping into its out of control state.

    And I've seen many a kid need to come into care to help. It does not mean there is a parenting problem. I've seen all types of kids with all types of parents. It also does not mean the family gave up on the child (permanent care is very rare in my experience), but it does mean they took the brave step to get everyone the help they need. I'm not suggesting to drop the boy off somewhere tomorrow, but please don't think of it as a failure on your part if you need to. Never mind how you would feel if the boy hurt you or someone else - how will he feel when he eventually does (and he will) come to understand what he did? Take care - I know it feels like Hell on Earth right now.

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  3. You already know what I think. And that is that you aren't alone and you are awesome....blah blah blah. I don't have to post it all over again. We got your back! No matter how far apart we are! {{HUGS}}

    P.S. Got any duct tape? I've heard it works wonders! (Ok TOTALLLLLLLLLY JOKING, no one choke me!)

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