0 comment Monday, May 19, 2014 | admin
A woman sits on a chair in a room. The room has two doors and no windows. On one door a sign says 'do not exit' and on the other door a sign says 'do not enter'.
That's me. I'm sat here, with two difficult children having pushed me to the end of sanity over two years and I need a break. However, when I do have a break, leave the children with my Husband, or relatives, or put them in clubs, my Son gets stressed and becomes violent. I'm trapped. There is no way to get out and no where I'm allowed to go.
Yesterday, I let the children do an after school sports club. It was against my better judgement. They can be vile after clubs. Tiredness, low blood sugar levels, and having to 'be good' for that extra hour; they find it tough. I thought I'd let them start next week. But, no, they were so keen and I so wanted that extra hour, so I let them do it.
Son was moody when I picked him up. His sister had won a certificate and he hadn't. I should have treated him like tinder on a dry day, but I didn't.
He exploded over some minor issue. He verbally abused me and Husband as he crashed around his room like a wild animal, then spent the evening wrecking stuff in his room whilst the vilest words came out of his mouth. At first he was in a rage, but the chilling thing was that after a while he calmed down and continued to break his things out of pure nastiness. He even ripped up the little framed picture his granddad had painted for him when he first came to live with us of Thomas the Tank Engine.
I can't get over that. How much hate do you have in you to do something like that out of pure spite? And I'll never forget the venom in his eyes as he called me all the names under the sun. I have never, in all my near 40 years, felt such force of anger projected at me. He has never verbally abused me before, and I've never felt hated before.
I hardly slept. Imagine if you had been abused on the street for nothing, just a stranger had come up to you and threatened you and started smashing things up besides you, and how you might feel afterwards, vulnerable, shaky, scared, upset. Then imagine the person who abused you was sleeping in the next room, and could abuse you the next day and the day after that, and every day for all the long years that stretch ahead of you.
He's getting worse. I worry he will hurt himself, or his Sister or our beloved pets.
I phoned our Social Worker. She told me to phone CAMHS on Monday and impress upon them that he needed urgent intervention. We have our fourth appointment with CAMHS on Tuesday, but so far all we have talked about with this psychiatrist is our adoption journey and parenting styles. We first went to them over six months ago when Son had tried to suffocate himself with a plastic bag and since then his behaviour has been getting progressively worse. When he attacked his grandmother it's like he's broken a taboo and seen how bad he can be, and he's willing to go there again.
I did hold sympathy for him before now. I was always able to hold the thought how awful it must be for him to be hurting this much. I've lost that at the moment. I don't feel any sympathy for him, I just feel scared of him and what he can do.
I see the year stretching ahead, dotted with school holidays, and I can't stand the thought of being in charge of him alone. He screamed his way through last summer, what will he do this summer?
And yet, the payback after clubs and such is so terrible, that the only thing I can think of to do would be to stick him in some club for kids with emotional and behavioural problems. For that I'm going to have to get funding and, in case you hadn't noticed, funding for all services, especially children's services, is being cut.
Whilst writing this, Son came in of his own volition and said he was sorry about last night, he didn't mean to swear. I accepted his apology without any warmth, but the trouble with me is that my attachment style dictates that I cut dead anyone who I feel is toxic to me. I just do not tolerate anyone I don't like. And right now, I don't like him.
That's me. I'm sat here, with two difficult children having pushed me to the end of sanity over two years and I need a break. However, when I do have a break, leave the children with my Husband, or relatives, or put them in clubs, my Son gets stressed and becomes violent. I'm trapped. There is no way to get out and no where I'm allowed to go.
Yesterday, I let the children do an after school sports club. It was against my better judgement. They can be vile after clubs. Tiredness, low blood sugar levels, and having to 'be good' for that extra hour; they find it tough. I thought I'd let them start next week. But, no, they were so keen and I so wanted that extra hour, so I let them do it.
Son was moody when I picked him up. His sister had won a certificate and he hadn't. I should have treated him like tinder on a dry day, but I didn't.
He exploded over some minor issue. He verbally abused me and Husband as he crashed around his room like a wild animal, then spent the evening wrecking stuff in his room whilst the vilest words came out of his mouth. At first he was in a rage, but the chilling thing was that after a while he calmed down and continued to break his things out of pure nastiness. He even ripped up the little framed picture his granddad had painted for him when he first came to live with us of Thomas the Tank Engine.
I can't get over that. How much hate do you have in you to do something like that out of pure spite? And I'll never forget the venom in his eyes as he called me all the names under the sun. I have never, in all my near 40 years, felt such force of anger projected at me. He has never verbally abused me before, and I've never felt hated before.
I hardly slept. Imagine if you had been abused on the street for nothing, just a stranger had come up to you and threatened you and started smashing things up besides you, and how you might feel afterwards, vulnerable, shaky, scared, upset. Then imagine the person who abused you was sleeping in the next room, and could abuse you the next day and the day after that, and every day for all the long years that stretch ahead of you.
He's getting worse. I worry he will hurt himself, or his Sister or our beloved pets.
I phoned our Social Worker. She told me to phone CAMHS on Monday and impress upon them that he needed urgent intervention. We have our fourth appointment with CAMHS on Tuesday, but so far all we have talked about with this psychiatrist is our adoption journey and parenting styles. We first went to them over six months ago when Son had tried to suffocate himself with a plastic bag and since then his behaviour has been getting progressively worse. When he attacked his grandmother it's like he's broken a taboo and seen how bad he can be, and he's willing to go there again.
I did hold sympathy for him before now. I was always able to hold the thought how awful it must be for him to be hurting this much. I've lost that at the moment. I don't feel any sympathy for him, I just feel scared of him and what he can do.
I see the year stretching ahead, dotted with school holidays, and I can't stand the thought of being in charge of him alone. He screamed his way through last summer, what will he do this summer?
And yet, the payback after clubs and such is so terrible, that the only thing I can think of to do would be to stick him in some club for kids with emotional and behavioural problems. For that I'm going to have to get funding and, in case you hadn't noticed, funding for all services, especially children's services, is being cut.
Whilst writing this, Son came in of his own volition and said he was sorry about last night, he didn't mean to swear. I accepted his apology without any warmth, but the trouble with me is that my attachment style dictates that I cut dead anyone who I feel is toxic to me. I just do not tolerate anyone I don't like. And right now, I don't like him.
Labels: Adoption