I just yelled at my kid. In his face. To get his attention. Barely an eye blink reaction. Why is this so sad? Because I don’t yell at my kids. Ever. If I raise my voice it gets their attention. As far as I know he wasn’t yelled at before he came to us at 15 months. This is not a traumatic reality for him. So I yelled at M out of the blue to get his attention. Shake him. Didn’t phase him. One.bit. Was it wrong? I don’t think so. There is such a thing as righteous anger. And that’s what I feel. Trying to reach deep into his soul and find a human being inside. I.am.mad. I don’t show it with my temper or stomping or slamming doors. I wanted to see if there was an inkling of life inside this child.
I wanted to see why I’m sensing that his therapist truly can’t help him. That scares me. She’s the best. She’s salvaged our family from the rubble of B. She’s helped S to heal, with us doing the hard, everyday work. She asked me over and over again in our session what solid, practical things M is doing that shows he’s working. I just kept saying it’s not as oppressive as it is sometimes. I couldn’t give her one consistent area in his life that showed change. I said it felt like we connected in moments. Moments. A second here. A minute there. Nothing real or tangible. She didn’t say there was no hope because she’s a Christian as am I and there has to be hope or I will give up.
This weekend in our family life is not about him. I will NOT let this graduation be about M. It is Joshua’s day and our family’s celebration of a young man who has worked hard and loves the Lord. It is MY day because I have “officially” homeschooled him for 13 years but have been teaching him from birth. Four years ago with Rachel these two took it from us. It was still a joyous day but it was marred by worry and bad attention from my RADishes. There was no moment to breathe and relax and just be NORMAL.
I’m laying it all out here. My goal has always been to be transparent. Here you have it. You may judge me because I yelled. You may judge me for feeling hopeless. You may judge me because my younger two have taken so much from our family and I haven’t been able to stop it. You may judge me for not believing God can transform M. I do still believe that. I just don’t think it will be in our home with me as his mother. I think it is totally in his control.You may judge me because I’m airing family problems.
I’m tired. Weary. Heartbroken. I can’t play these word manipulation games anymore and argue with his lies. He refuses to believe that what he lives by is a lie. I can’t face the presence of evil in my home anymore.
I believe that what RAD kids steal from us is hope. And joy. I told M that. I’m sure it’s not therapeutic but it is true. Last night and today I’ve enjoyed family, celebrating Tim, planning my scrapbook room. Things that bring me joy. It’s like a tease of what could be one day down the road. We’re coming to the end of our active parenting stage. When we are totally responsible for the care and upbringing of our children. M and S are finishing 6th grade and somehow I will find a way for them to graduate from high school. I’m committed to that.
I told M I would never give up on him but that his life was in his own hands. That I have a plan. And I do. Job Corps is a possibility for him when he turns 16 if something doesn’t change. That’s in 4 years. At this point, unless my health or life circumstances demand it, I will not put him in public school. I will continue to provide caretaking love. And somehow along the way I hope I can “feel” better about all this. Renew my determination to want more and better for M. I want to do more than just survive. I’m just not sure it is possible.