This is wearing me out
I'd say not a week goes by that my son doesn't have a violent screaming fit, threatening to harm himself or call DFCS or 911 if he doesn't get his way. It destroys me that he's got all this anxiety, and that I haven't been able to lessen it after 4 1/2 years. The traffic accident in December was the latest thing to happen to him, or maybe it was returning to live schooling in February. Regardless, before that was a year of pandemic and isolation. On top of being on the cusp of puberty. On top of being ripped away from his first foster mom, and before that his birth family after the firs that killed his beloved older brother. On top of having a father who was nowhere to be found and a mother and grandmother who passed him back and forth, depending on which one wasn't in jail or high or drunk. They loved him, in their way, but weren't up to the job of parenting. I don't know if he was physically abused, but it wouldn't surprise me.
He had a couple of rages when he was in my foster son, and it was because of rages like that that his first foster mom had had to let him go - they were disrupting the other kids she was looking after. After I adopted him, though, they stopped. Until they started back.
He's in so much pain, and he lashes out, as kids do. But I'm finding when it's directed at YOU, it really cuts and, after he's spent, I'm just a wreck. I try to hide it, and keep calm and let him say his peace, but damn, it takes a toll. I'm pretty much useless afterwards. Like now. I wonder how much empathy I have left - enough to get him through childhood, his teen years ( Holy crap, I can't even imagine)?
I've got to be there for him, and I will be, but every one of these episodes takes it out of me. Every time he says he'll jump off a bridge or a building, or says he'll take a knife and harm himself, my blood chills. Every screaming, crying meltdown, every threat to get unadopted from me, kills a little piece of me, and makes me feel I'm not doing right by him.
Tonight it was about not going back to live school. I need him to go. I need the time. I need him to be in person in front of his teachers so he'll concentrate and remember what it's like to be with others. But if he's getting this worked up about it, am I helping him or hurting him? Is it worth it? Can I make his life easier by letting him stay home? Can I take one thing off his plate, even if it means I'm giving up my day, my few hours of Bill Time. I don't know.
I have to save the story of Linda's apple watch for another day. I'm just done.
He had a couple of rages when he was in my foster son, and it was because of rages like that that his first foster mom had had to let him go - they were disrupting the other kids she was looking after. After I adopted him, though, they stopped. Until they started back.
He's in so much pain, and he lashes out, as kids do. But I'm finding when it's directed at YOU, it really cuts and, after he's spent, I'm just a wreck. I try to hide it, and keep calm and let him say his peace, but damn, it takes a toll. I'm pretty much useless afterwards. Like now. I wonder how much empathy I have left - enough to get him through childhood, his teen years ( Holy crap, I can't even imagine)?
I've got to be there for him, and I will be, but every one of these episodes takes it out of me. Every time he says he'll jump off a bridge or a building, or says he'll take a knife and harm himself, my blood chills. Every screaming, crying meltdown, every threat to get unadopted from me, kills a little piece of me, and makes me feel I'm not doing right by him.
Tonight it was about not going back to live school. I need him to go. I need the time. I need him to be in person in front of his teachers so he'll concentrate and remember what it's like to be with others. But if he's getting this worked up about it, am I helping him or hurting him? Is it worth it? Can I make his life easier by letting him stay home? Can I take one thing off his plate, even if it means I'm giving up my day, my few hours of Bill Time. I don't know.
I have to save the story of Linda's apple watch for another day. I'm just done.