So - I broke down last week. Hit rock bottom or so to speak. My last post in March was obviously that of a desperate mother.
I spent the day passing emails back and forth with the Youth Officer (YO). She gave me some strategies and convinced me to give B some time. She told me that she didn’t see him as the type of kid that needed boot camp or something similar - because that’s where I was headed with him. She informed me that in her experience, that he really needed some counseling - that he is depressed and angry. I can see where she’s coming from. I’ve always felt that too, but there was one thing after another for a couple of weeks there and I lost track of what was real. Before one crisis was over, another began and never getting the chance to ‘come up for air’, I panicked and was soon drowning in my own dramatic misconceptions.
It was finally the end of the day - finally Friday - and I was looking forward to the weekend when B spends most of his time away from home (sad to say but true), out with friends. Around 4pm, the Social Worker (SW) from the high school stopped by. The SW is the one that I’ve been talking with about B from way back in December when we put him on the diversion program for his attendance. Mr. B had been doing well, I was checking in with the SW less often and thought that things were going well. I was to be disappointed once again, and just after the YO had assured me that we were on the right track.
SW told me that B had recently become more defiant, openly defiant with them and was not living up to his agreement for the program. He had done so well - he had climbed ever-higher and was doing everything right. Then he fell. I have no idea why. He began not checking in, and not bringing things to work on during study hall. This day had been his last chance to turn things around and he’d blown it. He didn’t bring work to study hall. The SW asked him to get a magazine, read an article and then write a brief summary of the article and what he thought of it. Apparently that angered B because he read the article, he wrote the report and turned it in at the end of study hall. Then SW read the report. It was about testosterone. The first 2 sentences were okay and then it turned out to be one of the biggest, most pig-headed, chauvinistic things I’ve ever read. There were sexual innuendos, talking down about girls, macho attitude, etc. It was vulgar.
This ‘report’ he wrote, coupled with his non-participation in the program and open defiance, SW felt he was ‘losing him’ and was considering ‘filing’ on him. That was the agreement. Work the program and we’ll leave you alone. Don’t work the program and he’d file ‘Child in need of care’ for truancy. I told him to file. I was done at this point. I wanted no more.
In talking later with the SW, I asked him what I should expect. He said that the judge would simply want to know what action(s) I’d taken to try to resolve the situation. The SW told me to tell the judge everything I’d done and said that I should have no trouble as I’ve done so much to try to help him. So - they filed the following Wednesday morning. That was April 5th. I’ve yet to hear anything from the court but I imagine we’ll receive papers any day now.
I hate B for doing this. And the sad part is that he’s doing this to hurt me and all he’s doing is hurting himself. His brain simply isn’t able to process the long term affects of his actions. I hope that the judge is a hard ass and scares the crap out of him. Who knows what will happen. It will definitely be interesting to see how B responds to the judge. One wrong word and the boy’s going to be in juvenile hall or in foster care. At this point - again - sad to say - but it would be a blessing.
Am I bad to feel this way? Surely I’m not the only parent that’s ever been through this or felt that their life would be better minus one. I know for a fact that I put my mom through something similar, though I wasn’t nearly this bad. I guess paybacks are hell.
As I cried each of the 50 times those two weeks, I found myself sobbing to my mommy. I craved the simplicity and love that once was. Way back when we’d warm our hands on the popcorn popper lid after she finished her late shift at the hospital. Back when I thought my middle name was a bad word because she only used it when I was in trouble. I felt horrible for how I’d treated her. How I’d made her cry all those nights. Now I knew how it felt and I felt incredibly guilty that I’d hurt her like this and incredibly empty. It feels terrible. I think the only thing worse would be the death of your child. Nothing compares to the pain and I cannot even describe the emptiness in your heart when you feel you’re losing them and there’s nothing you can do. It’s like seeing them stumble at the top of the stairs - everything in slow motion - and you can’t move, can’t save them before they tumble down, and then you see them laying at the bottom, broken and bruised, and you blame yourself because you shouldn’t have let it happen. You’re supposed to teach them not to horse play near the stairs.
So. What to do? We’re awaiting a court date and we’re awaiting a counseling session on Thursday with Bob. Not much to do now. I’ve laid off of B. I didn’t confront him about the report or for not following the program rules. I’ve not really given up but I’ve given us some space. I’m giving both of us some time to cool down. He’s still expected to do his chores and follow the house rules, but I’m being very careful about what I choose to fight about. I’m choosing my battles more wisely for now.
I was emailing the YO again and in our discussion, I came to the realization that I probably needed to lay off of him. I was so angry with him and the bad news was coming so often that I just automatically had a chip on my shoulder when it came to dealing with him. I’ve tried to take things for what they are. I’m trying not to let the culmination of all the wrong-doings dictate how I deal with the small stuff. I’m trying to see each situation for what it is. Each situation as a separate incident instead of rolling up everything together. He’s been a little better - certainly easier to deal with. I’m not letting him dictate the mood in the house. I’m not allowing myself to show my hurt to him. He’s not bothered by guilt at all - I decided that I need to present a strong front. Not too strong but not wimpy either.
So far, so good. I fully expect more challenges, and I just hope that I can learn how I can deal with them for the sanity of myself, my family and my home. I’m learning to let go and let God. I’m learning that I’ve taught him to treat me this way AND that now it’s time for the next chapter. I’m learning that I cannot control him or his behavior. I DO have to guide him to make good choices but the harder I push, the further I push him away. I’m learning that I can control how I feel and how I react, but I can’t control how he feels or reacts. I must take care of me. I must love me. I’m learning that I must love him enough to hurt his feelings sometimes. I’m learning that I cannot take his angry outbursts personally. I’m learning something new everyday, and I’m getting better.
