stroke of brilliance

Tonight I had to take one of my littles to gymnastics. When we got home and rounded the corner I saw the Big Kid in the front yard in his underwear. This is typical. When he runs out of the house, 80% of the time he is in his underwear. As soon as he saw me, he ran inside and straight out into the back yard. When I got out back, he was wielding a stick of bamboo trying to hit at me. I took it away easily. He began hollering that he didn't to live here and he wanted to "get away from you people!"

I said, "Ok, let's go." I held his arm and walked him through the house back out the front door. He was yelling the whole time "Dad, save me. She's kicking me out!" and "I hate you!". I marched him out the door and straight to the car.

He asked where we were going. I said, "You said you wanted to leave so I am giving you a ride." I drove to a fairly nearby, desolate looking industrial area. I stopped the car and turned it off. He asked what I was doing. I said, "Looking for a place for you to stay. This looks pretty good. No fridge, no tv, but there are some cages over there you can sleep in if mean dogs or wild animals find you in the night." He bowed his head and stayed buckled. (I kindof worried he would call my bluff, but I held firm)


He asked if I was kicking him out. I said "No, I love you. You are the one that wants to leave. I thought I would help." We sat in silence for a good 5 minutes. I asked him if he wanted to get out or come home. He simply said, "I can't decide." He kept saying, "Would you miss me?" I answered "Of course, but we are down with you threatening to run away and saying you don't want to live with your family!" We sat for another 2 or 3 minutes. He said he "couldn't figure out what he wanted to do" so I told him we could keep looking. I found another place down the road.

I told him that this drainage tube looked fairly inviting. I said, "I don't think there will be too many raccoons in there. And hey look, there is a tarp over by that building you can use for a blanket." He refused to move. I went around to his side of the car and asked him to get out and look at his new place to live. He refused. I crouched down beside the car and told him that I would prefer he stayed in the house where he was safe, but if this was what he wanted I understood. I told him it was time to make a decision. He said, "I want to go home."

I asked, "Why?" He answered, his bed, his blanket, tv, food and a place to keep him safe. It took me several prompts to get him to say "the people". Sad. All of those things were way more important than his family. That speaks volumes to me.

On the way home we saw some cute girls sitting in the grass. I asked him if he wanted to get out and show the girls his underwear. I am that bad!

Now he is home and I have to endure him telling me he loves me 5920 times tonight. Lord have mercy.

(I told him that we were taking pictures of his two choices so that he could remember what his options were)

rad

When my son came to live with us he had many, many diagnosis. Reactive Attachment Disorder was one that floated in and out depending on the mood of the therapist (who was a joke!). I always knew there were some attachment issues. I have no idea if he would technically be considered RAD right now, but I have no doubt that what I am dealing with is attachment related. Here are his best tricks:

He has no issue hurting others. Sometimes, for the most part, it is simply a case of impulse control and poor understanding of cause and effect. I like to tell myself this. I can see the delight he gets from hurting things on his face sometimes. I am not sure if this is increasing in frequency or I am just better at seeing it. He typically saves the really mean, dangerous stuff for the animals, but I can see slight things aimed at the littles now. He has really no remorse. If he shows concern it is because he got caught, not because he is sad her hurt someone else. He has killed baby chickens and pet fish. We think he caused the death of two cockatiels and he recently tried to kill our dogs and attempts to hurt them (and the cat) DAILY. It is a miracle he has not been bitten.

Love and Hate. I think he does love us. But I think that to him love is fluid. I think he loves and not loves us numerous times a day. It is not an all consuming, unconditional love. He loves us when he wants something, and hates us when he doesn't get his way. He is constantly saying, "You hate me. I should've said no when they asked if I wanted you to adopt me." or he asks to go live in jail or the hospital because we are not nice. He has no issue separating from us and thinks everyone he meets is his new best friend adult and child alike.

Desire to please. I think this is similar to love for him. He desires to please us when he thinks he will receive something for his efforts. He could care less about pleasing when he is not receiving a reward in his mind. He is unable to make himself do something he knows is right when he is in a particular foul mood. Sometimes he is physically unable to even agree with something as basic as "Can you see me?" when he wants to be defiant.

Inability to make a decision. He is completely unable to make a decision sometimes. He will ask for a certain food and once he is given it he will no longer want it. If you go to take it away he will holler that he is starving and he wants the food. Immediately after it is put in front of him he will say, "I said I didn't want that stupid food." We could do this for hours. It is though he wants to argue and push other's buttons. I understand he feels these conflicts internally, but it is difficult to deal with it. If it frustrates me, he wins.

If he thinks no one is looking he is absolutely unable to do the right thing. He cannot and will not control any behavior he knows is wrong if he thinks someone cannot see him. His difficulties with object permanence do not allow him to understand that others have ears and can hear you calling the dog 2 feet from them even if they are not staring you in the face. This boggles my mind. I can be sitting directly next to him and if I am reading something he thinks I cannot see him hitting the cat ON MY LAP. Swear to goodness. This is also when he is destructive. He likes to pick apart my plaster walls, unravel blankets or tear anything up he can.

I am not certain if you would consider his sexual acting out as being a part of RAD, but I do somewhat and I think bears mentioning. Someone said to me recently, " Once a kid is sexualized you cannot put that genie back in the bottle." So very true. He acts of for a couple different reasons in my opinion. I think he acts out due to his impulse controls issues due to his Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I also think he acts out because he has a low IQ and if he wans to do something he does it regardless of where he is or what he is doing. I think it also has to do with the attachment issues because he feels no connection to people and he has no qualms about hurting others.

Superficially charming. My child is the sweetest, most kid, helpful boy ou would ever meet. Unless of course you are his parent. He saves all his best tricks for us. He loves to help people and will charm the socks off others. This is definite RAD behavior. Why should he punish them? They are not the people caring for him. They are not the ones who took the place of his mother who neglected and abused him. They are not the people who could be just as hurtful as her if he let them. Get it? Not fun.

Lying. Lord have mercy the child would have a cat in his hands and say "I did not touch the cat!" and he will swear you are going to believe him. He gets angry when you tell him that you are not asking a question because you know the answer. He will deny til the day is over.

Clingy? He is on me the minute I walk in the door from work. He must ask me for a hug 3,846 times a day. I used to feel bad about rationing them but many therapists made me understand that it is not healthy to be that clingy and inappropriate. I do not deny him, I just tell him I am busy and I will get to him in a minute, or I say, "Am I doing something right now?" He usually accepts that well. . . then asks 45 seconds later. It is tiring and I feel badly for not hugging him every time he asks. The problem is I would never get anything done. Most of the time I ignore it like I didn't hear him.

Entitlement. This is a HUGE one for us. He thinks he is entitled to whatever he wants. He should have the same everything as both other kids. If one has a popsicle and one has an ice cream cone he should get BOTH. He is constantly concerned about what everyone else has and what they are doing. If a child at school is in soccer he HAS to be in soccer, no matter that he cannot kick a ball to save his life and has no concept for the game. He will argue and be defiant about it all day long. We always end up being the bad guy because we won't let him do ANYTHING!

I understand how those seeing this type of listing and then seeing a child like ours would think that we are bad parents. I understand how a child like this could present totally different for other. I get that people would think that I am horrible for not hugging my child or saying that the hugs he gives give me the heebie-jeebies. It sounds awful to me. The problem is that you cannot fully comprehend that trauma that RAD causes to the WHOLE family until you live it.

We don't hate our kids, we hate the RAD.
We don't wish our kids gone, we wish the RAD gone.
We don't get sick to our stomach looking at our children, we wanna puke on RAD.

The problem comes when we are unable to separate the RAD from the child. Sometimes to road to healing is long. Sometimes the road to healing takes detours we never thought we could endure. Sometimes the road brings us bumps and gives us bruises that show on the outside.

Had I not had the network of moms and blogs I have had the last few years I would be dead.

I am serious. Dead.

If I didn't have these women, I would've felt like a failure as a parent and felt so desperately alone that I couldn't take it. The sense of failure you feel is one I would not wish on anyone. The RAD does win. It wins nightly as I put my head on the pillow and reminds me I have not made progress. It rears its ugly head in the morning when I don't want to wake my child for fear of what the day brings. It wins whether I let it win or not. It wins when it survives. It is survival.

It is HARD.

It is DRAINING.

It is EMBARRASSING.

It is so very LONELY.

Sometimes the child treats each parent differently causing triangulation issues. A dad may see things the mother never gets. The mother may have victories that sends the dad's relationships tail spinning.

It is a rough road. A road no one else can understand unless you have lived it.

It make us parents feel like failures and creeps.

We are well aware that the things we say aren't normal. We get it.

The problem is, others don't. They see what they wish to see. They see what their experiences allow them to see.

I get it. I get the hurt and the confusion. I wish I was behind that veil too. I wish I didn't know what RAD was. I wish I didn't know what it could do to my family and my child.

I wish I never had to experience this, but above all, I wish my boy never had to experience this.

In a perfect world . . .

the goo

I am not sure why, but my depression and anxiety has always been very visual for me. When I think about how I am feeling or try to assess the depth of what I am feeling, I see it as a picture. Today I feel as though there is a black goo threatening to envelope me. I feel better today and I feel like it is holding, waiting for a break in the armor. It is a blob hanging over my head. Right now, I feel like I am strong enough to hold to away. To keep it hanging, but I am well aware that one break and it can begin to attach itself to my head and ooze slowly down my body enveloping me in it's gooey, black darkness.

Sometimes I try to place something physically between me and the blob. I imagine an umbrella. An umbrella of good things. An umbrella of things I can do right. Sometimes that umbrella can be particularly hard to open, sometimes it springs to life and I can rest easy. Sometimes the umbrella is a golf size umbrella and sometimes it is a kiddie umbrella.

Hears hoping the battle of the goo continues to go well today.

rough day

Today has been a rough day. I am tired and I am disheartened. The big kid with FAS is on my last nerve. His incessant talking is driving me to the edge of sanity. He is stressing about the last day of school on Monday and I am certain he is taking it out on me. I am the one he always takes it out on. His mother allowed others to harm him. His mother drank and smoked pot to medicate herself from his behaviors. Her own mental illness would not allow her to get past her own needs and wants to care for him. I am the substitute for his anger at her. He is pretty decent until I walk in the door with the smaller children and then all heck breaks loose. The ugliness, the whining, the constant talking, the crying, the aggressiveness. It becomes tiring.

I am struggling with a bad case of plantar's fascitis in my right foot.. Last week I was unable to walk without excruciating pain. I saw the doctor and got a shot that normally helps. Last week it did not. I am fairly certain that the prednisone in the shot throws off my medication and causes some OCD behaviors as well as anxiety. It makes me incredibly hot and my skin all red. It sucks to go through all that and not be better! Because the shot did not work, I am on a nasty anti-inflamatory. It makes me dizzy and disoriented. I think it messes with my meds too. Plain and simple I am a mess!

I knew I was done for tonight when in the middle of cooking dinner I got distracted and found myself sitting in the shower scrubbing the walls. I shook my head at myself and walked out. As soon as I did, I took care of what was on the stove and started scrubbing the kitchen sink. It took me a minute to regroup and try to focus myself.

Today at work I went to the boss (my mother) to talk about something and ended up crying about something unrelated at work that I really hadn't even realized was bothering me. She kind of looked at me like I was loosing my mind. She knew I was sliding into unwanted territory. I could see her concern on my face. While she understand my OCD and my anxiety, she really has no idea about the depression and suicidal thoughts I struggle with. She has her own issues and I have never felt like I could unload that on her. She has been in denial about her own OCD and her control issues for years. I have always thought that she would take my unknown issues as an affront to her and cause her more trouble. And sometimes I just want her to be my mommy and not look at me differently for the fact that I would take the life she gave to me and throw it all away. I don't want to always think that she is assessing my mental state.

I am very much in the state of "fixer". When I feel like this I want to make everything better for everyone else. I worry about things going wrong. I think that because I feel so freaking crappy about myself I want to fix things. I feel so badly about myself I want to help others so that maybe, just maybe I will seem like I am useful. I want to feel essential. I want to prove to someone that I can be valuable. I guess if I feel like someone else values what I can do for them that maybe it will change my opinion of myself. I am not sure I have ever really realized that before. That is why me vomiting this onto the page is so very helpful.

I hate this. I feel like I am on constant vibration. I don't feel like I can relax. My mind races. It is tiring. Perhaps an extra Zoloft and a good night's sleep will turn things around. Let's hope I find myself in a better place tomorrow.

long time no see

It has been awhile since I posted. Life has exploded into ugliness from the FAS child. It has been rough. The good news is the funk that drew me in a bit more than a week ago is gone. I worked hard and I clawed my way out of it. The husband has been better. I have been better. It is good.

I think God knew I could take no more. I had some very kind comments from friends who had no idea what I was going through. I had a few online friends contact me and give me some fabulous words of wisdom. I really needed that. It was a lifeline.

Today the oldest came home from school (he is in an MoMh all inclusive classroom). He was very disturbed and refused the food that was put in front of him. That never happens. The child will eat poop on a stick. (our running joke) I had to run an errand so I took him with me. He immediately told me that a boy in school showed him a "very innapwopwiate picture". I asked what it was and he said, "It was a girl with no pants and one with a boy who had his penis in a girl's butt"

Holy Lord. I nearly wrecked the car.

Recall that he is a 6 year old in the body of a 16 year old.

Yikes!

We had a talk about parts. I explained that girl's have another part that boys don't and that is where the penis goes. You really should've seen his face. I nearly pee'd myself. I needed to explain because he was sexually molested in our house by another foster child. I needed him to know that is not typical. He then said, "Can we please stop talking about this?"

Holy cow. I really should've had that talk sooner, but it had not been necessary.

broken

The depression is settling in. It feels like it has a grip on my heart. My chest is heavy. I feel like I will never smile again. I want to cry at everything. I drove to get lunch this afternoon and I saw a big hole where they were working on the street. I wondered what it would be like to just drive into that deep hole.

I know I will be fine. I always am. The problem is that each and every time I go through this I feel like I leave a piece of me behind. I feel like I have to give up on something that means something to me just to be what others want from me. I will change what I believe to make sure I am doing it the right way.

Problem is, I feel like things that matter to me are being pushed aside.

I'm not saying I want to be the asshole he thinks I am, I am just saying that I want what I think to be important. I want to feel loved and cherished, but I am wondering if there is something broken in me that I can't feel it even if it is there.

hard

When I started this blog, the anonymity was a draw. I felt like if only one person knew who I was it would be easier to say what I needed to. Then I brought some of you into that circle, and now it is difficult to say what I want.

Why? I don't really "know" you. I haven't looked you in the face. But I feel like I do. Today is a day that I really need to vent and express my feelings and figure out where they are coming from, but it is hard when people see this side of you and the other side that you publicly put out there. But I have to get this out . . . it may not make any sense, but I feel like if I don't it could get ugly really fast.

Today I would like to be done with life. I would like to just lay down and die. It's hard. Being a mother is hard. Being a mother who is constantly having to argue with her kids is even harder.

My two littlest children have no sense of respect for adults. They are the kids who hold it together for the most part in school. They do pretty well in being appropriate when they "have" to be. For me, they are awful. They do not do anything the first time they are asked. It could be something as simple as, "Hey bud, pull your pants up." They just refuse to do what they are told. At just under ten years old this is no longer cute to me. This is disrespectful and rude.

My personality is one of "fixing". If there is an issue, I want to fix it. I will do what it takes to fix it NOW. I want it to stop and I will be firm until it is better. The husband is one of those people who try to get them to fix it by making jokes and trying to get them to do it in a round about way. I don't think that is teaching them to be respectful, I believe that is teaching them to find a "out". It is allowing them to be disrespectful as long as they are funny about it. (This may not make any sense to you at all, but I need to try to explain)

So what happens? I am an asshole in their eyes and he is the funny, joking daddy. They tell me they hate me often. I spend a few days a week driving them to school with my son kicking my seat telling me he hates me. Why? Because I had the nerve to tell him to hurry, or to buckle his seat belt in a harsh voice because I had already asked 5 times, or God only knows what else I was firm about. My daughter never wants to leave daycare at night and yells at me telling me she hates me or I am stupid. It is tiring. It is hard. It is heartbreaking.

I understand parents are not always liked by their kids. I get that. I am okay with that. But it seems the more he gives in, the more I am hated. I am tired of being the bad guy. This is compounded by the fact that he rarely sees their behavior in public. I run most of our errands after picking them up from daycare. I am the one seeing their horrendous behavior in the store. I am the one seeing how they react to me when I tell then to stop spinning in the aisles of a store hitting people who are walking by. I am the one constantly being argued with and screamed at. I see how they are developing a nasty attitude and rotten behaviors in public. I am the one embarrassed by their antics in public, he is not. He can tickle them and change their mood when I ask them to get their pajamas on for the 16th time. He is the fun daddy and I am the mean mommy.

It is getting to me. Today I lost it and began telling him how I felt. It was not pretty. I was frustrated and angry. I sad mean things to him. He said mean things back. He told me that they basically treat me like an ass because I am one. He said I don't allow them to be children. That is probably true, but I am trying to be firm and constant to change the monsters that we have allowed them to become. It just stung hearing it.

Couple all that with the anxiety I am always feeling and the depression that comes with being tired and feeling like a failure and I would just rather walk away and die instead of being the bad, mean mother. I have been working later, the oldest has been REALLY doing poorly and the husband has not been helping with the chores as much as I would like. His natural response when the oldest is doing poorly is to sleep, so he has been taking the time while I am a work and the oldest is at school to sleep which makes me more angry because I would LOVE to spend all day in bed.

It has all put me over the edge and when I get pushed over the edge, my natural instinct is wishing I would die. For the last few weeks I have been struggling with even wanting to leave work and go home, so this just makes it worse. I will say that I have resisted the urge to self harm this go 'round. I have not wanted to pull hair or scratch my arms. I have not done any head banging, I have just done lots of crying and shutting down. I suppose that is something.

The husband truly is a good man. he is loving and caring. he doesn't want the kids to be angry at him. He wants to be the fun daddy. His position is that if he gets them to do what I want them to it is all good. My position is that they are feeling like they got something over on me. I suppose we are both right in one way or another. I just wish he could back me up in front of them. I wish he could help me get them to be more respectful and obedient. They are not cute little ones anymore, they are kids who really should know better. There is a balance there, I just can't find it. Apparently I suck.

The one fault I think he has in all of this is that he doesn't respond like I think he should (or would want to) when I tell him where I am emotionally. If I had a spouse tell me that they wished they were dead, I would hope that my response would not be to tell them they have created this themselves. I would like it if he would sympathize with me. I suppose he does not think I would ever act on it (which I don't think I would) but I need to feel loved and appreciated. I want him to make me feel differently. I want him to tell me that would be a mistake. I don't want to be yelled at during this time, I want to be made to feel like I am essential to this family. I want him to make the feeling of wanting to die go away. Why is that so hard to understand?

Tomorrow will be better. It always is. Heck, perhaps I will feel differently in an hour. I will succeed at stuffing it down and dealing with it internally. Things will go right back to where they are and I will just be the bad person, I am used to that. But right now, it hurts and I just want the pain to go away. I want the thoughts of "If they hate me they would be better off without me" to be gone forever.

I don't really want to hear, "If they hate you, perhaps it's your fault."