Thursday, September 22, 2011

RAD still lives here...

After a summer of fun, back-to-back birthday celebrations, down-time with family, etc., there is ALWAYS fall out. Actually "fall-out" doesn't begin to describe what our last three weeks have been like. While both older kids did better before and during the celebrations, their feelings of jealousy and need to prove to themselves that they don't "deserve" to have this much fun made for some very rocky times.

Tortuga has packed his backpack and planned to run away, has verbally assaulted his younger brother when he thinks we aren't listening, has refused to do his schoolwork correctly, has been rude, disrespectful, testing boundaries, BUT he has not raged, threatened to kill us, drawn pictures of mutilated bodies. He hasn't even had a meltdown.  Progress I think.

It has been almost 4 years since we adopted him and in that time he has made progress. Lots of it. It has been hard for him, for us, and for the rest of the kids. When I let myself think about it too much I feel guilty that our other children have had to live with so much of what they have had to live with in our own home. Yet, I also think about where my son has been and how hard all this has been for/on him. Each time I think I cannot do "this" any longer I think about what he has had to do and how much longer he has had to do it. Then everything comes back into perspective. Yes, it's not fair-to any of us-to have to put up with all that we put up with but we are family. We are on this journey together and family does what family needs to do to make it work.

I try to remember that my son is hurt and hurting. He carries the impact of the harm that was done to him in utero and in those early formative years. He has the cognitive and learning scars of this harm and he carries the emotional and developmental scars as well. But mostly he carries the hurt. The incredible hurt and pain of losing his birth mom who despite his intellectual understanding of what happened he still loves with all his might in the way that a five year old loves their mother and wishes for their mother and idolizes their mother. It's visceral and primal and so very real despite everything he knows and understands about why he cannot (and often does not want to) live with her. I cannot even imagine what it must feel like to walk around with that hurt every single day.

I try to remember that my son is scared. He has learned the the world is a scary place full of scary things real and imagined. Years of watching late night horror flicks (think Chucky, Freddie and Michael My*ers), being left alone for days with only these movies for company, being locked out of his home, wandering out into busy city streets in the middle of the night, have all taught him that the world in not safe. He hasn't had years to learn to trust and believe that someone will be there to protect him from this. He has learned to trust only his own ability to keep himself safe (and he doesn't feel all that confident about this either.) Add to it the constant moves to new homes, new people, new schools, new caregivers, social workers, and foster parents, he learned to always be afraid. No wonder he is hyper-vigilant, constantly on edge, lashing out first, always tense, always ready to fight. Danger is possibly at every turn and despite the fact that I think he should know by now that we are keeping him safe and aren't going to let harm come his way he doesn't yet KNOW that for sure. His guard isn't completely down yet and who knows how long it will be before he can truly believe we are going to keep him safe. He may never do so but it doesn't mean we can stop trying.

I try to remember that my son is angry and he has good reason to be angry. Sure his anger is misdirected but who else is he supposed to be angry at? I am here and right in front of him every day. It's much easier to be angry at me than at all the other not-so-tangible people and reasons that he has a right to be angry about. The thing is he probably doesn't even really know what is angry about. Sometimes I see that his anger is at himself --for being "bad, " for trusting, for caring, for trying, for not trying, for making mistakes, for doing things wrong, for doing them "right" and it not making a difference, for loving and not being loved in return, for caring, for destroying things, for wanting to destroy things, etc. He has so many reasons to be angry and he has seen first hand that when someone is angry they hurt and destroy so that is what he does. He directs this anger at us, our family, his things, but mostly at himself. My job is, and has been, to help him channel his anger. To honor his right to be angry but to teach him how to not let his anger destroy him or those he cares about.

Each of my children have a "treasure" box in which they keep special tokens and reminders of things that are important and irreplaceable. For Tortuga one of the things in his treasure box is a plastic ziplock bag with all the pieces of the cards we gave him and friends and family gave him when he first came to our family. They used to hang on his bulletin board but in a rage one day 3 years ago he tore them to little bits. I picked them up and saved them in a bag with a note reminding him of what they were and how they got damaged. For a long time he wanted to throw it away so I kept it. Then he wanted to tape them back together but I wouldn't let him. Recently we put them back in his treasure box and he said he thought he understood why I wouldn't let him tape them back together. He said "because it is there to remind me of what I did and what I never want to do again." When I asked him what he meant he said that he thought that whatever he did never mattered. When he sees that bag he remembers that it matters to us and to him because he regrets it. He says it reminds him that he never wants to destroy something that irreplaceable ever again.

3 comments:

GB's Mom said...

Great post! Good time for me to regain perspective!

BT said...

Oh Dia, this just brings tears to my eyes. So much of it echoes the hurt, fear, and anger that our P carries around with him. My heart feels so heavy when I think about what it must feel like inside them.

It is so wonderful that Tortuga is making such good progress. Slow and steady wins the race, even when it unfolds in fits and bursts and doubling backs!

Please let Tortuga know that there is a boy just about the same age as him living in Winnipeg Canada who understands his hurts and is working just as hard to heal and grow into strong family skills and trust. He is not alone.

Dia por Dia said...

GB's mom--thank you. I needed to do it to gain perspective too. I feel like I am in a slump with him right now and it is so hard to dive back in for more each day.

BT-Thank you too. I know that feeling and I am going to tell Tortuga since he often feels like he is the only one. I trust that slow and steady will win out if ti doesn't kill me first :-) So nice to hear from you. I miss your blogging, hint, hint.

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