Monday, December 15, 2008


This is from Friday the 12th. I had trouble getting into my blog to post.

Well, what can one say. Yesterday was arguably the worst and toughest day I have ever had. Yesterday was the day I had to call the police on my own child. Yesterday was the day I saw my child in handcuffs. Yesterday was the day when he threatened every staff member in the ER with death. Yesterday was the day that I I saw my baby tied down to a gurney, and given sedatives, because he was so agitated that 4 grown men had to hold him down, and give him the sedatives. Yesterday was the day that I agreed to have my 9 year old admitted to the psychiatric Children's Hospital.

He might not be home for Christmas. He might not even be home for New Years Eve, or my mother's birthday, or even his own. My heart is broken, and my spirit as well. This is a day I dreaded happening. I knew that at some point it would happen, but no one ever wants to have to hospitalize their child, their baby.

In the past 2weeks Spenser has become increasingly more violent with me, culminating in him attacking me on Wednesday, and then threatening to “cut her head off” when he got home from school, because I had called them to let them know what was going on with him at home. On Wednesday he attacked me, hitting me, kicking me, punching, smacking, and biting me. The bite mark, is as large as a sand dollar, and had it not been for my long sleeve shirt, he would have broken the skin. My whole entire arm is one long series of bruises.

Of course, this was the time I defended myself, and for that I feel awful. Absolutely awful.

And then yesterday happened, and I feel even worse.

I am heart broken. I feel like I am a shitty parent because I could not prevent this happening. But what is most unsettling to me is the feeling of relief I have at the same time. I am relieved that others have seen him in his rage, and violence. And I am relieved that they saw and felt how strong he gets when he is that horribly agitated.

I am hoping that this will be a good thing in the end for him. that he will get the help he needs. That he will learn the coping skills needed to function in society.

I am terrified that some how the insurance company will refuse to pay. If that happens, I m not sure what will happen—I will sell what ever needs sold to keep him in treatment.

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