The way it feels when your 9 year old child throws Legos at you and screams that you are a moron. When he hits you while you are holding his baby sister. How it feels when his behavior escalates the closer we get to a school day, and how bad it is when he walks in the door.
Because at school, he behaves. At school, he is calm, quiet and engaged. Because around the rest of the world he hides it. Because, he doesn't believe people will accept him just as he is or because he thinks he is damaged. People, even the ones who get it, don't see it.
Sometimes I don't see it. But those moments are spent waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Since returning to school Sam has had a major behavior every single day. Since returning to school we have had to restrain him to keep him safe on 4 separate occasions. for the first time in 3 years he is hitting me again. I have bruises from my nine year old son.
My heart is breaking.
Until you walk in these shoes you cannot possibly understand what it's like to watch your son get in the car, still in his pajamas, to go to the crisis center.
I am broken, frightened, angry, and so very tired.
The kind of tired that sits in your bones and wraps around you like an old grey sweater. The kind of tired that is just like your shadow... everywhere you go.
