Love your children - hold them close for as long as you can.
For reasons known to no one, Alex started running away about three weeks ago. There were no issues at home. There were no changes. It was a happy life.
Alex ran away four times in one week. He got lost one night and was attacked by strangers. People gave him money even knowing he was running away. When the police brought him back, he came with a rooster (we live in a city!). When he ran again after returning the rooster, the police asked me to ask the doctors for help, so crying I asked.
Thus began our hell that lasted 337 hours and 10 minutes or just over 15 days living in the Emergency Room of our Children's Hospital. I have watched Alex tantrum like he never has before. I have seen him given anti-psychotic medications at levels grown men are given - to no effect.
My custody of Alex has been repeatedly threatened far reasons not made clear to me.
Yesterday, at 8:15 pm Alex was transferred to an inpatient facility that had discharged him unstable last year. My concern about him being sent back there for help was one of the reasons my custody of him was repeatedly threatened.
At 5:12 pm today, 21 hours after that transfer, the inpatient facility called me to tell me they were ready to discharge him. They suggested that I give up my son to the state. They said there was nothing they could do to help.
That facility also failed to note his current medications and began giving him a drug that has proven ineffective for him and then told me that his current medication schedule is too "difficult for them to maintain."
Alex has asked them if he can live in their basement. My poor sweetie. He was locked in a cellar in the ground while still in Russia which was loaded with spiders. He still has serious issues surrounding this. The odds that he could be in a basement for more than a moment is low. He will not even go into the basement of my Mom's former house. I do not know why he would ask for that, and the doctors and staff do not even care to ask why.
I often wonder what the medical people think and feel as they fail this child. Alex is lost and looking for a way out of the room of mirrors. Alex also has a lot of rage for the two Moms before that failed him. Every time he hits, kicks or swears at me, I know he is still raging at those who left him. Silly boy, like I would let him live in a basement. :)
I have been home just over 24 hours now, after living on the floor of the pediatric ER and/or in the psychiatric isolation room on the adult side for over 15 days. My house is normal life filled with family, friends, cats and a couple of dogs. My daughter and I had a "girls day out" with some retail therapy which was awesome. Daria is very opinionated about my preference for black (too gloomy!!!) and the fact that sparkles makes me "high fashion." She is a joy every day.
I will get up tomorrow and do what needs to be done for my children.
People keep telling me to send Alex to the "farm" option. That is permanent warehousing for children away from their families. I simply cannot consider that option yet.
I remember Alex had restraint marks on him when I picked him up from the orphanage. I took pictures and asked for explanations. Of course there were none. I remember Alex and I spending many hours of trauma therapy addressing him being strapped to a bed in Russia and being given drugs through needles. I just spent 15 days watching American doctors doing the same thing to Alex. And attacking me when I tried to get them to stop.
Sometimes kids just struggle. Parents who wade into the deep with their children are often attacked too and victimized by the people who cannot listen to the screams of a child in crisis.
Some people who like labels and now call Alex RAD as well as PTSD. Alex began having an attachment disorder about six weeks after he was brutally bullied in the public school system. A severe attachment disorder can begin after a traumatic event such as what he experienced last year.
Alex and I had beat the odds. He deeply loves me. During all this time, he keeps coming over to kiss me and comfort me. He probably loves me even more than I love him - if that is possible! Because of that, in light of last year, he will pound on me as hard as he can to see if I will walk away.
What I have is a little boy whom I love so much. If I thought it was in his best interest, I would walk. But I do not. It will never be the best option for Alex. Everyone needs to know that their Mother will be there for them no matter what. My Mom would never leave my side. No matter what. My Mom does that for me so how could I do any less? I cannot. I simply love him too much. I will never be able to let go. Alex needs to know the love of a mother that I know. My parents would expect no less from me.
I had the most amazing parents. Love of their children was the most important thing for them. That is what I remember best about being a child in my family. I pass that value onto my children every day by me living it for them.
For parents that want to read more about RAD with PTSD I offer this humble link.
I also offer this poem by a Mom of a child in need of a warrior.
Warrior Moms
by Jean MacLeod
I didn't sign up to be a Warrior Mom.It was awarded to me by default:
I showed up to mother a baby.
I didn't sign up to be a Warrior Mom.
It was awarded to me by default:
I showed up to mother a baby.
In the early days of our adoption,
I clanked around in oversize Armor that hung heavy and slow.
It took me awhile to realize that it had been designed for me to grow into...
I'd been outfitted as a Warrior Mom
but didn't understand what I was fighting.
It was with fear and steel
that I dealt with awful knowledge:
I was fighting for the love and affection
of a baby who no longer trusted.
Making a child's world right
is all-consuming and never-ending.
I figured out why I wore Armor: it held me up at the end of the day.
So many invisible dragons to slay!
I battled for my baby
and I battled to be her mother.
I took rejection-- arrows glancing off metal-- and came back for more.
I demanded a place in the life of my daughter
and I learned to share her with her past.
I became a Warrior Mom
and ditched the Armor, but kept the shield.
Not for me, but to protect the child that became mine
through sweat and tears and years of no sleep!
Who knew this Mom could tilt at windmills
angry feelings and powerful ghosts?
I don't cook, can't sew, won't craft
but I learned I could fight
and I don't give up.
Sometimes it takes a Warrior Mom
to claim a child who has gone past love.
Untapped, under-appreciated,
a Mother's Will is Mighty.
It can make love spring from metal
And change Armor to open arms.
Love your children - hold them close for as long as you can.
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