The Tumultuous Time

 

The Tumultuous Time

Trigger warning: physical abuse, suicidal ideation.

Forgive me, but I have to fast-forward the story a bit. Just as I told you in my first post, there are people who don’t want this story told. I have once again been threatened and bullied into not telling the story for the sake of the kids. The reality is, they don’t want the story told for THEIR sake.

It is hard to know how to summarize what happened, but I am sure you can let your imagination fill in some blanks. As for me, I can tell you some facts that led up to this Big Bad Thing.

John and I had gotten divorced, and John did not take the parenting classes that are court-ordered to any divorced families with children. If he had, he would have learned that communication between the two houses is IMPERATIVE for the safety and welfare of the kids. It doesn’t take more than a google search to see what people have to say about helping kids through a divorce and living in two houses. He made no effort to understand- only to try and punish me for my decision to divorce him. He didn’t care what was best for the kids. He adopted a “what happens at my house is my business” way of operating. This was not only told to me (repeatedly), but it was also told to the children. “Mom doesn’t need to know what happens over here,” he said to them. I argued with him about this and told him I would always keep him informed of what was going on at my house. It didn’t matter. He kept stuff from me regularly- from small things like someone getting sick while they were there, to BIG things.

Adam had turned into a full-blown, hell-on-wheels teenager. Every day he was breaking all kinds of rules. I regularly told John about the struggles we had, and John regularly rolled his eyes at me. However, John had some of the same struggles at his house and just didn’t share them. One day, after an argument with Adam had simmered down and we were conversing normally, I said, “I’m sorry I get so angry with you. I don’t want to do that.” He replied, “Well you are nothing compared to dad.” I said, “What?” He said, “You have no idea how mad dad gets. Pushing me down to the floor, shoving me against the wall, pulling a fist.” I was stunned. I knew how frustrating Adam could be, but I have NEVER resorted to any kind of physical engagement with him. I told him that the very next time that happened, he needed to let me know instantly.

This was unnecessary, because the next time it happened, I had just pulled into John’s driveway to pick up the kids. Adam came running out, bawling, and flew into my arms. It was very unusual, both for his age and for him as a person. He said through sobs, “Mom, he did it again! He pushed me down and hurt me.” I looked at John, who rolled his eyes and said it wasn’t exactly what happened. I said, “Let’s go inside and talk,” and John said, “You aren’t going to come into MY house and tell me how to parent.” I said, “If one of the kids ever runs out of my house sobbing, you are WELCOME to come into my house and talk about it.” John told me Adam was refusing to do his homework and wouldn’t get off the video game he was playing. They argued, and then John did in fact push Adam to the ground. John made light of it, but Adam was visibly upset. I said, “I know Adam is frustrating- that is what I tell you every day- but we cannot deal with our kids with physical violence.” I went on to tell him the techniques I used to assist when Adam was disobedient. He didn’t like hearing that, but he agreed (*This was not the last time this would happen. The next time included a prolonged physical fight between the two of them. I should have called DFS then and there, but I was still trying to be congenial with John and work through things. John still has never figured out how to be a mature adult/parent with the kids).

In this time period, I had begun to look at Residential treatment facilities for Adam- there are many “troubled teen” facilities that will help with kids who have mental/emotional struggles. Some of them have state-of-the-art therapy and some are geared specifically for children who’ve been adopted. Therapy wasn’t helping, and Adam was making our home an awful place to be. I broached the subject with John. His reply was, “Absolutely not. I will never agree to that.” I told him frankly, “I don’t know what else to do to help him. I am out of ideas.” He just said we needed to continue with therapy and make sure he is getting disciplined.

One night, I got a text from one of Adam’s closest friends. He said, “You need to go get Adam and find his phone. He is threatening suicide in the group chat.”  Adam was sitting on the couch, just feet from where I was. I asked for his phone and read the messages. I took him in my room and asked if he truly felt like he might kill himself. He confirmed he did, and that he even had a plan that involved jumping out his bedroom window. I called John and told him I was taking Adam to the hospital. He was angry at me. “You just want them to put him in the psych ward. You just want to get rid of him,” he accused me. I let him talk to Adam.  John said, “Adam, you aren’t REALLY going to kill yourself, right? You’re just saying that to upset your mom.” Adam said, “Dad, I’m having a really hard time.” John said, “I know, but you’re not going to kill yourself, right?” Adam said, “I don’t know. I guess not.” Obviously, John was not handling this well. I got back on the phone with him, and he said, “I won’t agree to you taking him to the hospital. I guess if you feel like you need to, I will meet you there and tell them I don’t agree with him being admitted.” I was so tired of arguing with him, but I capitulated. I agreed to put Adam on close watch until we could get to his therapist. I also screwed all the upstairs windows shut.

If it isn’t obvious by now, John and I have vastly different approaches to parenting. I could sum his up by, “If we avoid it, ignore it, or deny it, it will go away.” Mine, admittedly, is, “If I fight hard enough, any problem is solvable.”

During this tumultuous period, Adam continued to push the boundaries of appropriate s*xual behavior, despite many therapies, including being enrolled in a 6-month, once-a-week group therapy program designed specifically for adolescents struggling to figure out appropriate behaviors. Things were tense. I felt that Adam was a danger and a detrimental influence on the other kids. John continued to respond to my concerns by relaxing rules, restriction, and supervision at his house. He had developed the idea of playing “good cop” to my “bad cop,” and blamed the bad behavior on me being too strict.

This is where the story gets awful. This is the dividing line for my life with “before” and “after.” I firmly believe that telling our story will help other people. A lot of it from here on out is simply unbelievable. This is your official trigger warning. And this is where I re-affirm that I will 100% tell the truth.

With one caveat.

I am switching to symbolism/allegory to protect the innocent.

I want you to know the facts but can’t share the details without possibly hurting those who do not deserve any further hurt. You can draw some of your own conclusions, but also don’t go too far in your assumptions.

Because from here on out, in my opinion, there is one person who should be held responsible. And it isn't Adam.