Thursday, June 9, 2011

Hoping To Lose The Key

"Don't  *&#@ it up."

Those were the last words I spoke to Sean before we left the house yesterday for the last day at his day program.

Nice mom, huh?

Boy was I mad....

Fuming.

Luckily, he dropped the subject and I had the car ride to the junior high to get a grip on where he was in his head.

What started it?

Sean brought up the restraining incidents... again.

O..M..G.. how many times is he going to bring up something that happened years ago?  At his day program it occurred maybe two... maybe three times.  And it could have been as long as three years ago.

Get over it...

I know.  I know.  I can't be that callous.  But yesterday morning I was livid not because he was bringing up the subject but what he said afterwards.  I understand that he was traumatized.  I get it.  And hey, if reliving it somehow heals the wound then by all means, talk it out.

But Sean added a new element to the conversation.  He brought up revenge.

He's always been about being fair but he skews it to give him a free pass to wrong someone who has wronged him.

Not a good thing....

So yesterday when he brought up the restraining he said that he always promised himself that one day he would get back at them and beat the crap out of them.

He would have the final say.

I could not contain myself.  Don't pull this on the last day you'll be there.  Don't do something so stupid.

Keep your head down and don't even think about.

In other words, don't *&#@ it up.

We walked out of the house and, normal as can be, chit-chatted in the car.   Sean seemed to have snapped out of his revenge-mode faster than I could back out of the driveway.

Unbelievable...

How could he??  Is he really??  I hope not....

I spent the rest of the day willing him to get through the day without landing in trouble and blowing everything that he had worked for... everything that we had worked for.  Just get through.  Just get through.

Relief is not the word I had when the door burst open and Sean announced his arrival and dropped his backpack.

He had made it.

He closed the door and shut out five years in a therapeutic day school, bus rides, levels, point sheets... and hopefully, painful memories of being restrained.

Hopefully....

But will they remain locked away?

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