My son is a Sociopath

It’s tough to say this out loud. It hurts when I hear it from countless professionals. And It’s difficult to talk about to those I love. But, my son is a sociopath and I need to talk to someone.
From a very young age I knew something was not “right” I was told Autism, Asperger’s. We believed it, we thought it could be treated and then we moved on.
By Kindergarten’s first year, trouble started brewing. He was violent and aggressive with students and teachers. He first threatened to kill himself and another child at age six. I thought it was a phase, I remember the administration telling me what had happened and what he had said. I was concerned, I didn’t know what to do.
I moved him to a different school that year. He had convinced me that they were just picking on him, exaggerating what had really happened. I believed him, after all he was young and seemed so sweet. We did this dance of the moving schools, switching the teachers and counselors for the next two years.
School had gotten bad. He was stealing from his teachers purse out of spite, he had strangled, thier words, not mine, A child on the playground for not getting off a swing when he said so.
I finally found a behavior health school that specialized in Autism that was willing to work with him and we sent him over. He was eight at the time. The classroom where filled with behavior couches, therapist, and safe rooms. He stayed at this school for another four years. His IEP goal was to keep his hands to himself and to not threaten anyone’s life for a whole year before pubic school would look at mainstreaming him. Life seems to get better, he seems to conform. He started following perceived rules. Teachers were happy, he was eventually sent back to public school in seventh grade.
As soon as he was back in school things started to “Happen” again. People got hurt, things went missing, teachers were constantly calling and asking why he refused to listen. No one knew what was going on. It was almost like he enjoyed it. That was right around the same time I got married and had another baby.
Everything changed as soon as I brought another person into my life. Immediately my son started telling teachers, therapist that my husband was starving him, beating him. We had quite a few phone calls, house visits, CPS cases. Every time we met with a new professional. I told them everything that was happening. I asked for help, I begged for resources. I was given a look of confusion each time and they all told me there wasn’t much they could do. I was told it was bad behavior, maybe hormones of the teen years with the Autism that caused it. I was told he would grow out of it. I almost believed them.
It’s now been another five years. My son no longer lives in our home. The last five years he has spent terrorizing his little brother and those around me. He became obsessed with watching car death you-tube crashes and other violent things online. Life became completely unmanageable.
I spent two years with professionals coming in and out of our house. We had a behavior coach and mentor take him to be sociable with other teens. We had him volunteer at shelters. We did one on one in house family therapy and empathy engaging activities. Nothing seemed to help. He spent his time terrorizing our home and taking control over those closest to him. He tied up his little brother and gagged him, left him under our stairs. He attacked me in the back with a hammer and stripped me naked and threw me outside the house on one occasion. I finally let the state take him to a specialized mental health facility last year.
It’s been tough. Nothing has gotten better, just worse. He hurts the other children with him. Mostly psychological, threats to their loved ones. Promises to hurt if they don’t comply, listen and carry out his tasks. He’s been moved three times over the last year. It seems there is no hope.
I’m not sure why my GOD would make a child like this, I’m often wondering why he would give him to me. I pray, I have hope, and I give up every single day all at the same time.

Messy Jessy

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My Dear Cruz,

Today you turned five. And I woke up to the repeating realization that these years are going by too quickly. Motherhood is the cruelest, most beautiful, and most bittersweet piece of life that I have ever been able to experience. You arrived and motherhood consumed me. Motherhood to two little men showed me what I could do and who I could be.birthday

I have carried you within me, I have held your hand as you learned to walk, wiped your tears as you fell down, I have encouraged you, I have cheered for you, I have felt your fears, I have embraced you when you have needed me and I have watched you all along the way. And every year you get older I realize that, while my job will never end as your mother, you will one day not ask for my hand to steady you, you will wipe your own tears when you fall, you will push yourself and you will conquer your fears. Happy fifth Birthday my sweet Cruz, you’re a big boy now!

Simple and Peaceful

Two words I rarely write. That’s because it not how life has ever been for me.  But these last few days’ I’ve looked around and started to notice that things feel normal again.  There is an ebb and flow in the new house.  I mentioned the other day that it’s doesn’t feel real.  It’s like I’m on some sort of extended vacation with the hubs and children.

I had a girlfriend call the other day to see how things were going in the new house.  “Great, really great!” was my response.  She seemed surprised.  She asked how me and the hubs were doing, “Wonderful.” I replied.  I could hear it in her voice she was waiting for me to give her some long-winded story about my traumatic week or some big fight that we have had.  But the truth of the matter is our life is no longer like that.

I never thought I would write these words, but we are starting to move forward and rarely look back.  I have forgiven and even started to forget.  I put up my “No Drama Here” sign and remind people when they start to come on my lawn.

Therapy for us, for him has been a life saver.  When we first started we had to see separate people and convene once a month in a group session.  I wanted to kill him!  I was angry, sad and very bitter. I thought there was no hope for us.  He was a spoiled selfish brat that thought I was over doing it and just wanted me to move on.

With time, years, we have started to work as a team again.  I didn’t realize how distant we had become from each other in the last few years.  We were married but living separate lives under the same roof. I no longer see any one, but he does.  I think it helps him learn how to deal with emotions, life, marriage, a wife….all things he was never taught growing up, but that’s a whole other story…

The fact of the matter is in the last two years he has shown me how much we mean to him. I have watched him endure and come through all the bullshit that came along with an affair, let me tell you, there is a lot of it.  Way more than anyone would have ever expected. I have seen him fight for us and stick up for me when I least expected it. I have seen how hard he has worked to fix things and build a new relationship with me.  I never thought we would be in a place where I feel like I have 100% of his support but that’s how life is starting to feel and it’s really quite peaceful.

Short Rant.

I spent the other night out with girlfriends. Women that were in my wedding..bridesmaids. This is always a tough situation for me.  I know they dislike the hubby, but most say really supportive things like. “You are who we love and support and if said Hubby is part of that, I still love you, because YOU are my friend and I will support you in any decision you think is right.”

I do believe this was a well thought out and talked about response between my lady friends for quite some time before they came to me.

Nerveless, the other night at dinner.  A dinner I didn’t really want to go to. I sat there and looked around, listened to the conversations and felt so out of touch about where their life’s are and where I’m at.  It felt like I don’t quite belong.

We have all known each other for 10 to 12 years.  We’ve been through a  lot of bullshit, divorces, becoming  single moms and even a few new marriages.

But the other night.  At the end of dinner. Six of us sitting around a dimly lit table after enjoying a long super.  A girlfriend of mine grabs my hand.  She holds it tightly and looks me straight in the eyes and says. “I know they say they will only do it once, but it’s a lie. It will happen again.  I want you to be ready and know that, I’ll, we’ll be here for you when the time comes.”

I almost threw up on her, literally.  Gladly, we are a large group of mixed personalities.  I excused myself from dinner and headed home. Immediately, I got a text from a GF. “What the fuck? Seriously, I’m calling you on the drive home, who the fuck says that stuff?!”

I told her I don’t really feel like I belong to the group anymore.  A few still seem to mesh with me, including my GF that called me on the way home.  What she said really stuck with me.  She asked. “Would you trade lives with her? Would you rather be her?’  The answer was a hands down no.  I  know my life isn’t perfect but like she said,  “If you wouldn’t trade places with her, don’t let her comments get you down.”

She right. It’s hard to keep your head up some days, by I’m working on it.  I’m just glad I’m not a crazy bitch, the type that would throw a glass of water across the table on someone, cause that’s what I was thinking as I got up, head spinning and walked out.

Two steps forward and one big step back.

That’s how things have been for me lately.  When will I ever stop being angry?  I thought with time things heal and go away.  I’m not crying every day and I’m not mad every day but I feel like I’ve turned into a needy wife.  I’m desperate for attention and to feel loved.  I have these intense emotional outbursts still.  I have therapy tomorrow night again and I’m hoping it helps.  When will I feel like I’m starting to move forward??

Couple-Holding-Hands-Photographic-P

Down two diamonds and up a dress…

ring

Sunday was a great day, well sort of.  I started the morning with a long run.  Then I decided to get my monsters out of the house before they drove me crazy, husband included.

We went over to the park and had a picnic, played, ran around outside and even spent some time at the batting cages. I had declared it a success.

Then I had this crazy Idea that I would spend the rest of the day with myself, shopping.  I started out at Charming Charley at the local outdoor mall. Apparently its some sort of color coded girl store.  So out I a went.  When I first walked in I found the perfect dress and cute earrings within minuets. Seriously, I was worried, I don’t do super girly and was scared to step into such a store.  It was painless and fast.

Next I went off to “My” diamond store to have a few rings cleaned.  I waited and waited for almost 45 minutes to have someone help me.  Probably because in sweats with my hair back I look close to 19, no joking. I got passed over three times before I had to lean over the glass and politely yell “Hey, I haven’t been helped yet!”

A young lady finally came over and checked and cleaned my rings.  While cleaning them she scrubbed so hard two diamonds fell out.  GREAT! Just what I needed.  She spent the next five minuets looking for the diamonds in the cleaner and the next fifteen minutes trying to look me up in the system.  She couldn’t find me by my married name, maiden name or my hubby’s.  I finally got so frustrated that I went to grab my phone just to call him and ask him what the damn name the rings where under.  I shoved my hand in my purse and reached around, nothing.  I looked down, even did the pull your purse inside out thing. No phone! I started to feel slightly irritated.  How could this possible be any harder. Stupid me, I must have left the phone in the car, great.  No wonder hubby hasn’t called yet to see where I was.

At last, I was found in the system, rings where both under warranty and set up and sent out.

Exhausted, I walked back to the car.  As I finally sunk into my car seat, down two rings and up a dress I reached for my phone. No phone.  I got out, looked under the seat, emptied the whole damn purse out on the backseat, no phone!

GREAT! Just great!

I then proceed to head back to the two places I went to that day.  First the girly dress shop, no phone. Then over to the diamond store, the last place I wanted to be, no phone! The girl did let me know she finally found the diamonds, great, wonderful, thanks!

Panic, panic set in.  I was spinning. Now, I’ve lost two rings today and a phone!  I was having this amazing day and now it had all gone to hell. I went back to the car and started to cry. Right now I hated life.  As, I wiped my eyes and looked outside, in the bush by the car, my fucking phone!  Really? Really?

What a day! Bottom line.. crazy good day turned into stress filled manic crazy lady day. I’m not sure where I’m going or how I’m getting there and I’m sure I looked and behaved like a certifiable loon today, but I’m sober. Sober, certifiably crazy, but sober.

Sober first.

Mexico

I spent this past weekend on vacation in Mexico. I was invited down to good old Mexico with my husband and his family to celebrate a birthday among other things.  See, here is the problem with that.  EVERY time we go down to Mexico everyone gets shit face wasted and parties into the wee hours of the night.

I remember my first visit with my now husband.  It was spring break 2009.  I was nervous to meet new people, especially people who did not speak the same language as me.  Upon arriving I found that they did indeed speak my langue “Drink”.  We spent the whole weekend drinking and laughing, I even realized that most of them drank way more than me, so I didn’t feel so guarded about my drinking.  I thought I was in heaven and every trip after was the same.  Mexico was amazing…

Fast forward six years and the ride down there was nothing but pure anxiety.  My mind kept saying “Let’s have a Tecate”   I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t drinking. I had to remind myself that I wanted to stay in this sober club that I hear such good things about.  I had to remind myself that one beer would never just be enough and I having one beer did not exist. I was nervous to be surrounded by drinkers and have no place to escape.

Surprisingly enough, I did not need to escape so much.  I took the advice of a very knowledgeable sober pen pall and brought with me a replacement drink, Grapefruit sparkling water. My husband and I had talked before arriving and had agreed that I would not stay up all night and go to bed with the kids at a “safe place” a house where the party was not, every night.  We were a team.  He checked in on me many times and spent most of the day, when people were drinking, out together with the family running around town.  It was nice.

As I drove home I mentioned that this was the first time I had left Mexico to come home and not felt like complete shit and full of anxiety.  In all reality, the trip was quite pleasurable. It was indeed my first sober vacation.  I never in a million years thought that it was at all possible for me to go down to Mexico without having a drink.  I even thought that on the damn way down. It’s funny how your mind will try to trick you, it’s interesting how when you tune out the thoughts, they slowly start to fade away.  Bottom line, I felt like a rock star on Monday! Sober, sun, beach and fun.