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


Stay strong

These are words that I find myself saying everyday.  A constant reminder that “I am strong and can do this.”

Sobriety was never anything I thought would be easy and in the beginning. I really thought it would be down right impossible.  But through the last few months I have realized my inner strength and my ability to get through hard times with out having to use or get loaded.

What I have learned over the last 130 days is that I can feel bad, without being or doing bad.  I always thought they were the same thing. Emotions often dictated my attitude and my behavior.  I have learned over the  time that I can have ” feelings”  with out having to completely loose myself in them.  Yes, the ever so dramatic..FML, I can’t believe this is happening to me attitude is starting to dissolve away.

Over the last four months I have actually dealt with an array of things I never thought I would be able to get through sober. Things that were a sure sign I would need a drink at night have been bestowed upon  me and I have manger to stay sober.

-My Grandmother died on my 30 day mark and I didn’t drink.

-My son broke his jaw at school three days later.

-My grandfather passed away 6 weeks after my grandmother.

-My husband lost his job.

The biggest thing that I  have changed in sobriety is my attitude.  I am no longer looking for reasons to drink.  Situations do not dictate my feelings. I am, with the grace of God, in control of myself for the first time in a long time.  I wake up every morning and say a little prayer to get through the day.  At night before bed I hit my knees and thank God for the gift of sobriety. But most importantly, I take life one day at a time.





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.

Big things..

Coming this way.  I got offered the job today and I’m just waiting on my pending background check.  This  always makes me nervous! I wasn’t the most responsible twenty something.

It’s funny how everyone says, “Just let go and give to god.” I finally started doing that this year and amazing things keep happening.  Being sober is one of them.  I’m at a place in my life wear every day is not a struggle and I no longer hate life.  For such a long time each day was pure misery and I would just wake up every morning and do it all over again.  It’s finally starting to feel like I can move past all the “shit”  in my life and be brave.

Must write, must write….

So much has happened in the last week.

We bought and moved into a new house. On closing day, I lost a very close family friend. The day of move I was stalked online relentlessly by the mistress or the OW, as we say online. Needless to say, I spent some time in therapy with the hubs. I managed to avoid a total meltdown while moving a house of four this weekend… myself.

Lots of self discovery and new coping skills.  A few good stories too.

When I have time I will get online and actually write about it.  Oh and did I mention I’m interviewing for a new position at a big company tomorrow? Send lots of prayers and happy thoughts my way. I need them this week

Lots of love.  xoxo MessyJessy

No more perfection.

It’s been another day. Another day that perfection wasn’t even in sight. Come to think of it, the definition of perfection escapes my vocabulary because it’s not a state that my life allows for. Another day that I stumbled through trying to keep the pieces gathered together without them falling at my feet. They never seem to be a perfect fit, do they?

Monday came and went. It didn’t stay long enough to say hello and it certainly didn’t have room for deep relaxing breaths. It’s Spring Break. Vacation? What a funny notion. Work hours started early, track practice was spent answering emails and dinner came in the form of a take out bag. And has someone switched the laundry from the washer to the dryer yet? I forget to get Dillon socks to match his track outfit, will anyone care? And my eyebrows stared back at me in the mirror this morning. I need to remember to tweeze those things!

Tuesday I was barely able to roll myself out of bed even after the alarm on my iPhone went off at every 15 minute increment beginning at 5:00 AM. It seems that 2:00 AM is a perfect time for a little one to go to bed when they have no preschool in the morning. And that breakfast that I wanted to make for my kids to relish in the relaxation of Spring Break? It came in the form of donuts brought home after I left work at 5:00 PM the day before, because we all know the kids are not going to want to get up early when they have no school. It was another day that I went without a shower, thank goodness for dry shampoo. A day without a workout and I am sure I went to bed with another pound gained. My husband is still out-of-town and I have two doctors appointments for the kids this week, a payroll deadline at work, and a house that we are closing on in three weeks. Still not sure how that is going to work. And seriously… that load in the washer.

Wednesday I yelled at the kids because the house was a mess. And through the toys lying around, I saw my shoes… and stack of paperwork… and my dish from breakfast on the counter… and my blanket on the couch from movie night the evening before. I hid away in my room to save myself the humility of having to apologize. Lunch was skipped that day because I didn’t have time the night before to go out and get more bread. I think the kids eat peanut butter and bananas on bagel, because that’s all I had in the house. Grocery shopping never happened tonight due to a meltdown because someone missed his nap and we biked outside instead of finishing the to-do list because the weather was overcast and we take what we can get here in the desert this time of year. And through the giggles and laughing, I made sure to say thank you for the house cleaning that happened earlier. And it was a night where I was barely able to get myself to bed let alone remember to wash my face or even say a prayer.

Thursday was Thursday. I screamed a profanity from my closet after stepping on a Lego building that was left there from two weeks ago. Left there by a little one who was waiting for me to finish my makeup so we could go to the park. There is something questionable on  the chair in the kitchen that needs to be cleaned up, but instead I keep passing by it hoping that the other adult that lives with me will notice it. Exhaustion is no joke. I need to remember to send off that email before they email me first and think that I forgot about it. Someone is yelling from downstairs that another someone hit them. I threw on my favorite leggings because my hair is still unwashed and makeup was not an option today, black leggings distract. The kids are with Grandma tonight. I ended up falling asleep on the couch at 9:00 after ‘totally being up for a movie night’.

Friday. My to-do list is a mile long just like every other day, but it’s the last day of Spring Break. This means the week and the weekend are blurring together and I will find myself sneaking away to play as much as I possibly can. The dishes are piled high in the sink and no one has volunteered to do them.  I just bought groceries this week, but I have a feeling at 5:00 PM I will be on the phone ordering an extra-large cheese pizza from our favorite pizza place. Who baked the cookies that I am not supposed to have? Oh well, diet starts on Monday, right?

And then there is tomorrow. A place in time that holds every possibility, every ounce of energy and every bit of soft-spoken love for each and every person around me. I don’t want to live for tomorrow, but at this time in my life… in this season of my life… I thank God if there is a tomorrow. Tomorrow is a chance for me to get it right. At least one thing, please. To speak a little nicer, to play a little harder, and maybe even get a shower. To forgive myself for not working out the day before and the opportunity to stop body shaming myself. The idea of tomorrow gets me through every mistake of today. Knowing there is a chance to start clean and better myself and things around me. And knowing there is a time to stop worrying about what people think or how my life looks to the outside world.

So while I hope to eventually be the person that can make today all that it can be, I am going to be grateful for tomorrow. And I am going to find grace in tomorrow because perfection and I broke up a long time ago.

That load in the washer is definitely going to have to be re-washed.