“It’s not fair!”
This is a line that my son screams at me over and over again. He does it during tantrums and it often doesn’t make sense in the moment.
I want to scream these same words but I am sure I can use them properly. I do not want to scream them at my son, not at anyone in particular really. I just want to scream them into the universe because really this isn’t fair. This life that my son is living, that we are all living with him, is not fair.
It’s not fair that his brain developed during trauma and therefore can’t function the way it should.
It’s not fair that on top of this trauma, something is inherently different about the way my son’s brain functions adding mental illness on top of the trauma foundation.
It’s not fair that everything my son does from the moment he wakes up until the moment he goes to sleep at night is complicated, twisted, and warped by thoughts that make no sense to him or to the people around him.
It’s not fair that every feeling he experiences is an assault on his body that he can’t interpret. It all comes out as anger and it seems to make less and less sense with each passing day. On top of this, he can’t allow anyone to help him carry these powerful emotions and actively resists anyone who tries to be there for him.
It’s not fair that my little boy can’t just be a little boy. He doesn’t know how. His brain stopped being a little boy when he was too small to even remember as he experienced neglect and violence I can only imagine.
It’s not fair that he’s spent more hours in therapy and therapeutic care than I can count and none of it has really helped him.
It’s not fair that resources to support people like my son are few and far between. He is left to the mercy of what we can figure out with the support of therapists who are wonderful and devoted but at most times as uncertain as we are.
It’s not fair that he has to live with the daily side effects of medications that are not really even improving his quality of life.
It goes on and it’s just not fair.
I don’t have a solution right now. I don’t have the steps that lead to the hope for the solution but I do have a son. He is just a little boy. A little boy who is angry, sad, confused, and not able to be happy with his family in his own home.
There’s no pretty bow I can wrap around this story. There’s no powerful lesson that I can share with you right now. I just want you to know that stories like ours are out there because awareness is important.
Our family lives with this reality every day. We have to advocate for our child because we love him and we chose him. We choose him. This is adoption and it’s not always a fairy tale or happy ending. It is a raw, painful, life journey that is taking us to places we only hoped we would never be.
Hope is not gone. Hope is not lost but oh this life, it is so not fair.
More to come…