touching the raw

Lordy, what a night it was last night.

Another hissyfit but with outstanding results, if I can phrase it like that. Once again, a tiny, insignificant thing set the boy off - we asked him to pick a small piece of paper off the floor.

"It's not mine, I didn't put it there!", he yelled.

And he was off. Who knows what he was thinking at the time, but as mentioned previously, he has issues with blame. He can't accept blame for anything but I think this is part of his defence system where he anticipates 'bad stuff.'

Anyway, there he was on his bed, crammed into the corner facing the wall and doing the usual routine. At first, I stood over him and, raising my voice just slightly, told him that he really had no reason to treat us this way. That it is completely unfair. That he had nothing to fear with us. I'm determined not to yell at him as I know that sets him off even worse. This is a great lesson in self control if nothing else!

He was actually listening so I took it further and sat on the floor next to the bed, lowering my voice and just talking, talking, talking. I can't remember what started the turn in conversation, but suddenly he was talking about his biological dad.

I can see that underneath his blustering and noise and rudeness, the boy has been deeply hurt by that man. We talked about forgiveness and he shook his head.

"No, I can't forgive him."

"Why? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, you don't wanna know."

"What do you mean? I don't want to know about Fred (an alias)? What did he do?"

"You don't want to know what he did."

I spoke softly. "Do you want to tell me?"

He shakes his head and his bottom lip is trembling. At this point I am crying. He says I don't really care and I show him my tears. We hug with real emotion and I tell him that I understand. I understand why he is like he is, and it's okay. I ask him if he believes that things will work out.

"Not really."

"Yes, they will, but you have to believe it. Believe in your heart. I know it's like you are full of gunk right now, but bit by bit it will come out."

He nods and I tell him I love him. He's tired now, and so am I. I feel exhausted.

I give him my old childhood teddybear, which he knows is special to me, and ask him to look after it for the night. He snuggles down and is at peace.

I go to bed wondering what Fred has done and I am afraid.