boy gone

I've been online for about 4 hours now - that's the longest in ages, but it's great. I feel in control again; I feel like getting things done and putting everything in order. I know it's because the Boy has finally gone home.

You might notice that there has been a distinct lack of activity in this blog. I had grand plans for it to be a chronicle of 'adventures with Boy', but it didn't turn out like that. The whole Boy experience was so wearying that it bleached the zestiness right out of me. Surprisingly.

Although I never thought that his stay with us was going to result in a Holy Grail moment on a mountain top complete with blinding white light and heavenly choir where the child cries,"I see the light! And now I shall be good forever...!" I did expect more of the situation.

But, in rationalising the why's of his behaviour it's not a disappointment. How can you eclipse ten years of bad treatment in six months? You can't. You certainly can't when the driving force behind his way of thinking is his mother, who even now still believes that he is at fault; that he has some mental disorder. You can tell that she wants to be told 'there's something wrong with him' as this would make it easier for her to cope. I can understand that but to not even try to get your own child back; to show little interest in him as a person.

And now she is saying that she won't change his name (he has her maiden name) to that of his family because it would be sad to have the xxxx name disappear. Methinks the lady needs to re-examine her priorities.

And so, he has gone home. There was no point in keeping him here when his heart was pining for his mum - we were after all only a gap filler providing time for them to regroup and get counselling; get local assistance; work out a plan. They didn't of course.

In the meantime, we worked hard to make him feel safe and accepted; to fill him full of peace and comfort and good thoughts - as well as setting down standards and sticking to our guns and dishing out 'consequences' when he left the path. In the end, though, I think he began to resent us for keeping him. You could tell he was thinking, 'Why aren't they asking me to come home?'

I knew then that it was time - there was nothing to gain from him staying on and they had to take back responsibility for his life, for the rest of his life.

That's why I'm back. I have my life, my space, my home and my family again. The internal turmoil that became so externalised has evaporated in his wake.

I feel for him, but selfishly I'm released.