*The birth family who abused him.
*The placing social worker who lied to us.
*The therapist who blamed me for not loving him enough.
*The psychiatrist who blamed me for not loving him enough, for being to harsh, for parenting him in a way that was not the norm.
*The RTC/Foster Care agency therapist who believed that I was the abuser when he was abusing me.
*And anyone else who pointed their fingers at me. Which was everyonne. Everyone in my life.
*My husband for making me give him the ultimatem to choose either our younger children or the child who could not/would not/choose not to attach and would/choose not to be 'safe" to be around. For making him resent me at times for that choice.
*The group home person who called my husband a few years ago and got this kid in contact w/my husband and re-opening up the grief and level of fear on my part.
Those people....I often want to punch. Tonight.....there is no often. I would do it.
I'm angry tonight. Down right vile and angry. Of course when I can't sleep I get angry. I close my eyes, come close to falling asleep and wake in a furry of fear w/the 8yr old child he was in my home standing over me while i slept, with a knife in his hand.....these are the things that haunt me. Somehow, I'm supposed to find happiness and be proud of him. Fuck that.
I'm angry for many reasons. Not sleeping has nothing to do with it. I know that anger doesn't help grief. I know that anger fuels depression. I dont' much give a shit.
I'm not a violent person. I say or think about hitting things often. I don't. Yet, the urge tonight is there like it never has been before.
I know this is more a topic for my disruption blog. Here's the deal...the people that read that...they want to tell me positive things. Fuck you probably will too. Go right ahead. I will read them. I will not agree with them. I will not even be angry at your for doing it. But damn it all....it wasn't because of me. And I don't want to hear that. I don't want to hear that I should be happy for him. Because you know what...I'm not. I'm fucking pissed. I'm pissed that HE CHOOSE to not heal. He was given all the tools. He was given everything he needed. He continued to choose..and STILL DOES to be violent. And I'm angry that he choose these things. He choose to not accept my love. He choose to not let me be his mom. To love him. To be there for him and heal his hurts. And damn it all I'm fucking pissed off --- at him!