Hell

Last night I realized that there really is no help out there. I have realized that today I can go on suffering in my ever looming depression and lack of support that I need. Or I can reach out to the one spirit I know can help me. Today God I give you my problems, I give you my pain, I give you the questions that are eating me up inside that go unanswered, and I realize that all you want me to do in return is to live my life with Joy and faith. Today I accept your help.
I’m not sure when the spiral down into hells basement started with Patrick’s mind, but I believe what pushed him over the staircase was his believing that his teachers now hate him, and that his teacher called him a cry baby in front of the whole class.
To describe his actions for the last week in words is too difficult. I’ve been hit, I’ve been called mean names, and my younger son has been hit, has been yelled at and has been the target of abuse all week. He has ran away, he has threatened to kill us, to kill himself, to call the police on us, begged us to find him a new family, cried, yelled, sworn, wanted to eat lots of food, didn’t want to eat at all. To make him happy was not happening. He demanded we take him places to get toys and if we didn’t jump and do it he screamed and cried.
Wednesday when I walked in my house from work, Patrick was sobbing real scared and hurt sobs; my husband said he was taking Patrick to the hospital. My heart was ripped out of my chest right then and there and stomped on. My husband could not understand my cries to not go, and he left with both my children to the hospital. I hurt so bad, after all we have been through this week, and to face this right when I got home from work was just beyond copeable. I had to go to preschool orientation and I just sat in class like my body was there and my mind was somewhere else. I got home and I’ll I could think about was getting a knife and stabbing my leg. I just had to rid my mind of my pain. I even got up and held the knife a couple times, but I didn’t do it.
My husband and the boys got home at 10 pm, the hospital would not admit him because he was not a threat to himself. They set up a meeting the next morning at CMH. His doctor agreed with Doug and said Patrick was unstable and they should go back to the ER. The CMH intake decided not to agree with the doctor and blamed our family for the issues and said we had two choices take him home or have him put in foster care. FOSTER CARE? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That is NOT an option. And something wrong with home? Yeah we have an unstable child making the family unstable. Not the opposite. Please not the opposite, but is it? I really do not want to go down my own staircase of hell where I blame everything that’s ever gone wrong with my child on me. I’m so sick of people blaming my parenting, but if so many people do blame us, me, is it me?
Both my husband and I know that are marriage is now only hanging on by thin strings, and it’s just so sad that we both admitted we were contemplating divorce. That sad thing is, it’s not about love, its really not even about money, its about parenting. It’s about both of us not wanting to walk on eggshells everyday of our lives. We are both just so lost. We are both on the verge of entering are own personal hell. He is coping with unbearable pain in his back, two special children, and a wife that is depressed. I am coping with the stress of trying to keep the basic needs of our family taken care of, shelter, food, clothing, dealing with a stressful job, dealing with a husband that is in pain, dealing with two special kids.
So today God – I give you this. I am writing today saying please help us, please keep our marriage strong, we vowed to you, please help us. I know I can’t do it without you.