Well. Just got off the phone with a social worker from the hospital where David is. I had to explain what “the boys hide in their rooms to feel safe from David” means. David told staff that he tells me things like “if you like, I can stab you with a knife” because he thinks that is what I want to hear. Why would I “want” to hear something like that? If he tells me things that he thinks I want to hear, wouldn’t it stand to reason that he would do the same thing in the mental health unit? Don’t get me wrong, we have and have had some pretty incredible social workers helping with David’s care. But once in a while… you have to wonder. The social worker repeatedly informed me that they are an acute care facility and that we should make more use of the safe
I cried today. I cried while mowing my lawn. Mowing gives you time to think. The drone of the mower is perfect for masking thoughts, for allowing them a fertile breeding ground. I cried for David. For the little boy who wants so desperately to be loved, yet pushes away and punishes those who love him most, his family. I cried for the hope that is diminishing a little each day. A hope that he will see that what he is doing is wrong, and the way he treats people is wrong. I cried out in prayer. Something that I do everyday. Pray. Does God hear my prayers? I believe that he does. I believe that David was brought into our lives for a reason. Ours is not to question why. Yet we struggle daily with his behaviors, his attitude, the words he says, the things he does. We struggle.
This has been something of a roller coaster week. I was in Indianapolis for the National Disability Rights Network annual conference. Some fantastic networking opportunities. A lot of great information, fabulous food and weather. At home, David was busy doing what David does. At the top of the list? He forged a check. He was charged with unruly behaviors and taken to safe bed. So now I need to determine what further charges should be contemplated. Do I press charges for forging a check on my account? Today, I brought him home from the safe bed. For the most part he has been good. I have allowed him zero freedoms. I hate doing that, but he needs to know that actions have consequences. To quote him, “safe bed is a worse place than here, and they let me go outside. So how come I can’t go outside.” then he says