On the night of the 4th of July I decided to stay at my home instead of heading out to be with friends, just to make sure that if my oldest son decided to invite his friends over to our home and pool that there would be some adult supervision. I believe that the fact that I was there was the primary reason that he actually decided to head over to a friends home up the street to spend the 4th doing fireworks and sharing with his friends instead of at our place. At around ten in the evening he came home on his bike and all seemed well, which pleased me to no end. Then he said he was going back and would return later. Being a holiday I figured I should probably not worry too much and let him be, so I just went to bed hoping that he would come back at a reasonable hour so I could eventually get some real sleep. At 2:30 a.m. I heard the familiar sound of one of the back sliding doors opening so I got out of bed to make sure all was well. Once again I found myself sadly disappointed when my oldest son staggered into the house drunk as a skunk. Any and all of you that might of experienced dealing with a drunk individual already know that there is no reasoning or value to trying to make a point with them. The details are now fuzzy because even though I started to write this post several days ago, now time has gone by and so much more has happened. What started at 2:30 in the morning, eventually ended sometime around 7:00 a.m. when he finally crashed and fell asleep. During those four and a half hours I followed my son in and out and all about in hopes that I could keep him from getting into any greater trouble. At one point in time I followed him into an alley that he crawls into by a large water tank just a few homes up the street when he needs to be by himself. I sat there for several hours listening to him babble a million words about nobody understanding the true essence of life and happiness. When I would try to ask him questions he would get louder and seemingly upset, so eventually I just sat on the ground quietly and listened.
What impacted me the most that night was something I heard him say after he tried to strike me with his fist and missed by a mile on one of his walks out in the neighborhood. I was merely trying to get him to come back home because it was late and I knew that if the police would drive by, or someone called because of his loud behavior, the night was going to get a lot longer and complicated. As he eventually jumped into his mother's car which was following the drama behind us he said, "take me away from him, he is pure evil," making a reference to me. I obviously did not take it personal, who in their right mind would take anything a drunk individual says personal during their incoherent babble? On the other hand, what an incredible hurtful choice of words to call me "pure evil." I have no doubt that in his mind, somewhere deep he truly does perceive my caring for him as some kind of evil manipulation. Otherwise why would he have chosen those words to describe my otherwise calm behavior that night? I have gotten plenty angry with him in the past, yet for some reason that day I was simply taking it all in strides and hoping to get the night over without significant complications. This perception that he has of my caring for him could be one of the main reasons that while he is under the influence he gets so angry at me. I love this boy so much, yet in his mind and probably in his heart he has chosen to cancel my goodwill and replace it with some misguided sense of hate. If there is something that I have learned in my life, changing a way someone feels about you is probably one of the most difficult tasks encountered. All it takes is one word or a single gesture to incorrectly assess the true intentions of someone that really cares for you. Years of love, dedication, and caring, can all be cancelled out with a single planted thought into the mind of an otherwise amazingly smart individual. I am in awe with the power of our minds.
After the 4th of July came several days of soberness followed by others of drunkenness. Every time I am around him when he is out of control I find myself being more and more afraid of him. Ever since he literally jumped me in May and I found myself with a fractured thumb and a great deal of sadness for his unprovoked aggressiveness, I have not been able to return back to being myself. I have tried to be strong, to be unafraid, but the truth is that at the moment I am back to being damaged goods. I not only fear for his erradic and compulsive actions, I also fear that if he gets violent I will find myself having to defend myself and possibly hurting him without malice. I cannot recall a time in my life for which I have prayed more than the last two months. During most of my moments of solitude, while I drive back home from work, I find myself inmersed in intense conversations with God almost on a daily basis. Even though I have left my own personal anger for my circumstances out of my thought process, I cannot help but feel an inmense sense of sadness inside me. I no longer question why things are happening, but instead I pray words of faith professing how God's blessings are just around the corner of my son's life. I thank Him for taking care of us, for not allowing things to be worse, and I beg for a miracle in our lives.
PRAYER: "Dear God, I am ready for you to heal not just his mind, but also his heart and soul. Turn me, and him into your instrument so that we can give testimony of your love and compassion. Spare us now, heal us now, and bless us all the time. I trust that You are already doing this even though I am unable to see it with my limited sight. Give me faith to stay strong and on course. Amen."
I ask my dear friends and all of you to please pray for us. Do it with all of your heart so that God will have no other choice but to send his angels to take care of us. I expect nothing less than a miracle soon.
Dad
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