four days to go

(This picture has nothing to do with this post. I am just proud of this particular son and thought I would share)

The actual post:
I have spent the last week vacillating between denial and more denial. Two of my teens are away at their encampments. My newly minted fourteen year old is on the computer way too much and I haven’t had the emotional energy to shoo him off it. Since he is my no-interests-of-his-own child,I really need to make him put the lap top down and find something to do. I just haven’t had the heart to make him sad. In four more days his younger brother will be home and our life will no longer be quiet and somewhat boring. My fourteen year old will have to compete with his brother for any attention,which is hard since his brother will need to be on arm’s reach supervision. For a few days it will be just the two boys home. On Saturday my seventeen year old will return and my fourteen year old will have someone to keep him company if youngest gets to be too much. He will also have someone who is big enough to protect me in the house. My fourteen year old is only seventy-four pound…in his clothes…with his shoes on…soaking wet. His younger brother outweighs him by at least forty pound. Now, I am perfectly capable of keeping myself safe. I can still out muscle my youngest. I used to restrain drunks in DT’s for a living (although, if they were actually drunk,they wouldn’t have been in DT’s…). I can still safely restrain if I need to. My son just hates to see me do so. He is afraid that one time I will be too tired,or simply not strong enough and end up hurt. All my reassurances to the contrary fall on frightened,deaf ears.
As far as my denial…. I have been hesitant to do the finishing touches on preparing for my son’s return home. Until this weekend I have still thought he would blow. You see, I want my son to come home and I don’t want my son to come home. I want the boy who’s eyes lit up to see me on Saturday to come home. The last time I saw that version of my son was the day he signed his adoption papers at consummation. That son would be nice to see on a regular basis.I don’t want the son I saw the week before to come home. I am also not all that fond of his gangster, Mexican mafia wannabe version.
I don’t want to deal with the hypervigilance that occurs when he or his other violent selves are around. The hate gets old after a while.
I keep trying to tell myself I am seeing things and my son is not as complicated as he seems. He is just one manipulative RAD child. I am not seeing his face, his eyes, his speech patterns and his mannerisms change,sometimes rarely;sometimes several times in a couple of minutes. I am just looking for an excuse for my lack of ability in reaching him. He is fine. I am the hysterical one.
I have a fantasy.
In my fantasy world my son comes home and begins to settle in. He chooses to come home because he wants a family. In my fantasy he and my fourteen year old become friends. In my fantasy he allows me to comfort him.He is no longer homicidal. He isn’t fragmented. In my fantasy,my son heals.
I am either begging God to bring my son home or begging Him to keep him locked up. I can’t seem to make my mind up. I am afraid of him not coming home and never healing. I am afraid he will succeed in hurting someone if he does come home. Not exactly a win-win scenario.
Thursday at three PM we sign my son out and bring him home.
Prayers are always appreciated.