Frying Pan - Meet Inferno (October 2016)

I did not think I would finish loading the POD on time, yet I did. It was rough physically and emotionally. Physically for obvious reasons, and emotionally because I had always had just a teensy bit of hope that that would be the place where Henry would come home to me and also because I have now completely severed all ties with the HCA Town. As I took one last look around before I closed the door to Apartment 97 on Thursday - the feelings were indescribable yet overwhelming.

And then, on Friday night, my stepbrother and I got into a major disagreement (read: very loud argument) about how people need to leave the past in the past and just move on and quit dwelling on all the stuff that's happened; just let it go. I tried (unsuccessfully) to explain to him how I was not the type of person that could do that. I just couldn't.

The whole thing started when I told him I would like to hurt my brother and slap my mother and everything he said after that sounded like he was defending the both of them.  Those weren't even the worst of the words he hurled at me.  (Of course  by this time I am already sobbing and ready to slit my wrists because it was just one more time in my life where I felt so fucking alone, unwanted and unnecessary and I had literally NO place to go. My back was in the corner and I had no idea how to even claw my way out because he brought out the big guns, so to speak, and that crippled me then and there.

Jack, my step brother, told me I needed to get off all this med shit because that is what was doing this to me. (This came after he smoked marijuana.)  He walked into another room when he said it and I dropped trou and yelled at him to come back and look. I asked him several times to look and several times, from a different room in the house he said "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

I continued yelling - almost screaming - even louder, "Jack, I'm serious COME AND FUCKING LOOK AT THIS!" I showed him the healing cuts on my right upper thigh and the healing marks on my left forearm. "THIS IS WHY I NEED THE MEDS I TAKE. THE MEDS ARE THE ONLY FUCKING THING KEEPING ME ALIVE."

I hate my life.

P.S. I did not self-harm after that. I promise. I thought very seriously about it - especially when I had an extremely sharp boning knife in my hand - yet I didn't do it.

Community Service

Last spring, right before school let out for summer vacation, Hunter had an incident at school where he broke a glass (yes, GLASS) chalkboard. Subsequently the police were notified, a police report was written up and Hunter was ordered to appear before the Juvenile Court's referee. Henry and I fully supported the chain of events and together, the three of us, appeared before the referee.

It was quite obvious that the referee we met with had been dealing with juveniles for a very long time and Henry and I left the meeting quite impressed with the way the referee spoke to Hunter and even more impressed with the way Hunter comported himself in front of the him.

Because Hunter was a "first time offender" and, Henry and I believed, the referee was also impressed with Hunter, he referred us to a mediator to resolve restitution.

Recently, Hunter and I met with two mediators as well as the principal of his former school. The five of us sat down and talked about what lead up to Hunter shattering the chalkboard in a fit of anger, then we discussed what Hunter could do to make reparations.

We came out of the meeting with Hunter having to write a letter to his new teachers to let them know how his body feels when he starts to lose control, what they can do to help, as well as what not to do (causing him to escalate out of control). Additionally, Hunter must perform 15-20 hours of community service.

For the past two days, as well as tomorrow, Hunter and I have been volunteers at an arts and crafts booth at a very large, and annual, festival in a neighboring town. By the end of the weekend he will have satisfied 15 hours of his mandatory community service and his file will be sealed.

Although an "arts and crafts" booth (actually a long table under a tent) sounds like an easy way out, there really is much more work to this particular one than even I imagined. And I'm a crafts-person! (In looking for a volunteer activity for Hunter it made sense for me to select something that interested me, too.)

Our booth is located inside "Kids Village" ~ directly in front of the main entrance to that fenced-in area. Being that the craft project is free, we have served a LOT of kids the past two days and I am certain tomorrow will be just as busy, if not busier being that it will be the last day of the festival.

The company hosting the booth gathers recyclable materials from area businesses and travels to schools, scout groups, birthday parties ~ wherever kids are ~ to provide bits and pieces of things to turn into works of art.

The art project we are helping the kids create is called a "Windjammer".

Using remnants of gaskets for automobiles (black foam circles with one sticky side), Popsicle sticks (as a handle), multicolored ribbons of paper (to dance in the wind), shiny black ribbons of video cassette tape (from a television station), and a box full of odds and ends (ticket stubs, beads, buttons, wooden letters, etc.) to decorate it with.

When the child has finished decorating the "face" of the windjammer we pour "Pixie Dust" (green, glittered sand) over it to remove the remaining stickiness so it doesn't get stuck in hair or on clothes. The kids LOVE it!

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Every now and again Hunter will say something to me that totally knocks my socks off. Yesterday, as soon as we figured out which area of the festival we would be in and he discovered several carnival rides, he asked me a few times if he could ride the rides. Of course I refused him because he was there satisfy his community service requirement, not play.

By the end of the day both of us were tired from being in the sun and heat, and overstimulated by the busy-ness of the booth and five different music booths competing for attention by attempting to be the loudest, so all I wanted to do was hop on the shuttle bus, get our vehicle and go home.

As we left "Kids Village" Hunter turned to me and remarked, "I don't deserve to ride the rides today because I didn't help you as much as I should have."

I. Was. Floored.

Granted we forgot Hunter's medication before we left the house and I had to have Henry drive it up to us, but Hunter had a terrific day anyway. To hear him say he didn't "deserve" something really blew me away.

After I picked my jaw up off my shoes I replied "You're right, Hunter and I am pleased to hear you recognize that in yourself.

Today, while dealing with a VERY crazy-busy crowd of kids, Hunter said this: "I have to say, Mom, you are really great with kids!"

That's MY boy!