Almost 2 years ago, I wrote "Childless "evil" step-mom seeking outlet for full time horror." It was a rough end of the year. My in-laws visited, my mother-in-law listened to my sad tales of woe and horror with kids, seeming supportive. Then, when they left, called to tell my DH that they worried --> I <-- was going to put the SS in a mental institution because I was the one who had a problem. Since I "went and quit my job" they were concerned that I was going to lash out at SS and put him in a place he didn't need to be. And, they offered to take him off our hands. 

I was in the car when they called. My DH had them on speaker. They didn't know I was there. I was driving and could barely drive us home from sobbing. I was comepletly and utterly betrayed. I gave up. I just became further and further depressed. I had a theapist, he was deeply concerned for me and sure that the boy (SS) was going to kill us all. lol I had to finally one day let go. I cried and cried and asked God to just take me away. Then, I went downstairs and apologized. TO THEM. It was magical (enter EXTREME sarcasm...) their behavior stopped. They were pleasant and it was as if NOTHING had ever happened between us..... I was flumoxed.....but my DH was happy that all was right in the world again. 

SO we thought....

Fast forward. For my birthday (January) it was great. The kids really went all out. Even got me cards that said I was more their real mom than BM. By this time the ho bag BM had been over seas for several months and the kids were done with her. Feeling deeply abandoned and resentful. By Spring, it was as if we were a whole new family. I chaulked it up to....maybe I was being hard on them. Maybe I caused all this with being over reactive... Mother's day was awesome. The kids made me cry with their beautiful gifts and we had a GREAT day. 

The next day, SD was in deep dooky. On the way to the buses home that Monday (Mother's Day was a Sunday 2019) he made some comments to the teacher's aid that he "had enough bullets to shoot up the school." The principal called later that afternoon and let us know that a Threat assessment would need to be done the next day. The boy had no idea what he had done. DH reamed hime and asked WTH??? Boy child was like, "what?" He half said he didn't mean it and said those things all the time and the other half he said, "Well yea I feel that way..." It was a disaster. 

So, next day, threat assessment. I bring the boy child's backpack b/c surely this is all a big misunderstanding and we can all go back to real life. The principal was convinced we'd work it out and it would all be fine. Until....they started to ask questions. The boy child let loose thoughts of suicide (as recent as the week before), murder (and how to do it), and more. As he continued to talk DH and I's faces dropped more and more. Oh crap. This is no good. The boy has been psychiatrically hospitalized twice since he was 10, had the cops called on him, as well as murder animals. There was no way we were getting out of there with "just get him to therapy."

The resource officer suggested the Community Health Board and we went. The boy child was completely unfazed. We were there for HOURS. And when we finally saw someone, she asked some very clever and pointed questions that revealed MORE of the insanity that I had living in my home. Oh dear God. It was worse than we thought. He was straight up homicidal. They suggested Mobile Crisis at the hospital for a behavior analysis and safety from harm. DH was less than pleased as we have been here before. But, I seethed, what were we supposed to do?! Go home and "deal with it." Oh no! The boy had our hands tied for us. We HAD to take him because I WAS NOT going to be that woman on the news with the camera woman asking me why I hadn't done something since the boy had done ___ and ___. NO MA'AM. NOT TODAY SATAN. The boy goes WHEREVER they suggest. 

We had lunch. The boy ate an enchilada straight faced. Cool as the god damned sour cream on top. I asked him, "how to you feel about all this? You may go back to a mental facility." "Meh, I've been there before so I know what I'm getting into." Oh. My. God. Seriously?!?! The ER wasn't much better. When we FINALLY got a room we were in for the long haul. It could be 24 hours before a bed opened at any of the 3 facilities he could go to. This of course is after the psych/ behavior eval and they were sure he should go to acute. I stayed with the little creep because one nurse was being SUPER DUPER cute with him. Offering candy and the like. UM. NO. He's not injured. He's psycho! And how do you know my kid isn't sensitive or allergic? I stayed there all night. Seething. Dirty. Smelly. Can't wash my crotch. Lights and sounds everywhere. No comfort. No bed. Just a chair to sleep in. By morning, I was less than polite and chipper. DH came to relieve me but I wasn't going ANYWHERE until he was where he needed to be. DH has a way of codoling him and being TOO nice and forgiving. I wasn't going to miss a THING!

He gets a bed at the facility we wanted. Yay. And we follow ambulance there w/ him. Drop him and go home. We were exhausted and unsure of what was next. First few days we found out- A LOT. Psychiatrist comes with coding in insurance about bipolar disorder THAT HE WAS ALREADY DIAGNOSED WITH YEARS AGO!!!!!!!!!!!! WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTtttttttttttt!!??! Going through the boy's medical paperwork and education file I learned A LOT about the boy that poor DH never knew because BM took them to all medical appointments. OH. MAI. GAWD. He spent 20 odd days in acute, supposed to be 9 - 11 days but he kept threatening to hurt hisself or others. 

In the meantime, we searched for a residential facility that could help him with some issues and diagnosis. We settled on a great place not far from home. This was on the edges of the kids' summer vacation to their paternal grandparents for the summer. Well, at least the girl was. You know, the ones that think I'm gonna get him placed in a facility becasue I CAN'T HANDLE HIM. Yea. He had to spend 3 days at home. It was 3 days too many. The first day or so wasn't terrible but I felt I had to baby sit him. Worried he was going to go ballistic or worse. SD was really awkward with him and was not sorry he had been gone. By the third day, the day before he left, he was odd waking up. Acting strange. Made me uncomfortable. When I sent him to shower for the day he acted odd. It took forever for him to get into the bathroom and even longer that I noticed the shower wasn't running. That's when I noticed that our two dogs were missing. ..... I aksed SD and, with a straight face said, "Maybe they are in the bathroom with ____" WHAT?!?!?!? Why?!?!? I ran up there and asked if the dogs were indeed in there. Yes, he says hesitantly. I threw open the door. He had to hide behind closet door since he was naked. Dogs are looking up at him. I was comepletly and utterly FREAKED OUT. I told DH later and was very upset. I had no idea why they were or what happened. Asking the boy is like talking to a concrete slug so didn't get anything out of him. Asking SD she acted like this was a NORMAL occurance. When I asked why she never said anything she just shrugged. X_X

So speed this up, we take him to facility, then head for a 9 hour drive to grandparents. Drive home next day, exhausted emotionally. The next few months were literally hell. Boy hadn't been there 2 weeks before he starts to go AWOL and act up. We went to 2 sessions before he drops us with another bomb. He had lied on intake that he had never had a sexual experience. He had. WITH HIS SISTER. The in's and out's will frankly make you need therapy so I will leave it with we were physically sick. We were pissed. We were gone mentally. I lost my mind. We drank so much vodka the next few months it was unreal. Had to. I had no earthly idea how we were going to survive this. Boy continued to get worse at facility and they ended up kicking him out. This time, we took him ER there was no concerned daddy for his son. Boy had to be REASSESSED so we could get him in another faciltiy. The previous one had called SVU through CPS to get the boy investigated. The ball rolled from there. They sent him to the same acute faciity, he stayed there a few days, before being admitted to their residential side. Oh god, we were so over it. 

This facility has 4 levels he must meet along with specific therapy. He was being investigated/ charged with agrevated sexual assault and we were trying to keep it together. Two more tragedies struck in early July and late August- I'll spare the details. It was a shit show. Invloved DH and I and it was just a mess. SD was home by this point and we had her strating therapy, let her know we knew about this crap, and DH was starting therapy too. 

Since then, it's been on and off. The boy will not talk to us about the what, where, why, or hows about ANY of it. In fact, it's been over a year there and he JUST reached Level 2. Therapist called last week to tell us he may never leave, never reconcile or confess to us, and that we have to consider the other options with therapy. He can never come home- he knows it- and refuses to comply. But we can't have him here. 

I've made peace with it. It's a tragedy and more for us than him. He can rot there and he will. He isn't going anywhere. It's been a long road and here were are. To today. I'll have to write that one seperately about the girl child's issues now. But, I needed to get all that out to start on the next chapter.... X_X