Switch Plates

Even the wall switch plates have taken a beating. It's only been about 25% of my children who've been extremely destructive, the vandalism shocking, but this is the first time in a long time that what I'm repairing will stay repaired. It had been very disheartening over the years to carefully fix something, while feeling someone else's eyes boring a blazing hole in my back, knowing the delight they were imagining in again destroying something, putting twisted action to their sad/mad/bad feelings, it was almost a physical release for them.

It stressed me out terribly.

There'd be nothing I could do about it. No consequence that wouldn't lead to another act of vandalism. I learned this the hard way. They wanted to 'win' the battle. There's no way I could ever do so in my own house, because the stakes were higher in their own minds. This was addressed in therapies and therapeutic resources/interventions/placements, etc., but to no avail.

I literally and physically represented all that they felt was wrong with their life. I represented the reason they were not with their birth parents - who they usually didn't even remember. Don't confuse them with the facts.

That this was only a minority percentage of the population here has been my saving grace, but the constant onslaught has certainly taken its toll on everyone in our family.

Feces smearing, bed wetting, shocking acts of aggression, constant damages, extreme defiance, argumentative behaviors, unrelenting oppositionalism, simmering hatred and explosive rages, physical attacks, thefts, and malicious lies have all conspired to now leave me slumping here at home in very extreme relief, but also still pushing forward, trying to power my way back into the Land of the Living.

As I slowly, happily repainted a bedroom, patching every hole, dent and flaw, I noticed the window trim that was different as I'd paid a repair person about two thousand dollars several years ago to replace windows, we'd had so many of them broken out by kids who knew that would make me sad. Well, duh.

I paid $4,000 during the month Grandpa died to gut a bathroom that had been destroyed, several thousand more on another bathroom. Miss Cissy had redone two other bathrooms for me as a gift maybe five years ago. I have some more big ticket repair jobs pending, but am saving up slowly for them, it's not a whip out the credit card moment, because I do NOT want to be in debt. I'd rather live with the disrepair.

I'm budgeting about $200 monthly for Lowe's as I repaint, caulk, patch, replace, and repair slowly all the intensively shocking damages. Jack replaced a doorknob for me yesterday, he's only 11, but he knows how to do it, as nearly every single door in this house has been compromised over the years. We've even had to replace door frames. Banisters have come down in pieces and closet rods broken on the floor, kids angrily staring at my own shock, daring me to react.

I could never afford to react, I didn't have that luxury. I could only repair, knowing it'd happen again and again and again. Anyone wonder why those same now mostly grown kids are not allowed here? I'm not even discussing the even more serious issues. I'd advise others to steer clear as well for their own personal safety. Please trust me on this.

For the fourth Wednesday night in a row, I've made it to church services. This feels good. I'd made a New Years resolution to do so, it's more important to me than errands, tasks, chores, and other to do list items that stress me out. I need the mid-week dose of encouragement.

I cleaned hard all day yesterday, 8-3, nonstop, finally sitting down to eat a sandwich when Tabby and Nando came home from school, but this is a big house, and I was very positively energized, knowing it won't be undone on purpose by severely disturbed kids, who know they can make me sad by simply kicking another hole in the wall.

A F%^& You moment that they really couldn't help. The level of disturbance was too severe to function normally. They'd thrived on that control issue, that ability to direct an adult's attention so strongly and negatively. They hated positive attention, would make me 'pay' for being nice, the very deep-seated self-loathing that we addressed constantly in therapy never healed. Some of them now on their own and not doing too great.

I had one gown kid charged while in jail for destruction of government property as he'd defaced and done his level best to destroy a jail cell. Yes, this is what I lived with for a long, long time, trying my best to provide love, nurturance, food and shelter.

That sentiment was echoed at a facility where the Director told me they'd finally just put wood up from the floor to the ceiling to protect the sheet rock. To protect the sheet rock? Eventually I gave up on the walls, spending all my time protecting human beings.

Child Welfare professionals need to understand the severity that can be evident in children. Most of middle America is clueless. I think I've mentioned recently that a worker had told me she spends more time talking families out of even trying with some kids they think they can adopt. I agree with the worker, knowing a disruption would be inevitable. Some kids will not ever function in a family environment where there are potential victims. It's a very sad fact. It is not the child's fault. It is nobody's fault, this is what mental illness looks like, and it doesn't just happen when they become adults, it's evident in childhood.

Yep, many of us live this way and have done so for years. Daniel used to be my glass pane replacement go to guy, but the big ticket replacement man had put in windows that didn't have panes, thus ensuring bigger repair costs. I should've caught that tactic, but I was then too busy putting out fires, literally and figuratively.

Today is Dr Mandy Day, I have grocery store and Lowes on my list, it's gonna be a stormy evening, we've had a great deal of rain lately, but our overall rain deficit remains. The weather's been warm and I have masses of daffodils in vases. Hyacinths are up and Nando'd picked the tiny wild crocus blooms as well.