loving an explosive child

I hate you. I wish I’d never met you. I hope you die. You are not my mother, you will never be my mother and when I leave I am never going to visit you again. You are stupid. You ruined everything. I never want to see you again. Dial the goddamn numbers on the telephone because I am leaving. If you don’t do what I tell you this very minute I am going to smash you. You fucking bitch. 

This is the barrage of words I’ve received almost daily over the last few months from my 8 year old son. It is often followed by door slamming, things flying across the room, intense screaming, hot angry tears of defeat (mostly from me) and fear of what’s to come.

I’d kept quiet for so long, willing things to get better. But a few weeks ago I finally broke and let it all spill out to T. It’s hard not to feel like a total failure when your child appears to hate you. T says that no matter how bad I feel, under all of that anger, he still loves me. Most days I don’t believe it. T suggested that I go see my family doctor and have him referred to a child psychiatrist for assessment. The behaviour is definitely not normal and I can’t deal with it on my own anymore. So I’m calling to set up an appointment. The unknown is absolutely terrifying.

It’s hard.

It’s hard to imagine things changing for the better.

It’s hard not giving up on life.

It’s hard not to turn my back and just let him go.

When things are good, they’re awesome. Then there are those days (more than I’d like to admit) where everything goes from perfect to awful in the blink of an eye. It seems to be simple things that set him off; telling him he can’t have more computer time, asking him to pick up the toys he left laying on the floor, suggesting he needs to wear a sweatshirt under a thin jacket, asking him to do his homework (with help), saying he needs to share with his little brother or not cooking his food the way he wants it.

Imagine a pop can being shaken and then imagine snapping the top off of it. That’s him when things go bad.

I want to change it all. I want his life to be so much easier.

I look at pictures of him and I feel lost. Where is that happy boy who just loves life? Where is that little boy with the dark mysterious eyes and beautiful smile? What has happened that makes you so angry? What can I do to fix it?

Please, just let me fix it.


I love him.

I love all of the messy, angry pieces of him.

Even when it feels utterly impossible, I still love him.

I always have.

I always will.

5 thoughts on “loving an explosive child

  1. This sounds so unbelievably hard. I hope the child psychiatrist can help. I watched a programme recently about a little boy who exploded at his Mum like you’ve described and the therapist treated it as rage triggered by fear (in his case caused by trauma as a young child when his mum was very ill after baby no. 2) and things calmed down a lot. I’m not saying this is the same as with your little boy, but I’m sharing it as I think it shows there is hope. I hope it does xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: methinks I might need a new doctor | This Takes Courage

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