Today’s post will be raw and unedited. I don’t have much time, nor do I have the energy right now to care much about semantics and all that good stuff. So bear with me.
My 7 year old is in a mental hospital.
For the first 5 years of his life, he was abused physically, emotionally, and sexually. His 3 full-siblings were, too, and so was I. Unfortunately, I was not aware of most of the abuse against the kids until May 2008, and that is when we were finally able to get the jerk out of the house and into prison. Since then, it’s been an upward battle to survive and try to find the help we need to get back on our feet.
You can read more about those 6 years of misery here:
(There will be more added as time allows)
Anywho, we all still struggle emotionally, but the 7 year old struggles the most. When he told me on Sunday, February 28, that he was going to “take one of [my] kitchen knives and cut [his] lungs open, so that all the air will come out” because he knows that “it will work; the doctors won’t be able to save” him, I called the family doctor and got the ball rolling. It has been determined that outpatient care isn’t enough for him right now, and so we admitted him to a mental facility on Saturday, March 7.
He’s loving it, but I miss my baby! The place is in another state, and we are only allowed an hour and a half visit each day. Visiting hours are scheduled very close to bedtime and during the only free time the kids get all day, so he asked that we only visit every 2-3 days. Today is an off day, and I’m not sure I’ll last until tomorrow, but hopefully he’ll at least give me a call this evening. And, really, it is nice not having to sit in the car for 3 hours for the first time since Friday.
As for the rest of us….
I’m still having a hard time finding anyone who will work with the other children, because they are so young. But I will continue to fight until each one receives the help he/she needs. I’d rather have them work through things with a counselor now than have them end up where their brother is somewhere down the line.
And me? Well, I’m okay. I have a wonderful fiancé and an even greater God. Once my kids are all home, happy and safe, I’ll have everything I need.