Old News
Another resentment now, and one that I really have let go of long ago. I include it now only because what I have never done is examine my own part in this event--how I contributed to it and made it possible. But that's column for in the 4th step, so I need to do columns 2 and 3 to get there. So here goes:
My son, who came into the world so happy and sunny a kid that we nicknamed him Felix--happy--almost as soon as he was born, began to show signs of real trouble at about age six. Moodiness, rages, sometimes begging us to buy him a toy "to cheer me up:" in short, a proto-addict. We took him to every kind of warm-hearted humanistic new age therapist we could fine, and a couple of standard therapist, and got all kinds of advice, but he just got angrier and more difficult and finally one night, when a variety of circumstances came together, my wife hauled off and whalloped him across the face so hard it left a red mark that had the Department of Childrens Services and the police at our doorstep the next day. When the situation was investigated the authorities pointed us in the direction of family counseling and left it at that--they saw how we'd been pushed to the edge by a situation we couldn't understand or control. She hit him a couple of more times after that, after which, God bless her, she sought her own help and started taking anti-depressants and nothing like that every happened again. Okay: that's that story of that resentment. What really counts her is: when I get to column four, a couple of posts from now, I'll look at the ways in which I, Mr. Innocent, Mr, she's-the-one-who-lost-her-temper, am actually not so blameless in that situation.
To end on a happy note--my wife and son spent many years working this out, as my son went literally to hell and back--including two years at an emotional growth boarding school (read: reform school) along the way--and he's now 18 a freshman in college and doing beautifully and they have a wonderful close relationship.
My son, who came into the world so happy and sunny a kid that we nicknamed him Felix--happy--almost as soon as he was born, began to show signs of real trouble at about age six. Moodiness, rages, sometimes begging us to buy him a toy "to cheer me up:" in short, a proto-addict. We took him to every kind of warm-hearted humanistic new age therapist we could fine, and a couple of standard therapist, and got all kinds of advice, but he just got angrier and more difficult and finally one night, when a variety of circumstances came together, my wife hauled off and whalloped him across the face so hard it left a red mark that had the Department of Childrens Services and the police at our doorstep the next day. When the situation was investigated the authorities pointed us in the direction of family counseling and left it at that--they saw how we'd been pushed to the edge by a situation we couldn't understand or control. She hit him a couple of more times after that, after which, God bless her, she sought her own help and started taking anti-depressants and nothing like that every happened again. Okay: that's that story of that resentment. What really counts her is: when I get to column four, a couple of posts from now, I'll look at the ways in which I, Mr. Innocent, Mr, she's-the-one-who-lost-her-temper, am actually not so blameless in that situation.
To end on a happy note--my wife and son spent many years working this out, as my son went literally to hell and back--including two years at an emotional growth boarding school (read: reform school) along the way--and he's now 18 a freshman in college and doing beautifully and they have a wonderful close relationship.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home