Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady in the scary house

Another Shoe?

August 06, 2003 ... 11:46 p.m.

...

Just when you were thinking everything at das haus von Eibisch was sunshine and lollipops...

My brother has been diagnosed with a lot of problems. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Inhibited Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) are just a couple.

RAD just turns adoptive/soon-to-adopt parents blood cold.

The behaviors have been evident, I haven�t written about them. Maybe I was hoping they would just go away, I don�t know.

He has tried to kill Tinker twice. He hides knives in my room. He split my lip once. There�s more, but I don�t want to go on.

It�s exceedingly hard for me to realize everything this past year and some odd months has all been some kind of ploy. Every show of affection has been just that. A show.

On one hand I feel such overwhelming sympathy/pity/sorrow for what must have happened in the past to manifest in this way. He�s 9. He�s just a little boy.

On the other hand, this may be it. Disruption may be a decision. Disruption. God. We all had some adjustment issues in the beginning, but his behaviors are so draining--mentally, physically and emotionally. I can�t fault my mom if that is what she decides. Over a year of living with violent tantrums lasting 3 or more hours, my life being threatened and on and on--it never ends...I just can�t fault her. I know what she�s been dealing with. I�ve been dealing with it. I cannot adequately express the gravity of this situation. Or the confusion I feel.

I don�t want him to go. And yet, a small part of me feels a tremendous sense of relief at the thought of disruption. That�s horrible--you think I don�t know that? I know, believe me, I know. But, God help me, it�s how I feel. Talk about guilt. I just want him to be alright. I just want him to be a relatively normal boy. I just want to snap my fingers and make everything okay.

I can�t. I can�t help him. I can�t help Mom. I can�t help myself. I don�t know what to do. Everything is up in the air now. WSU/transferring...I don�t know. Is it disgustingly selfish to still want out of here? I�m a bit afraid that I just want to get away so I can pretend it is sunshine and lollipops from a distance. More guilt.

I�m sorry this entry doesn�t have even one semi-humorous line in it, but I need to talk. Who else can I talk to? My friends all just think he�s an angel--mostly because I haven�t been forthcoming. Mom? She�s a little too involved. I suppose I could talk to my bishop. But, cripes, I hate burdening others. Even if that is their job.

It�s just one thing after another around here. Day after day, it�s just more crap. Can�t catch a break.

Damn it all to hell. I give up.

Currently Reading: ...

Listening To: AFI
...swept off our feet by misery...

Have a happy day!

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