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Do you ever reach that point in parenting where you feel completely overwhelmed? I’m not talking about needing a quick break to run errands alone; I mean the kind of overwhelmed that makes you consider escaping for a while—maybe to your parents’ house or even a hotel for some solitude? I feel like I’m on the edge and can almost taste the need for a break.
My son, Lucas, struggles with severe behavioral issues. He’s on medication for ADHD and mood stabilization due to oppositional defiant disorder, and despite our efforts with therapy, nothing seems to change. It feels like I’m no longer his mother but rather his emotional punching bag. He doesn’t lash out physically, but his words can be painfully cutting. With his condition, I seem to be the target; he can twist any situation into a blame game, and honestly, I’m just done!
Last weekend, we went on a trip to a waterpark, entirely for him. Lucas doesn’t enjoy roller coasters or major rides at amusement parks, so the waterpark felt like a perfect choice. He wanted to wander off on his own, and while I was hesitant, I eventually agreed. He’s a teenager—social and independent—and I trusted him to stay safe. He was thrilled, and I was happy to see him excited. But when he left and didn’t return for hours, I started to feel uneasy.
Eventually, he returned from the water coaster beaming. I should have insisted he check in more often, but at that moment, I was just relieved. We decided to grab a pretzel, and that’s when everything fell apart. As I handed him the food, he glared at me and started his tirade:
“You ate without me, didn’t you? I can’t believe you’d do that!”
I tried to reason with him, explaining that he chose to wander off and I attempted to get him food, but he refused to stop.
“I can’t believe you would do this to your own son! I hate this family!” he yelled.
That was my breaking point. His behavior was completely irrational, and I was exhausted. I turned away, seeking refuge with my husband, who understood immediately and offered to talk to Lucas.
Overwhelmed, I sat down and cried. This was supposed to be a joyful day, yet here we were, with him angry at me for no valid reason. I decided it was best to pack up and leave. Lucas continued to scowl at me, but I managed to keep my composure. I longed to scream at him, to unleash my frustration, but I held back. Not engaging felt like a small victory.
On the way home, he was silent, perhaps reflecting on his actions. Honestly, I didn’t care—I was just grateful for the peace. Once we arrived home, he approached me, apologizing, saying, “I’m sorry, Mom. I love you.”
You might think that’s sweet, but it doesn’t erase the daily disrespect I face from him. It’s infuriating how he saves all his anger for me. Lucas is a good kid—smart, funny, and kind—but our relationship feels strained, and I worry it will continue to worsen as he navigates his teenage years.
I’ve discussed his behavior with our doctor, considering other diagnoses, but she reassures me that he’s not bipolar or manic-depressive. We’re just in a rough patch that we need to work through. We’ve attended counseling together, but he often dismisses the advice given, claiming it’s nonsense.
I feel like I’m failing him as a mother. I want more for both of us; I want him to feel loved and appreciated. I tell him every day that I love him, but when he’s upset, it feels like that love disappears.
At this point, I think I need a break—a few days away to recharge. I don’t think I need to explain my absence to Lucas, but perhaps if I’m gone, he will realize everything I do for him. I can’t give up; I owe it to him. I nursed him, taught him how to walk and talk, helped with homework, and tied his shoes. I want to see that bright light in him return, but right now, I’m unsure how to achieve that. A couple of days at a hotel might give me the clarity I need.
If you’re one to pray, I’d appreciate a quick prayer. If you send good vibes, I could use those too. I’m running low on strength and need all the support I can get.
For more information on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource from the CDC. If you’re interested in learning about home insemination kits, you might also find this post helpful.
Summary:
In this candid reflection, a mother grapples with the emotional turmoil of parenting a son with severe behavioral issues. After a challenging day at a waterpark that spiraled into conflict, she contemplates the need for a break to regain her strength. Despite the love she feels for her son, the daily disrespect and emotional strain weigh heavily on her. She expresses a desire for both of them to find peace and a way to reconnect.