Okay, I’ve been practicing a self-preservation form of self-deception on here lately it seems.
I’ve been telling myself that the major depressions that I’ve had in December were due to a hatred of the “holidays”. True enough. But, it’s not about what the holidays are. It’s about what the holidays do: force you to spend time with your family 24/7. That’s a problem, being with my family means exposing myself to trauma on a daily basis. That’s depressing.
The trauma of realizing that my wife of 25 years and I have virtually nothing in common and that there’s no chance of fixing that, for one. But that's for another day.
The trauma of our children’s awful and dangerous behavior for another.
I know that everyone has problems with their kids. I know that. I’m not trying to whine or be special. But really, our two boys seem to have a higher level of insanity than most people, hopefully, ever experience and no one sees that side of them but Mrs. SCM and I. We keep it contained in the house. The House of Trauma.
The House of Trauma – a Play in Three Acts:
Scene: interior of a house in the early morning.
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Teen (15 years old), after a two-day binge of house-destroying and parent-defying insanity, wakes up early and begins playing a video game on the family computer in the kitchen.
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Junior (9 years old), after a relatively quiet week, wakes up cranky and feisty and pulls up a chair unnervingly close to Teen.
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Dad, already up and quietly reading on the couch.
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Mom, waking and prepping in the bathroom.
Teen: “Dad, would you tell Junior to get away from me. He’s bothering me.”
Dad: “Junior, get away from Teen and stop bothering him, like you don’t want to be bothered when you’re playing.”
Junior: “Shut up, Dad.”
Dad: “Junior, get up out of your chair and walk away right now.”
Junior: “I said shut up, bitch.”
Dad: “Junior, you cannot talk to your parents that way. You are harming our family with your behavior. Stop it. Get up now and go back to your room”.
Junior (loudly and hysterical): “You stop it, Dad. You’re the one harming our family. Everytime you open your mouth you cause trouble. You stop it. Why don’t you leave you bitch.”
Action: Teen and Junior start aggressively punching each other, with intent to harm.
Dad (bellowing): “GET AWAY FROM EACH OTHER, NOW!!!!!!”
Mom (entering the kitchen hurriedly from the bathroom): “I’m coming, I’m coming! What is going on in here.”
Dad: “Junior is acting up and needs to leave the room now.”
Junior: “You’re acting up, Dad. You need to stop it.”
Action: Junior begins throwing objects at Dad. A shoe. A pencil. A plate. Dad restrains himself, knowing from past experience that if he even touches Junior to remove him to his room it will escalate into an hour-long fit of screaming “You’r eabusing me!” Mom steps between Junior and Dad.
Mom: “Junior, you stop this now! Get on the time out chair.”
Dad (getting in Junior’s face): “You heard her. Close your mouth and get over on that chair.”
Mom (turning on Dad): “WOULD EVERYONE PLEASE JUST STOP?”
Action: Junior screams at mom “Asshole!” and starts physically assaulting her.
Mom: “Stop it now!”
Action: Mom sits on Junior and puts him in a physical restraint taught to us by DCFS during our Foster Parent training. Junior thrashes in her grasp, trying to kick and bite her. Dad keeps hands-off.
Junior: “Let me go or I will kill you, you fucking bitch!”
Dad: “You say that again and I will call the police”
Junior: “I’ll kill you too Dad, you bitch asshole.”
Action: Mom restrains Junior for 30 minutes, enduring invective and assault until Junior finally wears out and stops.
Mom: “Now, get on the time-out chair.”
Dad: “I want him out of this house for the day. He can’t win and be rewarded for this behavior.”
Mom: “How is he being rewarded? He’s going to time-out, and he won’t get on the computer.”
Dad: “He leaves the house or I leave the house.”
Mom: “How does running away make any sense?”
Act IIAction: Dad takes Teen and leaves the house for hours. Hours. Almost checks into a hotel, but instead wanders around town with his phone off.
Dad eventually arrives back home.
Junior meets Dad at the door with a long apology note and a remorseful sad look on his face.
Dad: “I don’t care. Get away from me.”
Action: Dad retreats to the basement for the rest of the day, speaking to no one.
Act III??????????????????????? What new trauma awaits today?
