|Photo credit: Falk Lademann|
So there are bad memories everywhere. I see Halloween decorations on Facebook (or articles about last minute costumes, which btw internets, it's not the last minute when there are two weeks to go) and I'm reminded of her atrocious behavior last Halloween. Which set off the sequence of events that led to her hospitalization and removal from our home and which I can't tell you about no matter how much sharing publicly might help my own healing.
Or someone mentions the impending anniversary of Superstorm Sandy and instead of thinking of the overwhelming destruction faced by my extended family, I think of how The Kid acted out after too much storm-imposed pleasant family togetherness. Which would've prompted a 911 call on any other day, but when the city is in a state of emergency, you hesitate to bother the cops for a little ol' EDP. That's emotionally disturbed person to you civilians.
I don't expect to have flashbacks every Halloween for the rest of my life. I'm hoping that this is the last of it. One last agonizing month and then I can move on. Because with time and therapy, I've come to realize and accept that this wasn't my fault, our support system was an unsupportive as they could be, and The Kid never should've been put in this position.
But knowing this hasn't completely convinced me that the next kid will be on board with being a member of a family. And knowing this hasn't allowed me to let go of all the hurt feelings and frustration and anger.
There are all sorts of rituals of dealing with the grief of miscarriage, stillbirths and deceased children. But what is there for disrupted pre-adoptive placements? I don't want any sort of relationship with The Kid in the future. Her behavior one year ago made it so that I don't miss her. The disruption has been the best for all of us.
So am I grieving an abstraction? Grieving what I could have had? What I should have had by now, and would have if not for this fiasco? Am I grieving for something I'm going to have with another kid in the next year or so? Or is that I can't bring myself to believe that it'll happen?
I keep a five-year journal, and I look back and see last's years entries and the hopeful ones are the worst. At one point, I wrote that I think we've hit a turning point with The Kid. And the next day. The next fucking day, her behavior hit a new low point.
When you come out of a situation that was doomed from the start, how can you find hope to try again?
And so I went through a patch of massive sadness. And now I'm in a patch of massive Hulk-smash anger. With a side of the flu, so that's festive. Should be interesting to see what emotions I bathe in next week.
November has got to be better.