Yes folks, I made it to almost 40 without a major heartbreak being intentionally caused by someone I love. And, if I am honest, I can't really be sure that it IS intentional.
But I digress. Mr14 has been shocking of late, violent, withdrawn at times and abusive a LOT of the time. We know what was behind it, we have been trying for months to get a doctor to listen, so we could get a diagnosis. In the past 5 days (including the weekend) I have had 3 phone consults, and 2 face-to-faces with different doctors. All agree. He is suffering from depression, anxiety and PTSD. This I already knew.
What I didn't know, and neither did The Mister, is that we can't do anything about it. Treatment is optional. He has to want to go, or take the pills. We can't even get him properly assessed without his agreeing, which he refuses to do. He only went to the doctor for a follow-up on his tonsilitis that took 3 lots of antibiotics to kill.
He announced this morning that he is leaving when he turns 15 in 6 weeks time. I was/am devastated. I love my son. But I am not all that sorry at this latest development. The person living in my home, inhabiting my son's body, is not my son. He is a stranger, one who frightens me. I fear for my son. He is in danger from not only the scum who lurk around every corner in this sink hole, but also from the stranger making his decisions, and telling him they are his own.
My heart is breaking at the fact that I am going to have to let him go, physically, at 15. And at the fact that, in a lot of ways, my son has already left. It is killing me. But living like we are, in constant fear of another blow-out, is killing me even more. The stress is causing major physical symptoms, and if I don't do something soon, I will land back in hospital. And this time, I have no reserves of energy or determination to get me through. They were all used a long time ago.
I am sitting here with tears streaming down my face. I am not writing this to ask for sympathy, empathy or any goddamn thing else. I am writing this to help me accept what is going to happen. I am scared beyond belief for my son, but I am more scared of the stranger wearing his skin.