He's back now, but it was pretty ugly. He ran away. I found him. He declined to come home. Then he came home, but just to get something. He was going right back out. I told him that wasn't going to happen and he flipped out. I had our case worker on the phone and Max threatened to smash my face with a chair he was brandishing at me. Kept making dashes for the door, enjoying the chase thing. We ended up in his room with me sitting at the door and him throwing stuff at me - blankets and trading cards, but then threatening me with his football (real - not Nerf). I removed the football and myself and parked myself outside his window because that's how he left last time - two weeks ago today.
He attempted to come out the window, but rather half-heartedly. In fact, most of what he did was half-hearted. He ran away to our near-by park - exactly where I expected him to go. He never really left again when I told him to stay. He didn't actually attack me with any of the heavy items he threatened. So, yeah. I could take that as a good thing.
Anthony came home and the situation immediately de-escalated.
I know that some people can handle kids with attachment issues, but I have to admit that I'm just not one of them. I don't feel comfortable with the issues Max is presenting. I don't feel comfortable with how these issues are affecting my family and me. I don't want to have to take an anti-depressant just to be able to muddle through an unhappy life. I am done. Yes. Done. I know. Yes, we'll be judged for not sticking by him. When we said we'd adopt him, we were making a life time commitment. It's awful that we said it would be forever and it won't be. It'll make things that much harder for his next family.
But. I feel like we'd be choosing him over our family's mental health and possible physical health. Regardless of what his therapist says, a lot of kids don't get better when they have attachment issues. I've been doing a lot of reading. I know I won't be a happy person to have to limp along like this. It's not the family I want for Davan. Or me. Or Anthony. Or Max, for that matter. I don't think he'll get better in a family where he's not liked. And the truth is, I don't like him and really haven't sense he moved in, other than a few spots here and there.
He's not out the door tomorrow. For one, that would be cruel, as it's his birthday. However, we will start the ball rolling. We might foster him until an adoptive family can be found. Maybe he'll move to a therapeutic foster home. Maybe it'll be decided that he should just go to a regular foster family for a while. Maybe he'll blow out of here and have to go to an emergency placement. I don't know. But, I do know that this will not be his growing up home.
I feel mostly relief to be finally moving in that direction. However, I also have a ball of worry about telling him. I'm, frankly, not happy about facing his therapist with this choice. She'll be very disappointed. I worry that he'll bounce around foster care until he ages out. But, I won't let him take us with him. And that's that.