Not easy being a parent is it. I’ve got a 17 year old, I chat with the parent’s of his mates too. Most admit their kids are driving them nuts with their mood s and behaviour, one sends her son to a psychologist.
I’m a teacher so I’m supposed to be trained to deal with them. Frankly it doesn’t help being trained to manage the unmanageable. It provides consolation in knowing you’re not alone in the chaos though.
We as parents build our lives around our kids, mentally and physically. I closed the business to have time, bought a house with a nice garden near nice schools, planned weekends and holidays around sports and activities, taught him everything I could. And right now I’m getting most of it thrown back in my face.
It’s quite normal I’m told, being treated like dirt, talked down to, lied to, picking up the pieces after the latest excesses, dealing with the anger when anything goes wrong (or right). “He’s the young wolf asserting his authority and will kill you, the pack leader, and take over”, says a doctor friend. Yet some days he’s delightful, loving, charming enthusiastic.
After a series of bad days I crack, fight back, and he’s like a scolded six year old. Because despite the front he’s still a vulnerable kid trying to find his way in a frightening world.
On the drink and drugs front, one confrontation ended with him in an arm lock having his head banged against the bathroom mirror as I made a futile attempt to find out who the dealer was. A really good move as I realised he still has some affection for me in that he’s stronger than me and could have reduced me to pulp. He also realised that my threats to sort the dealer were plausible and having a father in court for doing so wouldn’t be good for his street cred or home life. It gave him the excuse he needed to distance himself from the druggies – I think, I hope. Anyhow some of his mates now give me a very wide berth.
On the suicidal tendencies front; a fine young man in my triathlon killed himself, he seemed fine – a likeable affable young man with everything going for him, I’ve never seen his parents since. My son is an emotional yo-yo, was I really like that at his age? In the middle of an recent shouting match with junior:
“I’m gonna kill myself”
“Well find a really tall building then because I don’t want to push you around in a wheel chair… .”
It was the first thing that entered my head when I read your opening post so it’s taken me two days to write a reply beyond “I’m so sorry to hear that and hope you pull through, both of you”.
I hope my post helps rather than makes you feel worse. I’ve taken a risk, life’s a risk. Have a look through Sadexpunk’s posting history, he’s one of the few on here that’s candid about dealing with children as they become adult.