I could never have imagined the hard that we have faced here in St George. The whole experience is still surreal and excrutiating.
Max has been hustling for friends since the first day we arrived. It has been a full time job. He has used every ounce of emotional energy to connect with friends so that he can feel an identity and feel approval. Unfortunately, Max was drawn to the lowest common denominator. Of the 800 kids at the High School, Max found a friend names Joe who would give him the approval he craved, for a cost. Two weeks ago, we were called to the police station where we were told that Max and several friends were being investigated for the sexual assault of a vulnerable young girl. There was an inappropriate video being passed around, a result of clear exposure to hard core pornography. It was especially disconcerting to know that some of the bad things happened here in our home, with us present. We felt violated and betrayed.
Several days later the police arrived to deliver a restraining order, which meant that Max could no longer attend his high school. We immediately hired an attorney and the four of us faced the judge on Thursday afternoon. The stress and burden for Max was beyond overwhelming.
Maxwell has been angry and withdrawn, and it came to a head on Sunday. Max went into a rage that was really scary. He yelled, destroyed property, and punched a hole in the wall. Finally Tony locked him in the garage. He hammered on the door for what seemed like forever, and we had to decide between calling the police and calling the Bishop. Our Bishop is a big man, who is adopted, and he was clearly the inspired choice. He got Max settled down for a little, but the rage returned with a vengeance and he shoved Tony over backward off the barstool. Now Tony was livid. I grabbed him by the shirt, buttons popping off everywhere, and commanded him to the bedroom. Amazingly Tony complied. I followed Max around for a little while and kept repeating in the calmest voice I had, "this isn't how you get what you want." Around 11:00 I told Max I was going to bed, went into the bedroom, and locked the door. He raged his last anger then finally crumpled to the floor and sobbed. I got him into bed and scratched his back for about an hour. I assured him that we would do everything we could to help him and that this experience would be hard, but would not end his life. He said he wanted to end it all, but when I asked if he had a suicide plan, he said he didn't.
On Friday I lay on my bed to read my scriptures and had a clear prompting to get ahold of Robin, Denise Larsen's sister, and director of the StarGuides Wilderness program for the last 30 years. I called to see if I could set up outpatient counseling, but what she said made me stop in my tracks. She said, "You are in over your heads." She went on to explain that we could do outpatient therapy, but it was very likely that Max would continue on the same trajectory. What we needed was a disruption, and a way for him to learn coping skills. She suggested her 100 day program. With no option for school, and motivated by a deep desire to keep Max out of juvenile detention, we decided to proceed with the program.
We were scheduled to take him to his appointment on Monday at 4:30. It was the longest day of my life. I'm so thankful to Betsy for coming to be with me. We couldn't tell him anything, except that he was going for an assessment. We stood in the waiting room briefly and I gave him a quick, weird, sidehug, and that was it. We will not see him for 100 days. Not for Thanksgiving, or Christmas. I haven't cried like that ever. I could feel my heart breaking. I was really thankful that Andrea had insisted that Tony be there. We were able to experience that pain together, then go immediately to the counselor to process the experience. It was powerful to break our cycle of Tony not being present for the hard stuff.
We came home and put the boat and pick up on Craigs list to sell. Finding 40,000 was the other painful part. Heavenly Father has decided to give us a gift in that area. Somehow we have 20,000 dollars that we had earmarked for insurance that appears to be left over. We can't figure out how. We can't even find the record that the money has been paid, but the company insists that they have. This is a miracle, and has brought me a lot of peace and relief.
We will start meeting with the therapist this week. She said Max is confused and doesn't understand why he is there. I don't even know what I would say to him. We need Max to be able to be less dependent on external approval. He can't live life being willing to do "Anything to Fit In" He has to be able to know his identity and form healthy connections with healthy people and especially his family. I know we have a long path ahead of us and that this Wilderness experience won't solve everything, but we need to disrupt something and change his trajectory. The words, "there is no other way" have been the ones most often echoing in my head.
We've been finding solace in the temple and this weekend Jeff, Betsy, Kim and Brad came to the rescue. It was so great to play, and laugh and enjoy being with them. The caliber of people God has surrounded us with is one of our greatest blessings. Our parents have been a tremendous support and we have felt buoyed up by evidences of God's hand every day. Eliza spent the weekend with Callie and Amy and Jake, another healing place.
I miss Max. I feel gypped of three months of being his Mom. I love him so much.
I've had a week now to explore regret, remorse, anger, fear, and relief. I am overwhelmed thinking about how we should have done this for Wilson. I know we have to do something to prevent Max from inflicting damage on Marcos. It is such a tremendous mishmash of emotions. I want so badly for this experience to bring me closer to the Savior, but I can't believe how grief dulls the ability to feel the spirit. I feel like I'm just going through the emotions, except at the temple, where I feel relief.
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