Hosea's log, star date November 11, 2006.
Location: home ... the house we sold last summer.
Boyfriend 4 is living with us. Son 1 is ten years old. Son 2 is eight.
It is a full year – no, it's more than thirteen months – before I even start this blog. Even back then, life was sometimes far too exciting and far too tough.
This account will be pretty close to what I wrote down at the time, with only minor alterations for clarity.
This evening at dinner, Wife exploded at the boys in a potentially violent rage like the one she was in the night she was arrested. [Gosh, that's yet another story I've been meaning to post and never have!] What led up to it? I don't know – she didn't take her lunchtime meds until 6pm, and we'd been talking about money (which always agitates her), and Son 1 was being difficult today because he spent last night at a sleepover with a couple of friends ... so he didn't do all his chores and he was cranky and out of sorts because he stayed up way too late last night. But none of these things should be enough by itself – it's just that her disease is getting worse.
Anyway, she and I came out (from talking about money) after Boyfriend 4 and the boys had started eating already. And Son 1 wasn't eating any of his corn chowder, which Wife had spent "all afternoon" making. This was "all afternoon" a week or so ago – and even so she'd invested way too much anxiety in it and started it way too late. But it was still a week or so ago. Anyway, she went on to say that when she was Son1's age she was glad to have any food on the table at all, and her mother would have beaten her bloody for wasting food, and ... and ... and ...!
Boyfriend 4 and I got her to go back to the bedroom, and after a couple minutes I left her with Boyfriend 4 to go check on the boys. They were both crying heavily. I sat down on a chair next to Son 1, who had been the target of her fury (and she could still be heard declaiming against him in the next room), and I pulled him onto my lap. But Son 2 was crying even harder than Son 1, so I called him over to my lap too. I hugged them both close, and asked Son 1 to put an arm around Son 2 – partly for balance on my lap, and partly to comfort Son 2 who was sobbing profoundly. And I talked to them. I explained that when Mommy's depression is bad, it means that her emotions aren't right – and so when she yells at them in this kind of way, it's not because they are bad and they mustn't take it personally. I explained this a couple of times and asked if they understood. They both nodded feebly through the tears. Then I asked if this was something they already knew before I told them ... and they both shook their heads No. So it's a damned good thing I told them. Maybe this will inoculate them against Wife's rages having the same effect on them that Wife's mother's rages had on Wife. Or maybe not, but at least they needed to know. For some time I've been hoping that this is something they had figured out on their own, but I guess not.
After a while I asked them if there was somewhere they wanted to go that they would feel safer. Son 1 stammered "room" almost inaudibly, and Son 2 chimed in, "Anywhere with a door we can close so no-one can hurt us." So we went into their room. There (after closing the door) we cuddled on the floor, with Son 1's big blanket around us. Son 1 explained that it was really scary when Mommy was like that. And Son 2 said something that really struck me, which is the reason I wrote all this down. [In other words, without this next point I would have let it slide into oblivion ... presumably because it wasn't extraordinary enough to record otherwise. It amazes me to look back and realize that I didn't record the tantrum for its own sake. I must have taken them too much for granted. Sorry, I'll go on.] Anyway, Son 2 told Son 1, "It's way scarier for me than for you because I know what this can lead to!" And then he told Son 1 about the night Wife got arrested, when she was smashing plates on the kitchen floor and "throwing pots and pans." He explained that he had been awakened by the noise and had come out to see what was going on ... and he had seen Wife do all this destruction. (And in fact I remember that he had come out afterwards, as I was cleaning up and when the social worker came to check in with me.) Then Son 2 told Son 1, "You're lucky you're a sound sleeper, because you slept through it. But I saw!" And this explains why he was so much more upset than Son 1, at whom the rage was ostensibly aimed. (Although don't get me wrong – Son 1 was really, really upset too.)
Finally I got them to settle down. They agreed to go brush their teeth and go straight to bed, and they both slept together in Son 1's bunk (the upper bunk).I told them a funny story, about a cat we had owned before they were born and how she had befriended a rabbit during a couple months that we were rabbit-sitting for a friend. Then I turned their light low but kept it a little on, and closed the door. Son 2 asked that it be open because he doesn't like a closed door when he sleeps. But I said I didn't know if everything was settled yet, and I'd open the door later when all was OK. And they slept.
When I got back to Wife, Boyfriend 4 had calmed her (thank God for Boyfriend 4!) and she had taken the rest of her meds. I took over while Boyfriend 4 cleared the table and emptied his cat box. (When he came to live with us, he brought his cats who joined the house along with ours. His three shared one box, while our two shared another.) I talked with her and held her until she fell asleep, reassuring her that we all love her. She talked a lot in terms of the kids retracting their love, or at any rate never trusting her again. I dismissed the question of trust and assured her (truly) that the boys still love her. As for trust ... now that I stop to think about it, I am even more amazed at Son 2's willingness to throw his arms around Wife and kiss her to cheer her up when she is depressed – because obviously he has not forgotten the night she came fully unglued. So what does it mean, that he can show so much love and affection for a mommy whom he knows capable of such destruction? I know he loves her, but how does he reconcile that with what he has seen?
This child – Son 2 – is going to grow a very deep soul somewhere along the line ....
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