The Boy has been rearing his ugly head lately. He has been mouthy (read that screaming), and raging against...well, me.
Oh, he loves me to death. How do I know that? Maybe because he tried to choke me the other day when I told him to get off the computer.
The woman who almost died giving birth to him.
The woman who has fought tooth and nail (and has the emotional scars to prove it) to get him the services he so desperately needs.
The woman who drives him to all his appointments, and has spent countless hours visiting him in locked wards.
The woman who guards the refrigerator, washes his clothes and prepares his meals.
The woman who loves him more than anyone in this world.
The choking attempt did not hurt me. It made me pissed. It made me so pissed that I promptly knocked 180 pounds of snarling surliness to the floor and pinned his arms over his head. Said through my clenched teeth that he will NEVER do THAT AGAIN. (Even though I know he will make other attempts).
Today's excitement was due to a dead battery (or a faulty alternator) - whatever; the car would not start. We were all ready to go to his therapy appointment, then afterwards, to the library, one of his favorite places on this planet.
No choking today. As I left a message for his therapist, he stood in the kitchen and raged and fumed and railed.
He screamed that it's MY FAULT that the car would not start. Yeah, like I opened the hood in the middle of the night and befouled the engine. Yeah, I would do that.
A while ago (after we purchased a new battery for the car), I suggested (to The Mister) that we buy jumper cables. I've always had jumper cables in any car I've owned previously. In fact, the last set of cables remained in the car as it was being towed away to some charity. The Mister said that I didn't need jumper cables. Huh.
The Boy is now in his room...just like after every one of his outbursts. I get fifteen minutes to
School starts in ten days...it can't come soon enough for me.