My Broken Children

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This morning the kids and I went to Bailey’s therapist for her weekly cognitive behavior therapy.  Reagan was in a dark place, so I asked if he could also receive some light counseling, just for today, to see if he would not be resistant to it.

He was very resistant, and got increasingly louder and louder. He didn’t want to talk about his father to anyone, and it was “no one’s business”. Everyone “was stupid”. All of these protests aside, I completed his paperwork, and the doc came into the waiting room with her service husky, and took him into her office.  He only went willingly, because he wanted to pet the dog, so I thank God for that beautiful animal.

Reagan has been diagnosed with PTSD.  He is 11 years old. The events leading up to his father’s untimely death, and how Reagan woke up, right next to his father’s body…..how he screamed and worked hard to revive him….it is too much for a child.  It is too much for a grown man or woman.  He needs more help, and I have known this for some time now, and though he has been receiving counseling via the school district, there have been no resources during the summertime.

I am hoping this doctor can continue to Reagan manage his grief in productive manners, and make him feel like his sadness is normal, and that it is okay to cry, and it is okay to miss his father.  I can talk to him about this every single day, for the rest of his life, but I am too close, and he tends to lend a deaf ear in my direction. Reagan needs help.  He feels guilty for not waking up his dad, and for not breathing life back into him.  Bailey needs help.  She is lost and confused, and she doesn’t know what to do with this huge pile of sadness, but to grow increasingly agitated with all of her usual triggers, but struggling even harder now, to come down from them. Our family is in distress, but I am getting help, and that is all that I can do, but to be a constant force of stability.

How does this happen to our CHILDREN?  We lay down our LIFE for them, and they still get wounded. Something like this happens suddenly…..and their entire world is turned upside down. Something like this happens gradually…where they have time to process….but their world still crashes down.  They are defiant, disrespectful, and they push down all of that pain, and walk forward without a scratch, but they are forever broken.  The only relief that you can offer is an embracing hug, and a reassurance that they are loved.  You can’t give them the reassurance that you will never die, because that would be a lie, and what a cruel one it would be, if you died tomorrow, and they had no parents at all.

Bestill my broken heart.  Today has been the death of me.  Ever since Ross passed away in his sleep, I have always said, “as long as my kids are okay, then I am okay”, but they are not okay.

Please pray for my little family.

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