Not a Fan of Reality...

Last night we came home and D was acting absolutely out of her mind. Mackistani was out on the back porch, talking on the phone with a friend. D of course made a beeline for the back porch. So then he moved to the bathroom, trying to avoid D.

I finally got D calmed down and she went to bed. I was pretty upset; it was a full-blown rage and just absolutely exhausting. I changed into my nightgown, grabbed my journal, and started writing. This is part of my process. It helps me get my thoughts clear and to get all the junk out of my head.

Soon I hear the doorknob jiggling. Mr. Hand-Eye Coordination couldn't figure out how to pop the lock on the bedroom door with the stick I'd provided. It is a simple lock, just meant to provide the leanest of privacy…ie to let people know 'hey don't come in here' and to fool children into thinking they can't get in a room, when in fact they could easily pop the lock had they the inkwell to a ballpoint pen to stick in the lock. I finally had to let him in. I really didn't want to be around anybody. I needed to get some crying done so I could feel better.

Crying is like a pressure valve for me. It is hard to be spat on and to have your clothes ruined by the drain cleaner that your child splashed on you. It is even harder when you can't restrain the child because you're not strong enough and then to have the child ask if they put the drain cleaner in your mouth, would you die? That's not a big deal of a question from a normal child. You don't fear that your normal child will actually think that trying to kill you one day. But when you have a RAD child, you've read about RADs growing up with all kinds of disorders and growing up without a conscience. It's just scarier. Everything takes on a whole new meaning.

So the Mackistani comes in. We'll just call him Boyfriend. He sits down and is talking to me, and he, without any prompting from me, begins to explain why he was trying to get away from D during her rage. I thought it was just because, well, anyone would. And he probably wanted privacy, which he surely can have. But what comes out of his mouth is entirely not what I expected.

"My friends don't know I'm staying with you. I have always lived on my own and so I am not telling them I'm staying with you. It's a class thing. It's my culture. You might not understand."

I confess, I intellectually understood but not emotionally. And then it continues, that this was meant to be temporary and he might move out next month. Unless I want him to stay. Which I do, but not if that is not what he wants. But then it continues some more.

So we have this very realistic talk, that he needs to evaluate whether he can live with D permanently. And whether my family drama is going to be something he can tolerate.

For my part, I express that I'm not part of their drama in a material sense. And I express that if he doesn't want to commit, then it might be a good idea to express a consistent idea. Instead of calling my dad his future father-in-law one day and then telling me he's moving out the next day.

Can I be honest here and just say it is awfully hard to trust someone who is so inconsistent? How do I know what he's going to be doing on this week long trip to Florida?

I don't understand, everything seemed to be going so well and we were happy…am I just being used? I know there IS an understanding of this in my head somewhere…but I can't seem to access it right now.

This morning, he was his usual charming, loving self, connected to me, interested in me, and in love with me. Should I really even trust someone who is this inconsistent?

I'm not going to break up with him. I love him. I just need to relax and let it be what it's going to be, and stop trying to make it something else, something bigger than what it is.

But, you know, combined with all D's stuff, the extremely stressful week that I've had, and everything else, I have just had enough this week. I wish I could escape.