Residential Parenting Blues

My son entered residential just after Christmas at age nine. For two years prior he was daily making any semblance of normalcy at home impossible. ¬†We were living in a constant state of chaos and crisis, often cycling our son through psychiatric hospitalizations and crisis calls. All safety measures we attempted were viewed by my son as challenges which he paid no heed to. We had no means of keeping him, our pets, our home, our other children, or ourselves safe. Creative means of homicide was the daily driving force in his mind. Continue reading “Residential Parenting Blues”