Last night Dustin ran out of the house.
He was sitting on the couch with me while we prepared to watch Big Brother (I'm super addicted, even pay for the live feeds) I told him to go get his pills. He did. I proceeded to get his pill out and he ran toward the door. I said, "Dustin! I am not chasing you and I will not call the police again. If you walk out the door, you will be all alone."
Bad? Maybe. I have had enough. I am also getting concerned that if I continue to call the police and he is found hiding next door in the garage or in an abandoned house right nest to us, they will no longer think this is a big deal. I am afraid that if I continue to call when he runs out that when something really big happens they will simply take their sweet time and think we are crying wolf once again. (I have to wonder if this could have been the issue when the car hit the neighbors house and they thought it was no big deal. Do they track phone numbers or addresses?)
So he ran. Robert was gone, but thankfully when I called him he was on his way home. I kept getting glimpses of him running around the block. He was staying close. When it had been close to an hour and it was quite dark, I decided to go outside and call for him. At one point he came around a neighbors house and saw me and took off again. I was so angry at this point I could spit.
We have a pizza place that is literally in our back yard and one of the guys was standing out back. I asked him if he saw a boy and he said he did, he was hiding near the neighbor's garage and kept darting out. He was concerned someone would pull into the parking lot and hit him. As he was talking to me, the other employee came outside. He is a registered sex offender that I keep an eye on. That is when I began to cry. I lost it, right there in the parking lot.
That little shit (sorry, I have no patience for this anymore) heard me crying and still hid. The neighbor came home and asked if I checked his garage. I said I did and that I even went inside and checked the closets he uses for storage. He asked if I checked the back. I had no idea there was little cubbie-hole in the back, and lo-and-behold he was there, stuffed in a 2 foot space with gasoline and paint thinner surrounding him.
When I flung open the door he said, "Man! You scared the pants off me! I am really dizzy!" (the small space reaked of chemicals and I'd bet $50 he was dizzy!) In his world, the game was over and all was well.
Not so much for me. I think I am beginning to get Post Traumatic Stress Disorder with his running away. I also think I am shutting down. I won't lie and say that I didn't think just briefly about what it would be like to put him in an institution somewhere due to the running. It is getting ridiculous. It is draining on us as parents and it is scary for the littles. It is wreaking havoc in our neighborhood and for yet another reason we are being dubbed as "those people".
Is it ever gonna change? Probably not. Over at The Missing Piece today the author was talking about her child lying. I hate to be a "Debbie-downer" but if that child has FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) you betch 'yer sweet ass that child will continue to lie. It is miss-wiring. She talked about lying over things that were not even asked of her and thngs that really didn't make a difference. Yep. Gotcha. Mine too. Chalk it up to failure to equate cause and effect, or grasp consequences, due to prenatal alcohol exposure. (Truthfully I don't even remember if her child has been diagnosed with FAS, so maybe I am just talking out my ear) Am I saying you don't combat the lying. Nope. I am saying you try "everything and a bag of nickels" to try to get it through the damaged brain that lying is not only unacceptable but wrong HOPING BEYOND HOPE that something clicks in their heads. But, you realistically understand this may be something that is beyond their grasp. This is something that may hang on forever. Maybe that is where we are with the running. I can do everything in my ability right and it still may never click that runnign away is wrong. There may be nothing I can do to change it, but I will still damn-well try, what choice do I have?
What makes me sad is last night, if I am honest with myself, I would've liked to just not have tried. I would've liked to lock the door and say, "To hell with him, he'll come back". The fact that those thougths crossed me mind makes me sick to my stomach. (You need to remember that while he looks 14 and may seem to the normal eye like a typical kid, he is really a 3 year old in that body, so just forgetting it and letting him run would be crazy talk!)
Memories on a wall (and in a phone)
10 hours ago