(‘Sorry Daddy for hurting you, I hope you get better.’)
(‘Dear Mummy, I am sorry I hurt your lovely husband.’)
When your mantlepiece is routinely filled with cards like these, something is really not right. These are this week’s, written by Charlotte, age six, after she kicked Pete so hard in the stomach that it left him unable to move, even to stand up, for several hours.
All he’d done was to tell her it was bedtime.
Our children saw a lot of domestic violence in the birth family home – Joanna for nearly 3 years, Charlotte for 18 months. It’s not their fault they learned to deal with strong emotions by resorting to force. They didn’t have the opportunity to learn anything different.
They had six months of play therapy in the first half of this year, whereupon the therapist decided it wasn’t helping either of them (we knew this before it started, but post-adoption support couldn’t/wouldn’t give us any other kind of therapy). Joanna is now having weekly CBT sessions, which is a definite step in the right direction, but still isn’t the intensive thrice-weekly psychiatric intervention that we and the current therapist agree she needs.
Charlotte is currently not receiving any help at all, though she is ‘in the system’ awaiting an OT, having had an assessment. She has ‘attachment-related sensory-seeking’ issues, which isn’t quite an SPD diagnosis, as far as I can tell (put me right if you know better), but in practice means she chews a lot of things (toys, clothes, bedding, paper, toilet roll, blutac…), will have a meltdown if there’s a tomato or too many salad leaves on her plate, and is very wary of trying new foods.
Both have caused us a number of injuries in the time they’ve been with us. In week one of placement, Joanna bit me on the tummy, drawing blood even through my jeans. More recently, during our two-week holiday, she bit Pete, pushed Charlotte into a metal grating that caused a graze up her arm, and scratched my leg with a fingernail while I was restraining her during a meltdown.
Pete tends to get the brunt of it – he has been kicked while driving several times, once in the head. I mainly get scratched and bitten rather than kicked.
At school, Joanna is worse. She is violent to staff there at least once a week, often two or three times. Teachers have been bitten, kicked, scratched, hit, had their hair pulled, had things thrown at them, and had drinks poured on them. Whenever the work is a tiny bit challenging (ie she doesn’t know the answer the instant she sees the question), she finds it too threatening and the fight/flight response kicks in.
Charlotte, on the other hand, is fine at school. She’s behind academically, we think mainly because she’s emotionally immature and therefore not ready to learn. But she is never violent there. This is both good news (for obvious reasons) and bad news (because no-one else sees the problem and it’s therefore much harder to get help for her).
So what do we do? We ask for help All The Time. I update post-adoption support every time we have a major incident, so it is all logged on our files. We have made three applications to CAMHS – one each via school, post-adoption support and the GP, all of which were turned down or didn’t even get off the starting blocks. The fourth application (via our excellent GP) has gone in this week, and the fifth is going via school at the start of term. If I need to, I will keep on going at least until we hit double figures. What’s the alternative?
Living with two angry and violent children is hard. Very hard. It’s exhausting, emotionally and physically. But if we don’t continue to pester people to help them, we’ll eventually have two violent teenagers, and to be honest, I think that might well end in a disruption. We’re not quite at breaking point yet, thankfully, but I can see that it could easily happen. We love these girls, and we intend to honour our commitment to them with everything we have, but there may come a point where it is Just Not Safe for them to live here anymore. That prospect feels horrible. I feel guilty typing it out. But there it is.
The right sort of help is a long time coming, though. I’m not entirely sure what it will look like when it arrives, but I’m hoping it’s going to involve the girls shouting at a therapist occasionally and getting things properly dealt with.
It’s going to be a long haul.