Saturday, February 18, 2017

The BIG Fight

You skipped class again on Friday. I didn't know about it until later. You told me you felt ill, that you were going to throw up. I told you I was sorry. A little later you said you had actually thrown up and I told you to go the nurse. You didn't respond.

Later that afternoon, you're older sister brought you to my office so that the three of us could go to your doctor appointment. You receive a prescription for Prozac.

This is after meeting with your school counselor, meeting with your therapist, telling all of your teachers, your coaches and anyone else who would listen, about your problems. I pulled together an army to help you.

But still, you lie.

I was angry when I learned you'd skipped school. I had made a fool of myself telling you how proud I was of you for staying in every class. All you said was that it was hard.

I emailed your counselor and your 2nd period teacher to find out why you had been allowed to leave class, when you are on the "no pass list" at school. Your teacher responded with a different story. A story that did not involve your being ill, but your desire to attend a protest on campus.

I confronted you. You lied some more. I yelled at you and told you to stop fucking lying. I grabbed a stick and pointed it at you, telling you to stop lying. I threw the stick behind me. I yelled a lot.

We went into your room, you said you didn't want to live here anymore. I told you I wouldn't stop you and started stuffing your clothes into a garbage bag. I told you there were two choices. You live here, you go to school, every class, every day, you play lacrosse, you graduate or you leave.

I said we've been bending over backwards, talking to school counselors, therapists, teachers...I said we'd do anything ANYTHING for you but you had to give us something in return.

You said you would work with me, but that I was going to hit you with that stick.

I have never, ever, ever, ever hit you. I would never, ever, ever, ever hit you.

I said it was enough and told you to give me your phone. You said it was your phone. I said, I pay the bill. You said you needed to call someone so you had a place to stay. I told you to put your shoes on and get out.

Before you left I told you that when you were ready to talk to call me.

Afterwards, I sent you a text to make sure to come and get your Prozac. I didn't want you to miss a dose. You came back, I gave you the meds and asked if there is something else you needed. You said your phone charger. I gave that to you as well.

I sent you another text, reminding you that when you were ready to talk, to let me know.

Frankly, I'm not holding my breath.

You lied. Over and over and over. To my face, to your teachers to everyone.

I'm tired of it. I'm tired of you making a fool of me. I told you how much we wanted you to succeed. How we paid for your therapist, your doctor. How we negotiated curfews and sleepovers. We were totally willing to give you as much freedom as you could handle....if you would go to school and do the work.

None of this matters. You want what you want. Chris told me that what you wanted, was for me to tell you to leave. Well, you got what you wanted.

And now you're gone.

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