I hate Mondays. Not saying anything that you've never heard before, I'm sure. But this Monday especially? Was slam back into reality. I feel that we are preparing for the biggest hurdle yet (and we've had our share of biggies, believe me), and I hate that this is happening. I hate that Jake is going through this, that he has to keep going through this.
We go later in the week so he can be formally interviewed, with recordings, because the report I filed has been accepted and is being investigated. If he were to return to school, this teacher is not allowed to be with him unsupervised at any time. He is not returning- there's been too much damage done now, and he is too afraid. A caseworker from CS came to the house today, to talk with him, and he was too scared to share anything with her. Because his teacher would hurt him. His words. I got him to talk about it again with me, before she came, to ease him into talking freely about it. When he realized he would have to talk about it with someone else, he panicked. He was crying, running, trying to hide. He didn't want to tell, because (insert name here) will be bad to him, she's bad to him. He was in full melt down mode for almost half an hour.
I am heartsick. This could explain his anxiety of late, the whining and crying that he couldn't explain. And I've been sending him into that situation, daily. He's confused, afraid, worried... he wants to go to school. He doesn't want to leave the house. He wants his friends. He does not want to see her. He thinks it is his fault, that he did something wrong and is being punished. And making him understand is almost impossible.
I want this woman in the worst way, and I hate feeling like that. I hate this boiling anger that I'm carrying inside of me now. I am almost sick with the rage that I have- but that's normal, considering what Jake's going through and been through. I want to know why, though, and I doubt that's an answer we'll get. I think it's because of a lot of things- most importantly being the fact that I didn't drop it when push came to shove. How could I though? He's my child. And when it comes to my kids? I will never drop it, whatever "it" happens to be at the moment.
The thought of all of it makes me physically ill. I feel like I enabled someone to mistreat him, to lie on him, to bully him, to scare him. To possibly have hurt him. Scar him. And most of all, confuse him. Because he doesn't get it. He sees a person of authority shouting at him, and then he isn't back in school. He figures it's his fault. And that alone- some of the things he has said- makes me wonder exactly what goes on in there. Special needs kids are easy victims- they trust and believe people very easily. Or aren't believed when they speak up. Think about it- if it comes down to he said/she said, you have a teacher who is trained to work with special needs.... and an autistic, bi-polar six year old. How easy would it be to brush off his stories as fantasy? As imagination? And those are words this teacher has used on every occasion I've been around her- about every kid she's dealing with. Play acting, imaginative, story tellers, little actors, liars... as if they are totally unbelievable. Maybe she counts on those seeds she plants. I'm willing to bet that she does.
And I'm not saying he hasn't had some fantastic tales- but those are very obvious. And like I've said before- when he is lying, you can tell. He skips from moment to moment, story to story, and simply cannot remember what he's said or not said. When he tells you something over and over again? He's telling you the truth. He wouldn't remember otherwise.
I want this to go away. For him. For all of us, to get back into some normalcy, some routine. But I am willing to risk every piece of "normal" to prove that I will never stop, when it comes to my children. I will continue to fight for him, any of them, every second of every day, until their world is right again.
Because that fear in his eyes? Kills me. It sickens me, angers me, tears at my heart in a way that nothing ever has before. His confusion, his worry, his behavior changes? Are keeping me moving, searching, learning every angle on this sort of situation. I'm looking into every possible step that can be taken to make sure this never, ever happens again. To him, or to anyone else.
Because I can guarantee two things. Jake is not the first kid she's done this to- there's just no way. He will, however, be the last. I'm going to make sure of that.