Three years ago, we went through a really rough time with Logan. So rough that we took him to a child psychologist a couple of times because I thought he was emotionally unstable and we needed help dealing with it. He would freak out and throw tantrums over the littlest of issues, and would become completely irrational and unreasonable and physically violent. He would tell us "I want to hurt you" and become physically violent with us and sometimes try to hurt himself. It was terrifying and horribly difficult to live through. And this went on for probably close to 6 months. Without a doubt, this was the most difficult parenting challenge I've ever had to face.
Then we got through it, I chalked it up to a phase that he grew out of, blocked out some of the most horrible encounters from my memory, and moved on. He still had some outbursts, but nothing like he used to have. Until last week. And then again last night.
It all started with a simple mistake in the way he wrote the number 3 on one of his papers from school. When I helpfully corrected him, he became angry and insisted that the way he wrote it was right, and that every other number 3 in the world was wrong. He insisted, despite me and Aidan calmly pointing out other examples throughout the house. He tried to rip up his paper, and when I refused to let him by putting the paper where he couldn't reach it, he launched into a fit of rage.
He kicked me, punched me in my arms, my throat and my head, pinched me, pushed me, screamed at me. All despite my calm, but firm voice (which I'm impressed I was able to mostly maintain) begging and pleading with him to stop, and my insistence that I loved him and wanted to help him get through it. He was relentless and very difficult for me to physically restrain.
At the point where I got punched in the throat and had to pin Logan on the ground to protect myself, I couldn't help but cry, which then really upset Aidan and made him cry. On his birthday, of all days. It was a terrible ordeal that didn't end until Adam got home to talk some sense into him. And then he was fine and we went to Moe's for Aidan's birthday as planned. It's like he's two different people.
Later that night at bedtime, he told me he doesn't like being wrong, and was mad that I told him he was wrong. This is really scary to me, because what if he reacts that way when his teacher tries to help him when he's wrong? How do we prevent that?
I'm literally sitting here crying right now and sick to my stomach with worry, because I can't go through this again. I can't watch as my child screams that I don't love him and he doesn't love me, and he would rather die than do what I want him to do. I can't physically handle his force now that he's bigger. And there's so much more at stake now that he's in public school.
The physical bruises hurt, but the pain in my heart and the fear of what's to come and what this means about the person he's going to become is too much to bear. Where did my sweet Logan go and how can I get him back?