Happy Valenties Day PTSD Style

It was simple... or so it seemed.  One child was unkind to another.  There was a consequence issued, a privilege lost.  No anger, no shame, just no movie time, because of a poor choice. 

The reaction was disproporte, to say the least. 

First, and swiftly, came the rage.
Like a wolf being penned against his will. 
Howling, thrashing, throwing, kicking. 
The intent to hurt anyone who dared come near.
physicaly, emotionaly...

The energy of the rage is too intense to last long, so the tone changed to sorrowful cries.  Not those of an 6 year old, but of an infant.  In sound, tone, desperation and primal. 

We got home, out of the car, the cries continued. 

We are in the rocking chair, one hour, two hours.  The cries become sobs. To talk is pointless.  He is not really there.  His eyes are barely open, but they look through me, not at me.  Words mean nothing to him in this stage.  He has gone back to a time where he did not hear, and was not spoken to.

We rock.  I kiss his head, I pray for him to find peace, I feel anger towards those who neglected him allowing the deep scars in his brain that refuse to heal. 

We rock, he sucks his thumb and flinches when I wipe the tears from his face.  I do it anyway.  I want to believe that maybe I can be with him during the flashbacks, then I can insert myself into his past somehow and rewrite his tragic beginnings. 

I feel desperate, hopeless.  Will he be OK? 

I tell my self, it has not happened in a while.  It is better than it was.  That is progress right?  Regardless, in the moment it feels just like it did the first time I saw him go into a PTSD state of mind.

The biggest difference, is now, we have years together.  There is intense love.  There is part of me that could not live without this son of mine.  My love is unconditional.  So on this Valentines day, that has lacked the fanfare of romanticism and holiday school parities, tonight I found myself sitting for hours, with love, with my love. 

Trying desperately to heal a child who's love void, has wounded him deeply
I hope with all of my heart he knows he is loved, and that someday his hurt will not be so great. 

I am sorry my little man that we did not find you sooner.  We searched for three years and we just could not find you.  We have loved you since we opened our hearts to finding you.  Regardless, I am sorry for so many years of you crying without someone coming to sit in the rocking chair with you and kiss you on the head. 

So my greatest gift was being present, with my present from the world.