Bad Smell, Worse Behavior, Regretting Decisions

I have to say that I'm becoming more than a little tired of my blog being nothing more than documentation of our latest family crisis. Although it's exhausting to write, it's even more exhausting to live through the daily calms and explosions known as Danielle.

Yesterday's discovery of Danielle's incredibly stinky room ended up leading to a day-long tantrum. We asked her to clean up, and she screamed, argued and threw things, even when we tried to walk away.

It was so bad, once again I had to leave. After being punched (and bruised) earlier this month, I was no longer prepared to deal with Danielle's escalating threats of violence, which had been increasing all weekend. I told FosterEema that Danielle needed to be someplace else, but she didn't agree. I felt like it had come to a choice of Danielle leaving or me leaving.

Since FosterEema wasn't willing to budge on having Danielle removed, even temporarily. I left.

I'm giving serious thought to leaving permanently. I love my wife, but I don't love her enough to remain in the house with a child who is this out of control.

Much of the time, Danielle is a sweet, cooperative nice kid. The problem is that when she's not, she becomes a violent, raging lunatic. It's hard to reconcile the two children. It's like the story of Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde, only played out with a 13-year-old girl.

I cannot and I will not live with someone who physically abuses me. It's not safe for me, and it's not safe for Danielle. I know if she starts pounding on me I'm liable to hurt her when I defend myself.

I spent the night at my mother's house. This isn't the first time I've had to flee to my mother's house to protect myself from my child's behavior. What's different this time is that I'm thinking that this is going to be last time I'm going to do it. I'm considering options, looking for child boot camps, and trying to figure out how to work finances if I don't live at home any longer.

Fortunately, Danielle already had an appointment with our therapist this morning, so we all met at the therapist's office. I arrived a few minutes after FosterEema, haven driven for nearly an hour and a half to get there. FosterEema was already in speaking with the counselor, and Danielle was in the waiting room.

She didn't even meet my gaze. Probably just as well, because I was still angry, and the laser beams shooting from my eyes would have slayed her dead on the spot.

FosterEema and the therapist both agree Danielle's tantruming, threats of violence and hitting are completely unacceptable. What we disagree on, is how to treat the problem. The therapist thinks more therapy will help, FosterEema thinks medication, and I think it's time for boot camp.

I think that Danielle's fundamental problem is that she lacks respect. She lacks respect for us, for her teachers, for her friends, but most of all, herself. Although I am sympathetic to the fact that she has had a difficult childhood, and there is nothing emotionally easy about being abused and neglected, it does not give her carte blanche to tantrum, hit, kick, scream and break things. Although her crappy childhood might explain some of her behavior, it doesn't excuse it.

The latest casualty of war: a clear plastic box my stepmother had given her as a gift some months ago. She smashed it as she was slamming things around in her room yesterday.

The behavior has to stop. It's become a safety issue for all of us. Although we are still large enough to physically overpower and restrain Danielle, if necessary, she's big enough that it's increasingly probable someone will be hurt in the process.

Although I've had my moments of doubt about whether or not adopting Danielle was the right thing to do, I have come to the conclusion that adopting was a mistake. I regret my decision to sign the adoption agreement, especially because I felt like FosterEema pressured me into signing. I felt like I had a choice: sign the adoption agreement, or get a divorce. It seemed an untenable situation.

Now, I'm in one that's much worse. I signed the agreement and it looks like my wife and I are likely headed for a divorce because of Danielle. I cannot safely live with her, and FosterEema isn't willing to let her be somewhere else.

I regret adopting Danielle. It was a huge mistake, especially because I don't think that my marriage will survive the remaining 4 years, 3 months, and 18 days until Danielle's 18th birthday.