Happy Birthday Ethan!
Ethan turned 17!
We saw this crazy toast costume at the restaurant, and I asked the woman who worked there if he could try it on. Ha! He makes toast look good.
Here is Emmett's card he made for Ethan. I loved this picture so much.
The little boys with their cards.
and the inside of Jason's card. :)
Here he was with his Costco cake...by request, of course.
Turning seventeen was a very quiet end to a very intense year for Ethan. An intense year after a long row of intense years. It hasn't been an easy road for this good looking son of mine. Instead of the type of high school experience I had hoped for him, his path had lead him through a thorny road full of depression, mental instability and anxiety filled rages. His highs were extreme (and not all natural) and his lows were devastating. It was heartbreaking and maddening to watch him vacillate between these two different emotions.
We tried our best to help him find the right help and make the best choices to pull himself out of the pit he kept finding himself in. Through every decision we made, Robert and I would weigh the odds of getting him to a more mentally stable place and reaching a fulfilling future, against the possible harm he could encounter or feelings of abandonment we knew he harbored.
If sending him to a private school twisted my gut to shreds each night he was away from us, deciding to send him to a residential treatment center broke my heart. What made the decision worse was that I felt a rush of relief and even a sense of freedom the moment Robert took him on a plane to Utah. A tightening in my chest that had become so constant that it felt normal, was finally released and I felt such a overwhelming flooding of calm. The tension in the rest of the kids followed, and it made me feel so awful that they had been forced to experience the emotional rollercoaster along with me and Robert. We had chosen this path, no matter the good or bad, but the other kids were just shoved into it.
Still, I hated myself a little for needing the respite. It gave me a kind of numb feeling of failure. Not as a person, or even a mother, but just a dull sensation of knowing that I didn't have what Ethan needed. I wished, more than anything, that I could be enough for him. That Robert could be enough for him. But we had to come to accept that he needed more than we could ever provide. He needed professional intervention, and so did we.
Ethan's absence was only made slightly less difficult, by the good progress that I knew the therapist was making with Ethan. We felt he was in a safe, good environment and most of all, he was getting a six month break, albeit forced break, from the drugs that had so aggravated his already fragile mental state. Six months drug free, meant six months more of growing and maturing and possible learning to live without that poisonous crutch for his anxiety.
The road when he got home again was hard. It was full of terrible choices, some returns to old behaviors and more lows than I can count. And things haven't magically gotten better, not even now that he's seventeen. That being said, there are many more stretches of calm in between the tempests. He has some moments of reflection and a few more moments of happiness. There has been a mellowing of sorts, almost too imperceptible to notice at first, but certainly there. The flares of rage are not so often and not always dragging him down to his untouchable despair as they used to.
He has been accepted to join the JobCorp program, which give him a hope for his future that he has been lacking for such a long time. He has some goals to aim for, and that give him purpose. Until Covid allows the school to open, we have him working on his GED. Even though he threatens to quit the program every few weeks, it has been good for him to continue to take steps for his future.
After a couple years of living through Ethan's suicidal threats, uncontrolled rage and severe depression, there have been many times I wondered if he would make it to his next birthday. Knowing that his life was balancing on such a precarious, shaky point has been heart wrenching. Wondering if he would, in a moment of anger make a choice that would forever alter his future has been tough to bear.
So, turning seventeen was a big deal.
And I really, really, really love this kid. Ethan can be the most charming, fun, exciting person to be around. He has so many talents stuffed into that lanky body of his. His athleticism is only rivaled by his natural musical abilities. He has always amazed me with his ability to laugh with complete abandon and loose himself in a moment of excitement or joy. He is a kid who can let go on inhibitions (for the good and the bad) and boldly attempt things that others keep themselves from trying from overthinking or timidness.
This child found his way into my heart the moment he was put into my arms, and I have loved him fiercely ever since. He has overcome more than any kid his age should have ever had to overcome. He has worked through sensory issues, learning disabilities, severe adhd, crippling anxiety, and depression. He has done the very best that he could with the tools he was given, and even though it has brought him to his knees so many times, somehow, he has been able to pull himself up again. (sometimes on his own, and sometimes kicking and screaming.)
Merely getting through this life has been and will always be a constant struggle for him, and I am so proud of him for playing against a stacked deck. I hope and pray that this next year will bring him even more peace and direction. I sure love my beautiful Ethan-boy. I am proud and humble to have been chosen to be his mother. It has been a heavy responsibility and an absolute honor. Happy birthday, son.
