WFE

Go ahead and bark at me, you grouchy jackass.  Guess what??  You can handle your withdrawn, unwashed, hostile kid all by yourself.  Looks like suddenly he isn't as "perfect" as you've always claimed he is.  Newsflash, dad - he never was.  NONE OF THEM ARE.  They're all kids, NOT adults.  They're all quirky and screwed up in their own ways.  Yours is arrogant, opinionated, bossy, and sometimes cruel.  He is lacking in social skills, bad at making friends, and horrible with girls. So, not perfect, yet still nearly flawless in your eyes.

His latest escapade - a fantasy relationship (and I use the term loosely) with a 22 year old in WA has left him withdrawn, mean, and profoundly depressed.  He so obviously is in crisis and so urgently in need of intervention.  Yet day after day you spin your wheels, unable to face the obvious, horrified that this perfect child of yours is so obviously human and imperfect after all.  You seem almost angry as you struggle to come to terms with this.  I have mentioned therapy to you over and over.  "But he WON't KNOW THAT PERSON!"  you blurted yesterday, as if E would be the first 17 year old ever to enter therapy; as if the secrets of his mind are so precious and secret that they are unable to be shared with a stranger.  Ridiculous, appalling.  I mentioned that he had not showered in 5 days and was sharply rebuked.  I mentioned that he semed hostile and was again rebuked.  Fuck it, I thought.  You know everything . . . deal with this yourself.

So . . . today I did not interject my words, advice, or opinion.  I did not even acknowledge that this odd child was barricaded in his room and refuses now to leave even for meals.  K was very tense and edgey all day; quick to snap, and exceedingly frustrated when E refused to eat his meals downstairs.

In bed tonight I observed that it would be very boring to not leave the same room for days on end.  K immediately lashed out, saying harshly that he would not discuss Eric with me.  Okay.  Fine, grouch.  Then you're on your own.  You just keep sticking that misquided head in the sand, foolishly hoping that this situation is going to turn around on its own, and that one day the old Eric is going to come downstairs and commandeer the entire family room, TV, dinner conversation, and DVR just like he used to.  Yeah, okay.  Don't hold your breath.  But I'm outta this and Super Dad and Son will figure it out together, on their own.