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Where to start? The situation goes back 38 years. How do I make this long story short? Let me try with a few facts about me and the people involved. Me: I'm 57, was diagnosed with bipolar when I was 18. I got pregnant at 18 and was a single mom until I met my husband when my son was 4. He adopted my son. My parents: my dad was pretty much physically around but not mentally. He wasn't much of a "dad" but more a guy who tried to be "cool" and interact with all my friends. He wasn't a bad guy, but not a great father. My mom: She was overbearing at times, strict, critical, and made me feel like nothing I did was good enough. She yelled a lot and accused me of being a "difficult child/teen". Personally, looking back, I would have to disagree. I never got into trouble, I never got expelled from school, never did drugs, went to two parties in my whole teen years, and got drunk at one. My mother had double standards. My brother, who was 2.5 years older than me, was allowed to go to rock concerts, I was not, even when I got to the age where he was allowed. I would sneak out to them, sleeping over at friends' houses to go, but she wasn't aware of that until I was an adult. I never stole, never got into fights, didn't sleep around, I was a virgin until I was 18, when I got preganant. My biggest "issues" were that I talked back, argued and got angry going in my room and slamming the door. I never broke anything or caused any damage. So, that was me, being a difficult child. I don't remember my mom ever saying she was proud of me until I lost a lot of weight after gaining it during my pregnancy. My mom always had a borderline obsession with my weight. I never seemed thin enough.
My brother: Very quiet, shy and stayed in his room when at home. Didn't have a girlfriend until he was in is late 20s early 30s. His first one only lasted a few months, his second one became his wife. They later divorced and he has been with no one ever since. His son was diagnosed with high functioning autism and for the most part you wouldn't even know. He is now 21 and my brother treats him like his buddy. He refuses to encourage him to get a job, when he showed interest in wanting one, and I gave him a suggestion my brother piped up saying "If you work full time, how will you go to comicon with me?" Ya...he said that.
My daughter: She was born a biological male. We always suspected she was different. She chose to go as snow white or Cinderella over any male character for Halloween. She played with dolls over cars and trucks. He played the "mom" when playing house at daycare and didn't like being called a boy. Eventually, once she reached adulthood she began the process of transitioning. She now goes by the name Summer, changing it from Steven. I love her to pieces, she is a beautiful person both inside and out. She was diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety with bouts of depression as a result of the trauma my son inflicted on her, and the family.
My son: The main reason for this very long thread. I apologize now for the length.
I first noticed issues with my son when he was as young as one year old. He didn't want to go to sleep and would violently shake his crib to the point where we had to take the wheels off so he couldn't move it across the floor. When he got older (toddler age) if he couldn't fit the circle into the square toy he would throw it crossed the room. He didn't like to share and would grab toys away from other children. When I was finally able to move out on my own, he was around three. He opened his window which had no screen but was child proof only opening about 4 inches wide, he proceeded to throw his toys and books out the window. We lived on the 5th floor. When I asked him why, he said cus he felt like it. So I put all the toys in a garbage bag and put in the storage closet until he earned them back.
His first violent outburst was also at three, when I refused to allow him to go outside by himself. His five year old friend wanted him to but obviously I said no. My son threw such a temper-tantrum he grabbed ahold of my hair and refused to let go. My friend had to literally pry his fingers off.
Now, to make this very long story a bit shorter I will fly by with several incidences without detail.
My husband adopted my son when he was four. My mother often did not like our disapline methods. When I was pregnant with my second child my son was close to six. We decided to clear out the storage room, which was very large, so he would have a place for himself since he would have to share the bedroom eventually with his sibling. We fixed up the room with his toys, a desk, and decorations. When he was bad and needed a time out that was his room. My mom said we were locking him in a closet. I assure you, it was almost the size of his bedroom minus a window. He only had the time out until he was ready to apologize and behave.
This disapproval of the way we did things was constant. I took my son to various doctors, told he was just overactive and dismissed. My son continued getting into trouble at school, sent home and even suspended when he was in grade six. He punched wholes in walls, smashed things, threatened me, my husband and his baby brother.
He locked me in a bathroom and laughed when his baby brother was crying. He choked, hit and pushed him constantly. As my son got older it only got worse and had to be removed from the house many times after neighbors called the police. We lost babysitters due to him throwing toys at them, yelling and screaming if his baby brother was getting more attention then him.
I used to run a home day care but had to shut down when he threw such a huge temper tantrum when he was around ten years old. He ripped the ladder off the bunk beds he shared with his brother and smashed it through the window. He was removed from the home because he was a threat to his brother. I should note that we were unable to move because we couldn't afford it. It was a two bedroom. We did eventually move to the living room so we could separate them into their own bedrooms. And yes, I was always afraid for my younger child. He often slept in the room with us.
We warned them not to put my son in foster care, begging them to place him somewhere he could get help, but they didn't listen. This lead to the foster mom receiving a broken arm from a fire poker. My son went on to pushing an elderly man down the stairs at a treatment group home, jumping out the window and running away. Attempting to hang himself, which the hospital deemed as attention seeking not actual suicide (I wasn't there, I don't know) I did ask for more help to no avail.
When he was thirteen he broke my nose because he blamed his friend for something he did and I told him that it was not his friends fault and he needed to take responsibility. He didn't like that I defended his friend and not him so he threw a fit and broke my nose. He was arrested.
My mother was angry, she felt his life was unstable and he had no security. When I mentioned that I only called the police on him once and that all the other incidence were the result of neighbors calling the police, she would just shake her head and say "well he needs help, not bouncing from group homes and treatment centers" as if it was my fault.
After this incidence and he was allowed back home he was on medication which seemed to really help...for a while. The aggressive behavior returned and once again he was removed from the home and placed in a group home. We begged them to please get him help, which he finally received and was at 16 diagnosed with asperger syndrome with aggression and depression.
After the diagnoses they offered us or him any assistance on how to help him. I read books and tried implementing some of the suggestions, however it didn't help. When he was sixteen he was kicked out of school for pulling a knife on a guy. He was charged with assault for pulling a knife on another guy when they got into a fight.
My husband and I told him that he had to either go back to school, get his GED or find a job by the time he was sixteen. He did get a couple of jobs that he quit, he continued to apply and I helped him get one that he also quit. So, the night before his eighteenth birthday he stole my van, packed it up with camping gear, changed the license plates, took my debit card and drained my bank account and headed to the school parking lot to purchase pot. He was spotted by police who ran the plates and realized it didn't match the van. I was called and asked if I knew where my van was. This was at 5am. I said "In my driveway." They asked me to go check, I did, it was gone. They asked if I knew where my son was, and of course I knew.
He was charged with grand theft and theft under 5000 since he was arrested after midnight he was officially 18 and charged as an adult. I went to court to get the charges reduced to taking an automobile without permission and theft under 1000. The courts prevented him from returning home. he stayed at a shelter to await sentencing. He was sentenced to community service. He took off and wound up at my parents, who always gave into him. My parents of course took him in and got his community service transferred to their city.
My mom, instead of encouraging him to work, got him on Disability benefits (ODSP) instead, and bravo, he's been on it ever since never encouraged to get a job.
He lived on his own for a couple of years and stupidly we took him back when we moved to a large farm house with a inlaw suite. Big mistake.
More violence, more abuse, my other child moved out after years and years of consent emotional and mental abuse. Any time she succeeded in anything, my son got jealous and lashed out at her.
Now the straw that broke the camels back so to speak. We moved to another house when the owner of the farm house sold it. We accommodated my son giving him the master bedroom so he had his own bathroom. He had issues sharing. It was here that he got himself back onto medication. He was taking Paxil and doing really well. Then he started smoking pot. By this time I was in what my therapist called "survival mode" meaning I prevented conflict, basically allowing him to do whatever to avoid abuse. I made the mistake of sending him a link showing how pot conflicted with paxil. He went on a very large rant.
Christmas of 2021 all *** broke lose. My daughter, who was now transitioned just awaiting surgery, was over with her boyfriend, my brother, his ex-wife (they are still friends) and his son were also there. My son got into a discussion regarding the politically correctness of saying "African American" he himself is bi-racial and often accused us of being racist because we didn't know what it was like. (okay, that's fair, but we are in no way racist.) I made a statement that my very good "black" friend actually didn't like the term because they are from Jamacia and would rather be called black, or colored. My son went on a rant and asked for my daughter to defend him. She said she wasn't getting involved which angered him even more and he started with the verbal abuse calling names which lead to her and her boyfriend finally deciding to leave. My son proceeded to call her by her birth name which is Steven, instead of her chosen name which is Summer. He told her several times she was a dude and would always be a dude. He then said that she always gets away with more cus she's trans. My son said the next time he get in trouble with police he was going to say he was non-binary or trans so they'd get passed him being black and then he wouldn't get into trouble.
Feb 2022 my son crossed the line of verbal, mental and emotional abuse to full on physical assault.
My son often would borrow money that my husband and I set aside for rent. We didn't mind doing this as my son was bad at budgeting due to getting all his money at once. It became a circle of him borrowing throughout the month then giving it back when he got his money and then it would start all over again. He always paid it back and there was never a problem.
This month was different. He decided he wasn't paying it back. His explanation was that he was entitled to chose which bills to pay and which to avoid and he chose to not pay me back. He would pay his rent (we claimed 480 rent but only charged him 250) the rest went towards car insurance and extra bills of his.
I explained that I would not be able to pay rent if he didn't pay us back. He didn't seem to care saying I should have thought of that. I made the mistake of telling him that I was entitled to claim the actual rent he was paying instead of what we were claiming to ODSP. (technically it is legal since he is allowed x-amount as a gift) it was our income tax that suffered since we claimed we were paying less and he was paying more.
He blew up and barged into my bedroom which had a stick lock under the door knob. I was recovering from a back injury I received working as a PSW. I was on compensation and receiving physio-therapy.
When he barged in I stood up in front of him and with my left hand I pushed his right shoulder trying to push him out the door. Obviously I couldn't, it was instinct. He lunged at me and I stumbled telling him he was hurting my back. He said "Good" and lunged again, this time I tripped over my ferrets cage door that was open and I fell to the ground. I rolled onto my stomach and put my hands over my face. He proceeded to grab my hair and lift my head up off the carpet and strike my face and head every time he lifted it. I could hear my dog (who was a senior but medium size) she was barking and whining but I couldn't see if she was doing anything to my son. My son did get up and kick me hard in the outer thigh. while he was lifting my head up he had his knee pressed against my left shoulder blade preventing me from getting up.
He walked out of my room, leaving me scared and shaken. I guess I was in shock cus I felt no pain. I grabbed my cell phone and was in the process of calling 911 when he barged back into my room. My mind instantly flashed to thinking he came back to kill me. I jumped onto a chair and held my phone close to my chest trying to prevent him from grabbing it. He fought me for it eventually getting it from my. He tore a large gash in my arm that I didn't even notice until the police pointed it out. Again I felt no pain.
Once he left with my phone I quickly got my work cell which he didn't know I had, I braced myself against my door with my foot pushing against the door frame of my bathroom and managed to call 911. He yelled outside my door that I hit him first, which I didn't. Couldn't even if I wanted to.
When the police arrived and I finally could get out of my room I noticed he was wearing purple track pants (I never even seen before) and a pink top, I didn't see his face but later learned he shaved off his scruff. He told the police the fight was because he was non-binary and went by the name "Winter" and that I was a bigot.
One of the officers came over to me where I was now sitting on the sofa and pointed out the gash on my arm. She went and got paper towel to stop the bleeding.
The other officer asked me what happened to my son's face. My son yelled that I did it. Puzzeled I didn't even know what was wrong with his face. I said "I don't know, I did;'t see anything, maybe my dog scratched him, I don't know, but I didn't touch him aside from trying to get him to leave my room." That cop looked at me like I was lying and told me they would take him to the hospital and get him evaluated before bringing him home. What???
I told the cop no way was he coming back so he could finish what he started. The female police officer told me that if I pressed charges he wouldn't be allowed back so that is what I did. My son, from the police car, texted me to tell me I was ruining his life and begged me to drop the charges. The police officer who stayed with me advised me to inform him we could no longer communicate, which I did.
Now, to my parents. I called my mom to inform her of what happened. She was frantic and very upset. My father, in the background, asked how Mikey was, not how am I. My mom actually got mad at my dad saying "Your grandson just beat up your daughter and you are worried about him." After a lengthy conversation the police came back. Mikey was in the police car and the police asked if he would be allowed to go to my parents. I called my mom back and asked her and she said "Not a hope in ***". So the police asked if I knew anywhere else he could go. I told them he had a friend he could go to.
My son was allowed to grab some clothing items and his car and was released pending trial. He drove to my parents and they of course took him in. That was not what angered me.
I found out by my dad calling me the next day to ask how I was. I said my face was a mess. He said "so is Mikey's" I responded "What? How do you know, and what exactly is wrong with his face?" My dad; "Because he's here and he has cuts all over it." I hung up.
The police later informed me that he changed his story about his face three times. First he said I did it. Then he said the dog did it, then he finally admitted he did it dry shaving to get his facial hair off before the police showed up.
I myself received a minor concussion, several bruises on my face, including my jaw, preventing me from chewing. A extremely large bruise on my thigh that I had to go back to get check for clotting. Another large bruise on my shoulder blade, a gash on my arm that due to me not getting medical attention until the next day was now not stitched and became infected. It was thought it was his fingernail that did the gash. His nails are long and strong and dirty. I now have a tattoo covering the scar. My back injury was re-injured and compensation dropped payments because the re-injury occurred at home.
Since I was not allowed to contact my son, the police informed me I could not call my parents in case he answered the phone. However they were allowed to call me. Several days later my mom called me to inform me that my dad was going to court with Mikey and then getting the car put in his name (it was his car that they gave him for free but was in my name for insurance purposes). I made a comment that they were once again enabling him and not letting him take responsibility for his actions. My mothers response was "You really hate him don't you?" Wow. I shot back that she had a lot of nerve asking me that after everything I have been through trying for years to get him help and suffering consent mental and emotional abuse all while suffering from bi-polar. She said that I wanted him on the street instead of there with them which I denied saying I gave his friends name that I knew they would enable him and his friend would not.
Bickering back and fourth became the norm until one day in June just after my mothers bday she called to ask why Summer didn't call to wish her a happy birthday. I told her I didn't know, but she is upset with her for taking Mikey in and feeling sorry for him again making excuses etc.
Afterwards Summer told me it was that, but that she also forgot. So I called my mother back and told her that she forgot, not wanting bitterness between them, however, due to mutual family members being on Mikey's FB page, I was sent a screenshot of a post Mikey put pretty much repeating my mother and my whole entire conversation. I tried ignoring it.
July 1st my husband and I moved to a one bedroom apartment in the same building my daughter and her boyfriend lived. My senior dog went down hill. Her health got very poor and by September she developed demensia and would pee at random, walk into walls and at times growl at us We had to make the decision to put her to sleep. It was very hard. I loved her very much.
I called to wish my dad a happy birthday and to tell my mom what had happened. She explained that my dad was out with Mikey buying him some stuff. She also mentioned that he was redoing his room to suite him more and they were paying. I sighed and told her it was like he was being rewarded for assaulting me. She didn't comment on that, but mentioned that they found him counciling. I mentioned that the courts were going to do that, I was called by the crown and asked what I wanted done. I told the crown that he would not benefit from jail because he's a follower. I said he need counciling and should not be allowed to drink or do drugs and should have to do community service somewhere dealing with domestic violence.
My mom argued saying "No, we got him help, not the courts it was us."
On Mikey's *** page was again my conversation with my mom as Mikey saw it. He put that I was angry that my parents got him help and I didn't. He claimed that I never tried when he was living with me, even though I took him to a place the doctor recommended and he walked out. he said that after moving into an apartment building I had my dog put down because I didn't want to walk her. ( I have since gotten another dog that I walk constantly btw). That I claim to love him but don't want to have anything or I don't want my parents doing anything and that I can't possibly love him since I wanted him to live on the street.
I stopped talking to my parents. I was tired of every conversation being repeated on Mikey's FB page. Obviously she told him what we spoke about.
I Had therapy which was paid for by the victims rights organization. I received the maximum allowed sessions. This is determined by the extent of the assault. I was doing better. I was moving on, I even forgave my parents, and my son. I even reached out to him, but was ignored. I sent my parents gifts for their birthday and mother/fathers day, Christmas until my brother called and told me my mom said to stop sending them things.
I continued sending to Mikey though. He is my son.
A few weeks ago I learned from my brother that my parents were leaving Mikey and his son Liam the house to live in when they passed. Nothing is being left for their grand-daughter Summer.
Before all this happened everything was going to be split 50/50 between my brother and me. I stated that the grandkids should at least get the insurance, but my mom said no. Now since this happened the house is going to her two grandsons, and my brother is allowed to live in it until he passes. Personnally I don't care about me, but they left nothing to my daughter and my brother was perfectly okay with it telling me I have no right to be mad cus it's their house and money and they can do what they want. Now not only do I not speak to my parents but I no longer speak to my brother.
I am now left bitter, angry, frustrated and it is really doing a number on my mental health. I hurts not only me but my daughter.
So, that is my struggle. My moods, energy, depression are all up and down and I have no idea how to get passed all this for the second time when more now has been added on top. If anyone has taken the time to read this extremely long blog I would welcome some input, advise, opinion or just telling me if I am at fault in some way because I do question if it's me that caused all this some how. Although my daughter says I'm an awesome mom, she witnessed everything I've been through aside from the actual assault, she was there right after. I'm so confused.
