This post is part of a series that I’m writing about something that I believe is rare for families who live with an aggressive special needs adult. Our story is about the transformation of Graham, a violent young man who is being taught to independently control himself and who now participates as part of a family. It is a story about how he has learned to join OUR life and that the world is not centered around him. It is a story of hope for us in that as we continue to teach Graham coping skills and give him firm boundaries, he will never physically hurt anyone again.
scratches after an attack
This post was written by my husband, Scott (Graham’s dad). It is his perspective of the time when we were talking about getting married and the risks for me and my boys moving into his home.
So much had happened in Graham’s life and in my life leading up to the transition of Eleanor and the boys moving in. More about the past later; but suffice it to say, I was inviting a tiny woman (compared to Graham’s size) and her two young teenage sons into a potential war zone.
Graham was turning 18 years old, almost 6 feet tall and about 200 pounds at that time. He was part of a special education program at school where he was allowed to sleep and sit on the computer most of the day. I was frequently called in to get him because of violent episodes which then spilled over into home. His anxiety level was high, and although he did his best to hold it together, he lacked any real skills and accessible tools to regulate himself.
As a result, I was trained to live in a minefield mentality. I lived in constant fear always trying to make sure that his routine was in place, nothing in his surroundings would go wrong or unexpectedly happen to set him off. He had backup Gameboys and DVDs stocked just in case something broke. He would only be fed his favorite foods (there were only 3 foods he would eat at the time). I tried to keep breakables that he could throw at us out of reach. My van was cleared to the back seat where he was safe to sit and not injure me while driving. His nails were clipped far back all the time to lessen injury when scratching people. Graham’s older brother knew what to do when he had a meltdown – what to clear and how to prepare his room to minimize damage to things.
Graham’s tendency is to hurt others and break things. He is generally not self-injurous.
Again, I was inviting a comparatively tiny woman and her two young teenage sons into a potential war zone. It was my thought to train this stubborn woman and orient her to our little war zone. Maybe it was blind optimism or faith in God or pure and simple male head in the sand attitude that allowed me to go through with this, but somehow I hoped it could be ok. If I could train her well enough to stay out of his way, if they could keep their distance and let me manage things, maybe this could be ok.
If you’re reading this far, you probably know the outcome of trying to avoid all the antecedents to behaviors – you can’t. Like whack-a-mole, as you figure one out three more pop up and you go crazy or weary and the whole thing unravels and reinforces the fear that something terrible will happen, because it does.
I tried to talk to this stubborn lady and tell her “how things work here” and she seemed to smile and nod but I sensed she had other ideas and that scared me to death. What she somehow began to formulate in her mind was that it might be a good idea to step on a few of those mines to see what would happen. And that’s what she did. She stepped and he exploded and she got hurt. She still has a baggy of hair that he pulled out of her head from one of those huge episodes. And believe it or not, I was mad…at her. “I told you! I warned you!” “Why did you… Why can’t you… Let me… Get back… You don’t understand.”
So that’s how it began as this stubborn woman stepped into my little minefield and decided that just maybe, the ticking bomb could learn to do something different than explode. And as we entered this time, I was scared to death.