Only 7 months later, John entered his first residential treatment center when his behaviors began to become serious safety risks for himself and the others. He was 6 years old. He had a long list of mental health diagnoses, none of which seemed to truly match this perplexing little boy. We had some home visits with John. At the last home visit, he somehow managed to get hold of some bleach (in spite of all the systems we had in place) and put it in the fish tank to “see if the fish liked to drink it” (They did; they died.). He pointed out poisonous bugs on our property and detailed a plan to use them to hurt his little sister. He colored for me a fascinating, detailed depiction of our whole family burning up in the house fire he planned to set (He was also in the drawing, but off to the side. See, it was like this: “I have wings and so I flew over here to watch.”). Sadly, this was not unlike other home visits; it’s just that this is the one home visit that precipitated the next momentous event.

The powers that be in the mental health field at the time then determined my son was ready to come home. He’d met the goals they had set for him in the residential treatment center. So, voila!, it is time for us to bring him home. Yet nothing had changed that would make him more safe. If anything, we had some time “off” from the constancy of dealing with the issues 24/7 and realized how very unsafe things had become with him. But, what could we do? We thought we knew. However, our naivete began to show. We explained to all of the folks at the residential center that he wasn’t ready to come home and we couldn’t bring him home. They said too bad. We talked to our adoption subsidy department, as they had included proper treatment in his subsidy package, yes? Sure, as long as the mental health folks agreed. As I said above, they didn’t. We decided that he couldn’t come home; it was unsafe. What would happen if we just didn’t take him home? “They” would have to keep him and help him, right??

Wrong. What happened is that I got arrested for child neglect and abandonment.

We filed an appeal with mental health and they agreed to keep him for 30 days while we worked out details. The arrest charges were dropped. I will never again be the same parent. Not after the day I learned that the very best parents, doing the very best for their children, but unable to cure their mental illnesses, will be arrested for trying to get help.

That was five years ago. Since then, I’ve adopted several children, all with mental illness. Call me crazy. I love my children. I will fight for everything that they need. But, I’m jaded. In those five years, I’ve fought an amazingly consistent battle for proper care for John. In monthly, sometimes weekly, meetings where my husband and I explain the situation – to one new casemanager after another, all of whom can’t seem to find the previous files – each a battle, each requiring finely tuned word games, each adding to my anxiety every time. He’s not ready to come home. Although I hope for more, it is likely that he will never be able to live in a family environment. He’s a beautiful child, but very mentally ill. In 5+ years, he hasn’t even moved beneath the highest level of supervised residential that state mental health can provide. Yet, unmistakenly, their decision at this point is very clear. They are removing permission for this treatment. They are not approving a lower level of care. They are asking that he return home with “intensive family therapy”.

What do we do?? (continued)

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