therapy through typing

today my child told me he hates me. he told me he doesn't love me. he told me I'm stupid. he told me these things not once, not twice. to be honest I don't know how many times he told me. I stopped counting a long time ago. guess it's my way of denying that these things are happening in my own family. between my own child and me. does he do it because he's an angry boy? is he a sad child? i don't think he really feels these things. there's something else he's trying to communicate. but what is it? things had gotten so much better the first half of the school year. I really thought we had turned a corner. things are now back to the way they were before he started kindergarten. why? I shake my head and ask myself this question all day. especially at night. that's when it's the worst. I'm typing this at night because my emotions are so fresh, so raw. the whole day bubbles and bubbles in my body until I can't take it anymore. so I write. I don't write because I want attention. i don't write because i want to hear a million suggestions of what we could be doing differently. I write because it's my therapy. I write because it helps me step out of that denial and face the truth. I am fed up and all I know to do is write.

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