Another reason why I hate RAD.

Last night was Bucs last regular season baseball game. They won 2 to 1. It was a very good game. A nail bitter til the end. It may very easily have been his last baseball game ever. (other than tournaments next week)  He may not make the high school team or choose to even try out.

I did not sit with the rest of the parents and watch, cheering on the team or my son. I did not sit with my mom or my husband and eat pizza or hold baby Coco.

I sat on a bank behind the ball field restraining my 8 year old daughter while trying to talk her out of running over the bank into a five lane very busy road as she told me how much she wanted to kill herself. I tried to walk with her knowing that that would be what could get her regulated again, but she refused. Making her legs like spaghetti and laying on the ground. Although they could very quickly turn strong again when she decided to kick me or if I would let loose of her for a minute and she would run for the road.

I was very proud of my other children as we road home in the car and she yelled hateful things and talked with a potty mouth. Me, thanking God the whole way home she doesn't know any real bad words yet. They kept themselves together and didn't yell back or talk the way their sister was.

I've kept it together myself, I've not cried or thought about what would have happened if she made it to the road. I even was able to keep it together this morning as she was in her room screaming her lungs out and kicking her door. When my 7 year old son came up to me and said "I just want a new sister."

Oh I forgot to add that the I'm going to kill myself rage at the ballgame was because when I got her, Sissy and Buster up from naptime we quick jumped in the car to get Buc to his ballgame, run into the store, then get pizza to take to the ballgame and eat. I never thought about a snack. Of course neither did the 2 and 4 year old.