The “I don’t want to go to Papa’s house, I want to stay with you” drama I wrote about in Check Mate continues … and intensifies, seemingly, with every episode. Tonight it took one hour of reasoning, reassuring, pacifying and putting his mind at rest that I’m not just ‘shoving him out’ before he decided to go, of his own accord. It has to be his decision in the end, but we have to guide him there … I refuse, point blank, just to open the door in a grumpy strop and push him away saying ‘this is how it is’. I could never. And he wouldn’t understand. The potential consequences of him not getting it are unthinkable.
In some ways I’m toughening up and finding new ways of gently ‘manipulating’ his state of mind so that he actually makes the definitive decision himself to go, but in other ways this is dragging me down with such a weight in my heart that it physically hurts.
And once again, I come face to face with my past, my upbringing and with any belief I ever had in a higher order … What omnipotent being, … what God, could allow two actually very well-meaning adults to inflict such trauma on a young child.
Perhaps, when all is said and done, it is my agnosticism which is toughening me up … an increasing belief in the fact that we really are bloody well out here on our own.