Why do we spend thousands of dollars on placements for special needs kids and then decide that once they’re 18 they are cured and able to live on their own? We have an RTC in our county, and I have come in contact with some of their kids who have graduated to therapeutic foster homes. I have seen two of these young men graduate from high school. One is now in prison and has been labeled a sex offender. When Daughter went with him to the prom, I was assured that he was a “nice boy.” He graduated with Daughter 2 years ago.
The second is currently in the psych unit after his second suicide attempt. He moved into his apartment in June. Less than 3 months later, he has tried to kill himself—twice. I knew him better because he came to church. I knew him well enough to know that setting him up in an apartment on his own with no money and no job was an invitation to disaster.
I could go on about the disasters I have seen happen or see coming. I’ll be the first to acknowledge that living with a special needs young adult is not easy, but the answer is certainly not to throw them out into the world with minimal supervision.
I’m too tired to continue my rant, and I don’t have any answers. I do have a profound sadness for two young men who were set up for failure when they were kicked out of the nest too soon.
I’m going to go upstairs and see where Daughter is sleeping tonight. I hope she is back in her room. It has been exhausting to be around her again today, and I want some distance from her tonight. She hasn’t been up prowling, so maybe tonight the trazadone did its job and she’ll actually sleep.
On a more humorous note (on the other hand, maybe it's on a more tragic note), I was talking to Brother and emailed him the pictures of the sweatshirt remnants and the burning power pole. I cc'd my 2 sisters, and didn't put in an explanation. I got an immediate response from one sister demanding to know what had happened and if everyone was okay. She was trying to connect the two pictures, and had envisioned the pole fire somehow causing a beam that hit the sweatshirt. She was concerned about the health of anyone who had been wearing the sweatshirt when the event occurred. I called her and offered and apology and an explanation. The resulting conversation was a good one. My other sister tried to call me while I was at Bible Study tonight. By then, I had sent out an explanation of the pictures. She didn't leave a message, so I'm hoping one of my siblings filled in the details.