The parenting classes said nothing about how to deal with a suicidal six-year-old.

All those parenting books don’t cover having to nail your son’s windows shut because he was caught by a neighbor trying to climb out of his second story window.

No one told me how to handle a child who explodes with anger when asked to put his shoes on instead of his sandals because it’s muddy out.

All those websites don’t mention what to do when you get spit at in the face, punched in the head, kicked in the nose, scratched, and bitten.

None of his therapists can tell me what to do when he shuts down and hides during therapy.

His doctor listened with shock when I detailed how he manipulated his siblings with well-timed fights to get what he wanted.

You know the only thing they keep saying? “He needs to be in public school. That would help.”

Yeah, no. It’s the middle of a pandemic, in an area that has a 50% vaccination rate and is defiantly anti-mask. I don’t think so.

Besides, what if he exploded at someone else? What if someone gets hurt?

You know what I do know? This is a child who agonizes over what he’s done. Who has internalized “bad kid.” Who said “I don’t want to be alive if I can’t control my attitude.”

He’s hurting.

He is the storm.

And when the storm blows over and calm finally descends, I hold him and cry. I tell him he’s a good kid. That I love him no matter what. That he will get through this, and we WILL find a way to help him.

No one – NO ONE – prepared me for this.