Although I’ve worried about James for years, it’s recently become worse. His relationship with his mum has collapsed. It’s headed this way for a while. For James, there have been years of hurt, mixed messages, strict expectations, and upsetting moments. He loves her, she’s his mum, but he also remembers everything. He can forgive but not forget.
I understand that. We learn that the hob might burn us, and while the lesson stays, we still avoid burning ourselves. This is what James has been doing with his mum. The latest incident pushed him too far.
He’s been living with us on a semi permanent basis since 2024 anyway. Weekends and fun moments with his mum still happened, but he lived here. Small incidents made reconnecting harder. School trauma added to it. Section 19 and Council approved tutoring added more. The distance grew. This incident was the final straw.
James isn’t a simple victim. He pushes buttons, argues endlessly, can be rude, unnecessary, and exhaust you until you surrender. He also reacts in the moment and feels injustice and hypocrisy sharply. His neurodiverse wiring means empathy and future consequences sit far behind whatever he’s feeling in the moment. It damages relationships, burns bridges, and leaves him isolated. I won’t defend his negative actions, but he still needs compassion, compromise, and care, like any child.
He wants space, freedom, and fewer arguments, but also wants to feel believed and taken seriously. He wants adults to stop assuming the worst and actually listen to what he’s trying to say. To see him as who he is. The choices he makes. The parts of him that he expresses that he worries won’t be accepted by those he cares about. I’d love to say we do, but I know we don’t. Well, not enough to appease James. We try. Hannah and I repeatedly try. It’s just when we get it wrong, it justifies his worst fears.
The collapse with his mum has triggered him. She knows she crossed a line and has tried apologising, but its more complicated than that. Years of hurt can’t be erased. His poor relationship with his stepdad hasn’t helped. When this incident happened, his stepdad shifted the narrative, minimised mum’s part, and blamed James’ attitude and behaviour. Unfortunately, they have different expectations for James, which perpetuates the problem.
We parent differently. We focus on communication and safety. We want him to tell us what he’s doing, eating, drinking, smoking, or taking. It’s not ideal, but we would rather support a bad choice than lose him to secrecy.
I saw my mum make this mistake with my brother. My mum went hard. Grounded and punished him. Set expectations high. Refused to find a mutual way forward. My brother pushed back. Broke boundaries. He even ended up in dangerous positions, like being found passed out, unconscious, paralytic drunk, and several times needed hospital treatment. Thankfully, he recovered. My mum learnt to act differently with me. Rather than letting me go off and do these things, mum, much to my brothers outcries of hypocrisy, allowed me, with set agreed boundaries, to do these things at home. Due to my health, I could do these things under her watchful supervision, than be somewhere isolated, alone, and in danger. I use this method for James.
James, however, struggles with empathy, accountability, and boundaries when he’s seeking relief. When I explain that I’m exhausted or in pain he hears guilt tripping and emotional manipulation. I’m trying to grow deeper empathy in him. He cannot see it. His brain is wired differently. So, I’m constantly balancing the situation, trying to support him without overwhelming him, and it’s draining in many ways.
James carries years of hurt from his mum, his stepdad, blended family conflict, school trauma, bullying, how his SEN needs were presented as behaviour, my degenerative health, my own misdiagnosis, his FSHD retesting, and how talking therapies never helped. He’s buried it all and finds relief with friends who understand him and mechanisms that, even for a moment, help make everything disappears.
I get that. I controlled physical, mental, emotional, and historic pain with alcohol. It was my relief and my excuse. The smallest thing would send me to a point that eased my buried hurt.
While this allowed respite, it also burnt bridges with friends and family. I see him burning bridges too. People strike while the iron is hot, but this burns all sides. Sometimes it’s better to wait, respond later, even when this doesn’t always work. He suffers more than he lets on. It breaks my heart.
James is hurting, but is loved. A boy who needs gentleness, compassion, and understanding especially when he makes it difficult to do it. He’s a boy standing at the edge of childhood trauma and seeks adult responses to make it better.
I don’t know what else to do. I hope he’ll find a steadier path, one where he feels safe enough to trust again. I want him to know he isn’t alone. I just see him spiralling and needing help, before it’s too late.
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