Yesterday became the day I feared since Pedro moved back in with my parents. Since I expected some of this to occur sooner, I shouldn't have been so surprised when it did at last happen. For some reason, the holidays seem to make Pedro more antagonistic towards Mom and Dad. I could feel it the other night when I ate dinner over at my parents'. Mom was at work, but there was this glint in Pedro's eye when he spoke to my dad; his tone carried an edge I haven't heard in a long time. He simmered with resentment about the surgery from two years ago--the unexpected appendectomy that resulted after a few days of Pedro moaning about a pain he couldn't articulate. Now he claims he told Mom and Dad that he wanted to go to the hospital, but KC was there, too, and she called him out on it: no, he hadn't mentioned the hospital at all. Pedro has this habit of remembering what he imagines and not what is accurate.
Now he is denial about what happened at school. It's obvious that he isn't liked there; no one ever calls him back when he invites them out. Wednesday he apparently got in a fight with a kid on the basketball team. Then he pushed the coach away when the man tried to break the kids apart. He earned a two-day suspension for that. Even worse is that he is being accused of sexually harassing kids at school; one mother is to the point of filing a lawsuit against the school. In therapy Pedro only expresses his rage at everyone; his adamant denial of having done anything wrong; his fury that Mom and Dad don't believe him; his trust of only his biological dad, his real brother, and Cely.
I realize only this: that nothing and no one will ever help Pedro unless he can let himself love and be changed by that love.
Right now . . .I just can't see that happening.
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