For the past two years, I have been walking around and patting myself on the back.
We successfully changed behaviors in therapy.
We overcame adversities. And aggression.
And I told people about it.
But almost immediately after I share our successes with others or think I have found the light at the end of this very dark tunnel, the magnetic forces of the universe, or fate, or something out of nowhere pokes the bear.
Today was a hard day for Ally. And I am not sure why, but she tried to run away, both at school and at home.
This was a behavior we changed long ago but has resurfaced twice this year, first in the Fall and now. Eloping behavior was why we put her on meds. It was what kept me up at night. And now tonight, I worry what happens when someone isn’t fast enough to catch her.
I think about that day I put my three-year-old on medication because I myself was too injured to chase her.
While I hope this was just a visit from an old ghost, it feels like trauma from our past is creeping up on us, here to remind us that behaviors don’t just go away and that this is our reality.
Or just a bad day.