The Synopsis

My son, Josh, has a rage problem. Two years ago this spring I had him arrested for hitting me, pushing me, and pulling my hair in front of my mother-in-law. It started as an altercation that took place between he and Jess while I was at work. My mother-in-law told me about it when I got there to pick the kids up after work. At the time, Robert was in Dayton.

My mother-in-law told me Josh was choking Jess and wouldn't listen to her when she tried to intervene. When I told Josh to go outside and wait for his dad to get home, that he was upsetting his grandmother, he refused to go. I grabbed his arm to lead him to the door, and that's when he started pushing me and pulling my hair.

We went through family counseling, a "diversion" program where he went to anger management, community service, and a host of other programs designed as intervention. Things went well for awhile.

Over this past summer, things got worse. He started hitting the younger two, who are both much smaller than him. Jess started going to her boyfriend's family's house more and more to get away from him. Finally, Jess' boyfriend made her tell us what was going on. John had tried to defend Jess, but being much smaller than Josh, he wasn't much help. This stuff always happened when Robert was at work. Josh never tries this stuff around his dad.

But when it's just Jess, Jo and I, we spend our time tiptoeing around Josh to keep him from having a flare up.

Today it exploded. I think he must have been up all night on the cel phone with his girlfriend. In the past we've caught him (via our phone bill) talking until the wee hours of the morning with her on school nights. We've taken the phone and made him earn it back. He was always very angry from sleep deprivation on these occasions.

So today Jess tried to get him up for school, and he started yelling at her. Then I tried to get him up. He started yelling at me.

I went up to his room because he said if he had any clean clothes, maybe he could get ready. I had done laundry all weekend, including hanging up his clothes, so I was trying to figure out where his clothes were.

He told me to get out of his f*cking room. I informed him that the house and everything in it was ours. He got up in my face, and I warned him not to start this again. He said, "this is my room and my stuff, get out!" I was by his dresser, and I said, "Who do you think bought you this stuff? It's ours! Dad and I worked for it, if we take everything you have away from you, it's our choice." Angry, I knocked his cds off his dresser.

At that point, Josh lunged at me and shoved me, knocking my glasses off. He stepped on them and broke them. Then he grabbed my arm, twisting it behind me, shoving me against his dresser. He then turned around and started throwing tubs around the room. They are plastic see-through tubs with Jo's toys in them that we were putting in the attic.

I went downstairs and he followed me, calling me crazy and psycho (for knocking his cds off his dresser.) He got up in my face and was saying, "hit me, hit me, hit me." over and over. I went in to the kitchen, and he shoved me against the fridge. I shoved him away from me, and he lunged at me, knocking me in to the fridge again. I smacked him, saying, "Don't you ever hit me like that! I am your mom! Stop it!"

At that point, he went over the top, grabbing me by my throat. He took his thumbs and pushed them in to my throat, trying to crush my windpipe. I could barely get any air. Then he shoved my head in to our oven, which is built in to the wall, about at my height. Glass went everywhere, but I didn't get cut.

By this time, we were by the stove. I had bit him, kicked at him, and tried to knee him to try to get him off of me. He hit my head again and again against the hood above the stove. I was sure I wouldn't be able to last much longer with his hands cutting off my air like that. I reached for a pan that was sitting by the stove and smacked him in the face with it. He finally let go of me, and I collapsed.

I don't know which of the other kids called 9-1-1. I didn't even know anyone had called. Josh was still raging at me when he went out the door to board the bus. Although standing at the door was a police officer.

They arrested Josh and took him to juvenile detention. They took pictures of me and the oven. Right now my head hurts, I have very little voice and there are bruises on my arms, shoulder, back and neck.

His court hearing is tomorrow. I don't know where this goes from here. All I know is that I can't live in fear of my own son. I need prayers for wisdom here. Prayers for strength. Prayers for the right people to come to us to help us see the path to take.

I feel like a failure here. Where did I go wrong? Can things ever be okay between us again? Will he do this again? Can I live in the same home as him without this happening again? I just don't know. I just don't know.

Prayers, advice, support, encouragement... whatever you've got out there...I could use it all. Thank you. I have some really great friends.