"Chaddock is my second chance."
Kyle didn't remember anything that happened to him before he was adopted, but the pain wouldn't go away.
Kyle came to Chaddock after his adoptive father had made an unannounced visit to our campus. Kyle's therapist told his parents that the best hope to save Kyle's emotional and psychological wellbeing was a place called Chaddock. Kyle's father jumped in his car and drove several hours to see the place for himself.
Kyle had been adopted 2 years earlier by a couple who already had a child, but felt called to adopt this little boy. They didn't know much about his background, and Kyle didn't remember anything. What little the parents did know, they were happy that Kyle had forgotten.
Because of the trauma he'd suffered as an infant, Kyle saw the world as a frightful and dangerous place, and did whatever he could to keep himself safe by keeping others at a distance. He was especially focused on his adoptive mother. His verbal and physical outbursts were putting the entire family at risk.
During his first week at Chaddock, a staff member took him for an ice cream cone. She wanted to use the time to establish a relationship, to get to know him. As they sat and chatted, he suddenly paused, tears in his eyes, and blurted "I don't know why I hit my Mom."
The staff was taken aback, but recovered quickly. "I know you don't, buddy, and we'll talk about that sometime. But for right now, let's just eat our ice cream and talk about happy things."
In the last year, Kyle has talked about happy things, and he also talked about unhappy things. He talks about the things that make him mad, and why he has feelings he doesn't fully understand. He's making headway. The last time his parents came to visit him, he hugged his Mom tightly. She bent down and kiss the top of his head. It's progress.
