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Tantrums. Biting. Hitting. Screaming. My son was gifted at all those things. But he didn't stop there. At 5, he assaulted another child at a daycare center, using a pencil as his weapon of choice. I was mortified, scared, and none of the doctors we saw had a clue. At 6 he punched his 1st grade teacher (in the back, no less), and finally got kicked out of school. I was furious, shaking, when I walked into the principal's office, and that's when I saw him. For the first time. My real son. Not the monstrous child I hated and who terrified me. The one who was trapped in that monster's body. My son, the real one, looked up at me, scared, lips trembling. So vulnerable. In that moment, I knew: I had to find out what was wrong with my son and stop the rage consuming him.
Abonner på vårt nyhetsbrev og få rabatter og inspirasjon til din neste leseopplevelse.
Ved å abonnere godtar du vår personvernerklæring.