My son Alyx is 19-years old. And he has had a rough life. I was his age when I gave birth to him, I got pregnant my senior year in high school. His bio father didn't stay in the picture long after finding out I was pregnant. I met someone while I was pregnant and we got married when Alyx was about 18 months old. He never really bonded with Alyx. Even though he promised me from the get go to love him as his own. He never did. At age 4, Alyx was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. The next year, when he was in Kindergarten he was hospitalized for the first time. Not a regular medical hospital, but a "behavioral center". Basically, a mental institution. This would be the beginning of a very long and tiresome journey. Over the next 9 years, Alyx would reside in "residential treatment facilities" way more often than he would at home. He was also diagnosed with several other disorders and put on every medication under the sun. Alyx also experienced some childhood trauma, abuse, and neglect. He and his baby sister spent several months in foster care while I tried to get my life together. I sucked at being a mom. I had a horrible example. I spent more time trying to find a man than I did on being there for my kids. Just like my mom before me. Alyx paid a heavy price for my stupidity.
At age 12, Alyx inappropriately touched his then 9-year-old sister. Alyx had been sexually abused a few years earlier by one of my many boyfriends. That's not an excuse. I'm not trying to use it as one. Alyx was removed from my home and placed in the custody of the state and of course put back into a residential treatment facility. I want to stop right here and say beyond a shadow of a doubt, from the deepest depths of my heart and soul, I HATE DHS!!! I had dealt with DHS in some capacity or another for 9 years. They may think they are trying to help, but more often than not, they suck. What happened next is still kind of a blur. Court dates, therapy, evaluations, meeting upon meetings upon meetings. It was a really difficult time in my life. I was struggling with my own depression and anxiety, watching my marriage fall apart, trying to figure out how the hell all of this happened and what to do next. I had 2 children at home I needed to be strong for and think of. I had decisions to make, hard ones. My husband at the time could care less. He was no help at all. He actually made things worse. He never really cared for Alyx anyway. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my husband had done some awful things to the kids as well. And he was slightly abusive to them. I felt I was suffocating from all the chaos, pain, and heartache. So I decided to go home. I was currently living nearly 3000 miles away from my family. So I separated from my husband and took my other 2 kids and left.
Saying goodbye to Alyx was hard. I had no clue at the time how long it would be before I would see him again . I haven't seen him since that day and that was 6 years ago. If I had known that then, I would have visited him way more often in those last few weeks. The plan was always for the reunification of the family. For Alyx to be returned home. That's what DHS said. And they made that hard, then they made it impossible. Two years after Alyx was removed from the home, I was forced to terminate my parental rights to him. I'm not going to talk about that in detail because it still hurts. It was a horrible time in my life. For the next two years, all contact between me and Alyx was removed. By the courts' thanks to DHS. But then finally a compassionate DHS worker was assigned the case. She called me one day out of the blue and things changed. I was allowed to have contact with my son. We were allowed to have a relationship again and work on our issues. It was rocky at first. The previous DHS worker had filled Alyx's head with lies. I'll just leave it at that. So I expected things would get better. They didn't of course, this ain't a fairytale. Alyx began running away from every place they put him. Residential facilities and group homes. He would stay gone out on the streets hanging with other homeless people for a bit then he'd be found or turn himself in and the cycle would start again. At one point I was told, they were running out of places that would take him since he was such a flight risk. Then he went to juvie. Then a few county jails. And we are almost back to the beginning of the story.
Earlier this year, Alyx was released from county jail and put on 6 months probation. Like I said earlier, it lasted 3 weeks. One night after work, Alyx went back to his old stomping grounds (the streets), got high and picked up a 13-year old runaway. He took her back to his apartment at the halfway house and had sex with her. He was arrested the next day. He was charged with Sexual Assault of a Minor. It has a heavy sentence. He was given 2 different plea arrangements to choose from. Both sucked and both included the 4-year probation. He chose the one with the lesser sentence should he fail the probation, but this one included him registering as a sex offender. So in late September of this year, he was released from the county jail to begin his probation. He had met with his probation officer once or twice, he had obtained a place to stay and was on the waiting list for a better place, had a few job prospects, had gotten a bike for transportation, and was approved for food stamps and Medicaid. All in 6 days!!! I was proud of him. He was showing initiative. I had faith in him that he could do this, or at least give it a hell of a try. But something changed or maybe it was there all along and I didn't know it. Either way, Alyx took off to the streets. He conveniently lost his cell phone and then missed curfew that night. He was seen a few days later out in front of a convenince store where his former roomate works at.
That was Sunday October 2nd. That was 26 days ago. That's the last piece of info I have. He is gone. 31 days is a long time. 26 days is a long time. He has usually been picked up by now. Supposedly there is a warrant out for his arrest as he violated his probation by running. But from what I gather, no one is actively looking for my son. If I wasn't nearly 3000 miles away, I would be out there every day searching. Asking strangers if they have seen him. I'd put missing posters up. I'd look because I care. Because he is my son and I love him no matter what. But instead, I have to sit here day after day and wonder and worry. And try not to go crazy from all the worst case scenarios that creep in my mind. I've even gone as far as reaching out to my much hated ex husband for help. He still lives up there and is acquainted with the area Alyx was last seen at. But he doesn't check Facebook often and therefore has not seen my desperate message. He probably won't care anyway, He never did so why should he now? But I tried, I took an active step towards finding my son. I did something. But now there's nothing else I know to do. So I sit and wait. Wait for the phone to ring with news, any news. And I put one foot in front of the other no matter how hard it is. I count the days. I fight the urge to break down crying every day. Because I have other responsibilities. I have 4 more children to take care of. I have a husband and a home. I have a life to live. So here I am 31 days and counting.
This picture was taken on his 13th birthday. I picked him up from the residential treatment facility on a day pass. I took him to I-HOP. This was the second to last time I saw him.
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