My son is 16 and was just diagnosed with bipolar last week. He has been on meds since he was 5 for ADHD, ODD, etc. We fostered him from age 4 to age 6 when we adopted him. I am fairly certain both bio parents have major depression issues/mental health issues, along with drug/alcohol addiction. We have been through 12 years of counseling and I have been to more parenting classes and read more parenting books than I can count. I am beyond tired and frustrated at this point.

He has broken at least 6 doors in my home, numerous holes in walls, thrown furniture, smashed toys & Nintendo DS and other items. Last week he smashed his fist into the buttons for the garage door opener and now that is broken. He has broken several chairs. the cops have been called to my house several times. Last year he spent 6 months in a treatment facility and it changed nothing. A few days ago he got angry and smashed his arm into a door frame and then screamed he broke his arm. One time he did punch the refrigerator and broke his finger.

I have missed so much time from work due to counseling sessions and meetings at school. He is completely failing 10th grade and is completely shut down. Says F U and runs out the door to God knows where. Cuts class. Smokes cigarettes and pot. Comes home and goes to bed early and shuts the lights out.

he was on several different meds, including Focalin and Abilify and was now taken off everything on Friday and put on Seroquel. I know it takes a while for things to take affect but I am SO shut down right now and I feel so guilty because I hate my son. I love him but I wish "they" would take him away.

Last week he called me a "F ing Whore". He calls me "F ing Bitch" all the time and last night I was "F ing fat ass."

My husband says nothing. Even gives him what he wants. Not because he deserves it but to shut him up, keep the peace, prevent blow ups. This causes major resentment on my part as David wins. he gets his way. Even my poor dogs hide in my office on a regular basis when he loses control and starts yelling. I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I feel hopeless and helpless. he has a counselor, a state worker, a mentor, a psychiatrist. Nothing seems to be working. he does nothing around here and then yells at me and says my home is a prison.

I love him and hate him. I fear for him as he is throwing his life away. I pray that the Seroquel makes a difference. I pray I can find it in my heart to forgive him and keep going. I want to throw all of his clothes in a black trash bag and drop him off with the homeless for a week under the bridge and have him beg to come home. I feel like a horrible failure of a mother.