Before I post this update, I wanted to thank you all that have offered love and support on other threads that I've posted my situation with my difficult child. All the words of encouragement and empowerment, advice on detaching, they all seemed to be given to me at just the exact moment. difficult child and I had a big fight yesterday about him destroying his iphone and he also took some type of pill - I could tell by his being so out of it. I tried spraying water on his face but it only annoyed him. So in order to keep my sanity and peace, I let him sleep. My 10 yr easy child son and I went about our evening routines. I finally get to bed after midnight. I awaken at 4 am to sounds of loud banging and doors slamming. I knew it was my difficult child. The beast had awoken from his slumber. I was scared what I would find going on when I opened his door, but I opened it and he was dressed like he was ready to go for a jog. Hoodie, shorts (it's been 30 degrees here). When he turned to look at me, he looked like a crazy man, expressionless face, blank stare, it scared me. I asked him what he was doing and he said looking for his keys. I told him I had taken them. I asked what he was doing and said he was going for a "jog". I said well you can't have the keys. He got upset and used profanity and walked angrily past me and out the door. I locked it behind him. It was 4:30am at this point. I didn't know what to think of what had just happened. He had left his wallet, with his ID and the few bucks he had, all his clothes and possessions left in his room. And it was starting to rain at this point. It was all a middle-of-the-night blur. Needless to say I couldn't go back to sleep. Finally I decided to wake up little one and go about our day, trying hard to detach myself from this situation and go to work. As I got myself and little one dressed, I really hoped that difficult child would NOT return before we left for school/work. I hated to feel that way, but I didn't want him in my home at all. But sure enough,right as he knew we would soon be leaving, he showed up knocking. Wet, shivering, barefoot and holding his muddy shoes. I just let him in, I didn't even have time to think about anything, it was raining, my dog was going crazy, I just let him in. Well.. what ended up happening in the next hour was horrible. He was in my face saying Eff You (but used the real words) and he threw a dining room chair across the room. He didn't like what I was saying when I accused him of taking something last night. He denied taking anything, said he was just sleepy. I know better. Basically, he continued being in my face and using profanity (which he had never gone to these lengths before), I told my little one to go to my room and wait, we would go to school shortly, but difficult child busted in my bedroom door yelling that easy child should "effin hear this", he wanted little one to see hi like that. Horrible. I finally had to push hi out of my personal space as he would not let me walk by. I had never felt fear like that before. I told him I was going to call 911 and he taunted me to do so. But then he calmed down and went to his room. I knew this was it. That was the last straw. He had to go. A line had been crossed. I had never felt so fearful of my own child. And seeing the crazed look in his eye. And involving little one into the situation, even when he could see I was trying to sheild him from it. I'd had it. I quickly took my little one to school (luckily it's only right around the corner). Came right back, difficult child still sitting there calmly, thinking. And then it happened. I WENT OFF. Something snapped in me. All the anger, all the pain and suffering and worrying I had felt the entire past 2 years of dealing with this, all the hurt and disappointment, all the trying to keep it together and be patient and loving, all that just went Poof in that very instance. I told him he had to go. That I could no longer help him. And I found myself using words and phrases that I have been told and advised about on this website. I have been enabling him, he is choosing these things, he's never had to fight or work for anything, all has been given to him, and now I am done with all that. He needs to find somewhere else to live. I will not give him money, rides anywhere, nothing. He should have appreciated all of the countless opportunties that have been handed to him on a silver platter the past 2 years. But he hasn't. He destroys things that people purchase for him. He shows no respect for anyone in this house and he is no longer welcome to live here. It shocked him, and it shocked ME. But I held my ground. I didn't cry (surprising myself, as I usually cry at the drop of a hat at the slightest bit of emotion involving difficult child). But I didn't shed a tear. I looked like I meant business. And I did. He tried to sound calm and say he would try and find a job now, but he would need time. I said NO, too late. Go do that on your own time. Figure it out. So by a miracle, he seemed to accept this, and he went to his room and spent the next hour taking all his clothes out of drawers and off hangers and I could see froma distance that he was folding them neatly into a duffle bag. I heard him unpluggin all his electronics, removing things from walls, he took a few things and threw them in the dryer (I guess his wet clothes), and loaded it all up into his car. I heard him sifting though paperwork, keeping some things, throwing others on the floor, I heard him in the bathroom getting all his tootbrush, hairbrush, body sprays.. Suprisingly, as he hasn't used any of the stuff lately. But as I kept in the kitchen, listening out for his every next move, I started to feel an amazing sense of relief and peace. This was really finally happening. Maybe this really needed to happen this way. Because had it not been so traumatic and semi-violent, I probably would have allowed him to stay - thus continuing the enabling. No, it had to get this upsetting for me to finally realize that it's time for him to go. I wasn't expecting some big dramatic goodbye hug or speech, and sure enough it didn't happen. I gave him the car key, I had to back out my car, as I was parked behind him, and he got in his car and drove off. I walked back in the house. Quiet house. I walked in his room. Completely empty. I know it hasn't hit me yet. Even as I type this, I haven't yet cried about it. I know it will come. I know the void will hit me like a thunder bolt. Maybe not tonight, or tomorrow. But it will hit me. I am prepared for it. I am also prepared that I may see him waiting on my doorstep any day now. He knows our routine, the times we come and go. I am prepared to NOT letting him back in. It's all changed now. I saw a side of him I do not ever want to see again, or for little one to see.Little one needs me to make this happen. Little one needs a happy and stable home. He needs me to be the happy and cheerful little mama I used to be, 2 years ago, before the difficult child ordeal began. I have made sure all windows, doors, garage are locked. I know I need to follow through with this. But I am glad it happened. It took somethign this horrible, for me to do it. To kick out my child. Knowing he has no friends, no money, no job, no mental capacity to get a job. I know all this. He may end up losing the car, losing his stuff, on the streets. I am slowly preparing myself for all these possiblities. But for now, as I sit here.. I feel calm and I think I'm okay. It's amazing that I just joined this site late last week and I received all of the support that I needed, and now this happened. God pointed me here, to receive encouragement and strength to prepare for this day. I thank you all and I will keep posting. As this is now the beginning of an entirely new journey. Letting go, detaching completely, and bring back all that faith that has been wavering for 2 years. Hugs!