So he gets home from school today at 4 and goes into his room. The pizza comes at 5:30 and he's sitting at the table eating two pieces. He eats the crust which the orthondontist told him not to eat and we have a braces poster on the frig of what can't be eaten, and crust is one of them. Braces are expensive and fixing them bit by bit on top of that is more so. So I say don't eat the crust. He says he's hungry, but doesn't want another piece of pizza and gives the rest of the crust to the dog. I take him upstairs and he goes back in his room. A few minutes later daughter and I heard weird thumping sounds. I go up and he's just standing in the middle of his room, everything looks fine. "What's going on." "I'm angry." "WHat do you have to be angry about?" "I'll eat too much and my stomache will rip." His voice breaks in desperation and his face turns red and tears start falling. "It'll rip and I'll die. I don't want to die." "Two pieces of pizza aren't going to make your stomache rip." "It will, it will." "I thought you said you were hungry." "I am but if you feed me too much my stomache will rip." Suddenly I notice on his bed a stack of fan blades. I look up. The ceiling fan is spinning without any fan blades. "Did you do that." "Yes because I'm angry. Those pills don't make me depressed they make me go straight to angry." (the week before last difficult child said he doesn't want to take them, they make him feel weird. Last week he asked to take more of them.) "What is you dad going to say." "I don't care. Awesome for him. Awesome for him. Awesome for him." I shut the door. I'm shaking. I hope husband is on his way home. I can't call him on the cell phone because difficult child destroyed it. I hope he doesn't go shopping like he sometimes does after work. I'm shaking and not sure why. It's all quiet upstairs. I wish husband would come home. I wish he'd take difficult child to the hospital. But difficult child's not out of control. So they won't do anything. What can they do? There's not to do. He has both a psychiatrist and therapist appointment next week. I'll insist husband tell them both. When difficult child said, "I'm angry", his face was scary. I wish husband would come home.