I feel guilty/terrible for even feeling this way, but my difficult child has been at the Residential Treatment Facility (RTF) for 3 weeks now and I don't miss him. I even hate saying that, but it's true. The past year has been SO MUCH hell, that it's nice to have a "normal" day. He changed so much over the past 2-3 years that I don't even feel like "that" was my son. I feel like my son left back then and this stranger invaded our home. I feel terrible for thinking it, but I'm glad the stranger is gone. I pray every night that it is my son that returns. It's been so nice to not have to walk on eggshells. I haven't had to hide my wallet or keep my knives hidden. No one has screamed or cursed at me in 3 weeks. I can actually sleep and not worry about being attacked in the night. For now, I'm not going to worry about what happens in 3-6 months when he comes home. For now, I'm going to enjoy the peace.