I don't think that there is enough focus on the amount of grieving that adopters need to do and how continual that will be in the training. It feels like death by a thousand cuts, because it can feel like you slowly but surely give up anything and everything that isn't focused on the children. I remember swearing blind that I wouldn't give up work, that I could balance work and childcare. I would just travel with them. No way was I going part time. And then... my kids happened, and my career faltered and has now essentially vanished- all the contacts and networks I made, all my reputation has pretty much gone, and I've had to take a much lower position and go part time. I have had to and am still grieving that.
In the same way, I also thought holidays away would be a blast, but they are so, so incredibly difficult, and I do grieve that idea of family life that I once had. At the moment we have the capacity to physically wrestle ours into doing what we need them to do so that we can do stuff like get to the ferry on time, make them leave somewhere if they are dysregulated or generally move them to and fro. Yes still, we only go to places where we can heavily regulate their environment and our capacity to provide as much structure and similarity to home as we can whilst still feeling like we have, you know, been on holiday. But there will come a time when we can't do that and their behaviour will be too dangerous, and if that happens then I know that even a basic holiday will be too much to achieve. We have just managed to get away, but on the ferry home it was patently obvious that our kids were struggling. They experienced one other disruptive child early on and that was enough for us to have 5 hours of absolute carnage. All these other parents were complaining about how their child was a bit upset because little Tabitha had sulked a bit when she was told to come back and sit at the table for their stone baked pizza, and I'm there pinning down a screaming 4 year old for the 3rd time because he started hitting other kids when they tried to play with "his" blocks in soft play, stopping him from punching me in the face and trying to choke me, after dragging bag full of snacks and games up 4 flights of stairs because the idea he would eat a sandwich is absolutely laughable and I know he hasn't eaten all day, he needs a poo but is refusing to go which drives him barmy, and all the tactics we have are exhausted. Its all we can do to bring ourselves to follow him when he eventually writhes free and try to stop him going out on the deck and climbing on the railings. It was non stop 5 hours of public meltdown after melt down, which his little brother then joined in because why the hell not, apparently all bets were off at this point. All this in front of an audience of the entire ferry. Not just the bit we were sat in, because they had to run away, so that the whole boat saw us chasing them, dragging them back away from the outside deck, stopping them going into the shop and grabbing fistful of the complimentary chocolates that were there and not eating them, no, but throwing them up in the air like confetti and laughing maniacally.
And that was just the ferry. Don't get me started on some of other parts of the holiday. France is a stunning country, but I don't think that they are necessarily set up for kids like ours. We underestimated how badly we needed parks to regulate, preferably ones that didn't have gravel (yes, gravel, lovely, throwable gravel) as the landing surface, and how important having normal plain bread would be to our morning routine. What I wouldn't have done for a loaf of hovis on the final day....
Don't get me wrong, there were absolutely elements of the holiday that were lovely, and we made memories that we will cherish for ever etc etc, but thats not the point of this thread, is it? The problem is, I'm there thinking that ok, he is nearly 5 now, and the signs are that this element of his personality isn't going to get much better very quickly. I remember reading once that a parent with young children with significant SEND should savour the time as babies because the gap is only going to widen as their peers develop, and watching him in the playroom acting the same way an 18 month old does because he is tired and overstimulated, but unable to accept care or boundaries without being forced to, I'm ashamed to think about how applicable that seemed, albeit for an SEMH SEN. What would have been acceptable for the many teeny tiny tots was not for him. As someone who once travelled widely and had hoped for my children to do the same, it's another grief and blow to realise how much they struggle with it at the moment and how much more will have to be done and considered to keep them safe for it to be possible in the future. If it continues, going away will simply not be possible, which is the situation it seems like you are currently in. And you are allowed to be angry at that- you probably wanted to be able to go away or celebrate or have little family treats and nice things when you thought about having kids, and knowing you can't is something you are allowed to be sad and angry about.
I felt like screaming at little Tabitha's parents when they glared at me like it was my fault and I was ruining their idyllic holiday ending by having the audacity to stop my child jumping overboard. We had done everything "right"- my partner had booked the more expensive ferry in the evening so we could spend the day exhausting the boys (swimming, walks, beach time), we fed them before we got on (plain bread, cucumber, plain crackers, ice lollies, all the right sensory foods for them), told them what was going to happen, reminded them of the soft play rules, took their tablets, sticker books, sat close to the play area and obnoxiously took up space so that they weren't over crowded (although tbf they partially did that themselves when they got the screaming heebie jeebies and started siren wailing). We took on their favourite foods, brought their blankets so they could snuggle, did a round of the ferry, took them to the arcade, brought their ear defenders. Were infinitely patient and theraputic with all the meltdowns... and it still didn't work. I was furious with all these other families whose parents got to sit down and drink their coffee and just send their kids into the play area and then call them out and sit and eat food that they had bought and hadn't had to pack and heave up stairs so that it was exactly the right thing.
At the moment we are lucky enough that we have the capacity to do holidays, but we are definitely doing as much as we can now whilst we can power through because who knows whether they will cope in the future? And by the sounds of it, the frustration and anger you are feeling might partly be because of the grief over what should be some nice times and what should happen. Its all very well and good for other people to try to commiserate, but they haven't had to try and do it, or experience what it sounds to me like you have- a slow whittling away of what can be achieved each holiday until you realise its so vastly different to what it should originally be.
I can offer a hand hold and a commiseration. And a tiny complimentary chocolate that got thrown into my face by a 4 year old that I accidentally on purpose snuck into my pocket, if that helps.