Monday, June 30, 2014

The Time Between

I wrote this shortly after Noah came home from the hospital. I was letting it sit overnight before I posted it. Obviously I never came back to it. 

To those of you who have commented recently asking how we are doing, and to all my other readers, thank you! Thank you for caring about us! Thank you for pushing me to update! 

This post is about how things were. I will post again about how things are. They are good! Right now things are good! I thought about just posting that, and deleting this all together, but I think it's important to know what the in between was.


If it isn't obvious to you by now, let me just put it out there.

I only come here anymore when I need to wallow. Roll around in all my drama. Like a pig in shit you might say.

There is no time to come here with the good stuff. Hell, I have half a dozen partially written posts waiting for me to finish that have nothing to do with the good stuff.

There is good stuff. There is. Kiel is full of the good stuff. And Noah has plenty of it too.

I get overwhelmed by the crap we are dealing with, and then as I start to write it down here, I feel like kicking myself in the teeth for all the damn self pity that surfaces.

For cripes sake woman. You are the mom. You don't get to fall to pieces.

Noah is doing differently since his hospitalization. I wouldn't say he is doing better however. He's full of energy and emotion, but it comes out in overwhelming ways. He's too fast. His body, his thoughts. He's defiant yet loving. Stubborn and reactive yet more connected than he has been in months.

He constantly picks on Kiel, and as I understand from his teacher, a couple of the more vulnerable kids at school.

For whatever reason, he has decided that he's going to act crazy. I guess he figures if that is what people expect from him he's going to give it to them.  

That's how I roll, he says.

He's loud, obnoxious, a step beyond just silly. He won't stop when asked. He won't lower his voice. He says really strange things.

I think it's an act. Most of it is an act. I think. I don't always know. I hope it is an act.

Last week he told me he can't stop thinking about killing me. He was helping me put away dishes and when he was doing the silverware he handed me a sharp knife and said "get this scary thing away from me." Then a few minutes later he threw himself into me for a hug, his head pressed into my chest, almost in tears. He tells me he doesn't understand why he can't stop thinking about killing me because he loves me so much and he doesn't want me to die. This was not an act.

We are on top of it. I spoke with the psychiatrist and he thinks it may be because of a recent medication addition. It freaked me out, still does actually, but I talked to him today and he said he only thought that the one day, but I probably shouldn't let him have any knives.

Last week I offended the psychologist. Well, it seemed like he was offended. Perhaps it was just irritation. I questioned him on why we were continuing to do a behavior program that wasn't working. I asked the same questions I have previously about applying behavioral modification to a child with brain damage, when the current info says it doesn't work. When our history says it doesn't work. I told Rich I can't waste my time on this when it isn't getting us anywhere. Tomorrow I will officially end our professional relationship.

I interviewed a behavior specialist (BSC) last week for Noah. I got the impression that most families don't interview prior to them taking on a case. I guess they aren't used to working with someone that has been playing this game for so long. I asked her about her education and experience. I asked about her knowledge of trauma and trauma based therapy. I asked about neuro-behavioral theory and what she knew about the brain when exposed to alcohol and when it doesn't receive appropriate care as a newborn and infant.

I found out today I scared her away.  I am not surprised.

I'm tired of spending months working with someone that doesn't understand what we are dealing with, and tries to apply traditional methods to my very non-traditional child, despite all my explanations of what we have tried in the past and what didn't work before.

Mostly though, I'm just tired. Very, very tired. Bone tired. Hard to get off the couch tired. Napping almost every day after work tired. Struggling to get even the basics around the house done tired. The stress is not just affecting my mind now, it's affecting my health.