It's been a rocky end to Sophomore year for Lynn. Lots of 'hands-on' at school. Her teachers really still do not get trauma behaviors at all and are at a loss in regards to both how to understand the behavior and how to address it. That email about the hands-on situation was quickly followed by another from one of the teens in our church youth group letting me know that Lynn decided to take a provocative picture of herself in a sports bra and send it to a boy she is interested in getting to know better. The picture was not at all welcomed by the boy who is a friend of this young woman. Lynn swears she just wants to be his friend and everyone sends scantily-clad pix of themselves to others. She did, however, actually break down completely when she realized that her actions might very well mean the end of her relationship with the guy she has been dating for three months. She really did feel that fear and sorrow intensely and I have some hope that it means that maybe, just maybe, that pre-frontal cause and effect cortex may be kicking in at least a little. I thought that was enough stress for one week but no. Just a few days after those two incidents she opted to lie about being given permission to take her brother's and father's fishing gear to a school trip, and then the cherry to top off the week was when it was discovered that her brother-in-law's good knife, which had been missing for a year, was in the tackle box. As Lynn continues to swear that she knows nothing about how that knife could have come to be found there, her sister has been put in that incredibly difficult position that I know well. Does she choose to support her husband, who is absolutely furious that Lynn would steal his knife, or her sister who she well knows struggles immensely with this challenge. It would be easy to say that she doesn't have to choose - but just accept and love them both, but in real-time, that is not how it feels. I know. It is a conundrum I wrestle with daily.
And on other notes - no, I mean no movement on Cheyann. Still in Savannah. Still treading water. She will be 18 in November. That terrifies me.
