I Am Trying You Know

"I am trying. I know you don't see it, but I am."   After some initial excitement about the possibility of Job Corps as the next logical step, Cheyann has now decided that it isn't for her. Unfortunately, the one job prospect that was on the table also fell through, and to make things even more complicated once she officially graduates from high school in June she is no longer eligible for the group home where she now resides. So, if no Job Corps, then what? Her bio dad is still hovering around but will soon return to his job in another state. He would like for her to go with him so he could continue to help her transition to "adulthood" and stay relatively stable, but she doesn't want to go. I do see that she is trying. She has made some decent strides in the year since she has been back in her home state, but real life is rearing it's head and she is just about out of time. She somehow still thinks that she can just pick up and find a job somewhere and hang out with others her age in some random apartment. At this point most I can do is to continue to offer her what I think are the best options for this time in her life. And pray that she can find her way.

How Do You Know If Your Child Is Lying?

Answer: Her mouth is open.

 I remember the first time I heard this "joke". Cheyann's respite provider shared it with me one day when I was feeling particularly discouraged about her ongoing inability to be truthful. Miss Goldie knew what she was talking about. She had adopted a young girl with Reactive Attachment Disorder herself and had lots of experience with this particular challenge. Back then I felt like it was a funny exaggeration. Lately - not so much.

Lynn has been on the waitlist for Driver's Ed for almost a year now and her number finally came up. Her first class was yesterday. She came home talking details about the class and I assumed all was good, but today I received the message that she never actually showed up. She SWEARS she was in the room, just in the back where nobody could see her - but not only did she not sign the check- in form, she didn't pick up her folder either, and to top it all off a teacher saw her at a local restaurant in town during Drivers Ed time, but even with all of that information presented, she still maintains her story.

A few hours after chatting with the school team about that situation this morning I received an email from my mom. Over the weekend Lynn told her grandmother that she had never actually received her birthday card with check that MaMa sent her, so a replacement $20 was given. Somehow that missing $20 was cashed last week (when I was on vacation) and so Lynn ended up receiving it twice. The $20 sent by her Aunt for her birthday was also mysteriously 'stolen' from her at school and the $20 I took for myself for spending money for the weekend also mysteriously disappeared from my wallet. Naturally she knows nothing about any of that.

Exhausting.

Fill Your Own Cup?

I love to travel. It really is one of my favorite things to do in life and the one activity almost guaranteed to provide me with much needed rest and relaxation. And - every good  therapist is sure to remind those of us who are tasked with the job of raising traumatized kiddos that we have to make sure we fill our own cups so we are able to do the best parenting job we can do, right?  So, with all of that in mind I have been very mindful over the last few years to be sure to include on my schedule at least one good vacation trip. The problem is, my vacations inevitably trigger severe attachment-related behavioral reactions in Lynn. The last time I went away on a short vacation was the time she disappeared and ran away to her bio mom's house. This time, I returned, from a wonderful cruise in the Caribbean,  to a 1am knock on the door from our local police officers who were asked to make a well-child check on Lynn due to some suicidal ideation activity on her Snapchat. As I dug into that some more I found out that not only had she expressed interest in drinking a bottle of cough syrup, she also had shared with a young man she met at a church dance that if he told anyone that she tried to kiss him that she would kill herself and sent him pictures of slashed wrists (not hers) to prove it. She was able to tell me that she felt really depressed and did wonder how much medicine she needed to take so she didn't have to wake up in the morning.  We spent some time on the phone with Crisis, played with the idea of a residential treatment stay, and then checked in with her full team who had varying degrees of concern. The result: no real action or changes,  and now that I have been home for a week, she is re-regulated and back to "normal". So, yes, we do need to fill our cups, but sometimes I wonder if it's worth the drama upon the return....

Holiday Troubles

It was actually going to go down as a really good family holiday celebration until the very end- grandma Meme always gives the gift of money and one of my niece’s discovered that hers was missing. As everyone frantically searched the area she knew she had left it I went to Lynn, held out my hand and told her to give me hers. Of course she denied she took her cousin’s and complained that she now had no gift, my gut (and 12 years of experience) told me that my hunch was correct- but there is still always that shade of doubt, right?! and the damage was done. The cousin swore there was more money taken, my sister, whose daughter it was and who had opened her home for the celebration, felt violated. Again....and the rest of the night was tense- not only in the immediate family but in my relationship with my sister. Reminded once again of the insidiousness of the effects of early trauma. ☹️

A Bit Surreal

So Cheyann came home for Thanksgiving for the first time in almost three and a half years. It was all a bit surreal. In hindsight I'm grateful I was busy with all of the activities that come along with hosting such an event because the whole situation just felt odd. Cheyann was low-key and subdued. At first she felt overwhelmed because there were too many family members and then she was uncomfortable because it was too quiet when they all went home. She went outside a lot and continued to ask to take a walk. For whatever reason I asked her not to go out alone. She is 18. I'm not sure where that discomfort came from but it was real. We did manage to play some games and she was able to collect some of her belongings that had been in storage and then chatted quietly with her sister but honestly we were all relieved when her ride came to collect her. I don't know what I was expecting...

Made For TV Movie

I feel like I’m living a “made-for-tv movie.” You know that fear we all have about what might happen someday when our adopted kiddos get older? It’s really happening!! Lynn ran away from home on Friday and ended up at the home of her bio mom with whom she has been in increasingly greater contact over the last few years. Bio mom is still a mess according to her own biological relatives, who have been blowing up my phone all weekend to tell me AD is not in a good place. But in the meantime she continues to refuse to come home and although Bio mom is making some kind of effort to keep in contact with me it is becoming increasingly clear that she is not being honest about her intentions. Yes- I’ve contacted all the “authorities, and yes it’s all being documented but what a nightmare. 😧

Vicarious Trauma

I have been reading the book Tribe lately and scarily relating all too well. How sad is it that the role of foster/adoptive parent feels similar to that of a war veteran?!? The "hits" we take on a regular basis that cut to our very souls. The hypervigilance - just waiting for the next shoe to fall. The sense of despondency and the chronic fear that our children are just never going to make it through. And that sense of just being so tired. I am tired. This journey is exhausting.