From a Friend

The challenges with stealing continue.. and continue...and continue. After the situation with the stolen Iphone and then the stolen IPod (and pants), next up, over Christmas,  was a stolen Fitbit.  When questioned, Lynn's response to all three, "I got them from a friend." Well, seeing as how all three pieces of electronics have now been returned to their rightful owners, her friend pool is dwindling. Sadly, as much as we understand where the stealing behaviors stem from, those friends do not, and will not. Friends can flex so much.

Thank You for the Candy Cane

Every year I re-experience the void of emotions that is Lynn as she opens gifts. Actually, it is more than once a year, because the same thing happens on her birthday, or any time she receives something from someone who gives it in love. I don't really know if it is because she just can't feel excitement or gratitude, or doesn't realize she can't show it, but the reality is that her deadpan expression as she quickly unwraps and puts aside her gifts without a single trace of a smile or word of thank you is not only unsettling, after 10 years of trying to help teach her a better way, it can also be enraging. And so another year goes by and I forget again until the next one. But this year was particularly poignant because of the addition of my grandson Enoch to the picture. As Christmas morning dawned and it was time for gift opening, Melissa and I opted to share the experience with one another via texting pictures so we could be together that way. Her first text: "He is taking Christmas morning slowly and sweetly. He focused on his candy for 10 minutes and now he is focused on 2 Leggo men (he still has 6 more to unwrap) and he has yet to open anything else."  By contrast, Lynn flew threw her gifts in less than 5 minutes and I honestly don't even remember most of what she opened because she had moved them aside before I could even catch up with what she was doing, and as usual she didn't remark on anything. I think I would have been able to stay at resigned, though, if not for the message from Melissa that came through minutes later with a picture of sweet Enoch on the phone. He was trying to call Jesus to thank him for his candy cane. Such a stark contrast.

Peanut Butter and Jelly

Sometimes you just have to find the humor before the difficulties just completely overwhelm you.!

Lynn is currently really struggling with stealing. Last week she was caught with an Ipod and a pair of pants she took from a peer. As part of her consequences she was asked to write a letter of apology to the peer she stole from. In the letter she attempted to explain why she had chosen to steal the items and stated that she was “jelly”, (which if you don't know is teen-speak right now for jealous.)  I was feeling particularly sensitive and vulnerable this time around, probably because this situation was the third or fourth serious breach of the week, and involved colleagues of mine, so I was not feeling terribly open to hearing her ‘excuses’,  and could actually feel myself getting pulled into a depression instead. My husband, maybe reading my mood, or maybe just being his sarcastic self, after being given the interpretation of the word jelly just looked at me stone-faced and said – “maybe she’d like some peanut butter to go with that jelly. It might even help her fingers to be stickier…”. The belly laugh that it evoked it me was much needed and helped me regain perspective. I'm sure there are those who will say that it is insensitive of me to laugh when she is trying to express her feelings, and maybe it is, but the laughter was so needed.

Cowabunga

I've never actually been surfing, but I imagine the experience must have some real similarities to raising attachment-challenged children. To begin with there is the whole balance thing. It is always a battle trying to balance the needs of everyone in a family to begin with. When you factor in the executive function and social skill deficits of the attachment-challenged teens the board becomes that much smaller. And then there is the difficulty level. Surfing is not an easy sport. There are multiple skills needed to be successful as well as overall fitness and endurance. Also true for parenting these teens. But perhaps the similarity most striking to me is the wave factor. You just never really know what kind of wave you are going to get - how high it is going to be or how strong, and you have to be constantly on guard because you just can not predict when they will appear, how long they will last, or how strong they will be. So, you balance, utilize all your skills, and ride that wave. And then, you can rest for a time; always wary but at some level of peace, until the next one. And pray that there is enough time between them for you to prepare.. and catch your breath.

Chilling

“it was the same dynamic that had vexed his family and  'service providers for years'. It was the challenge of a ‘person’ who does not want to be seen as having challenges, who manipulates for advantage, who suffers severe discomforts yet seeks to create discomfort in others, who deals with distress  and disintegration by reaching for ever more forceful means of control, and who harbors, beneath all these attempts at coping and containment, a chilling rage that erupts when they fail.

 This is a quote from a book I am currently reading that is a biography of a young man who ended up killing a young woman because of his mental illness. It is a chillingly close representation of Cheyann's profile. Chilling...

Georgia

And so the decision was made and Cheyann is now in a new facility in Georgia. It was a grueling few weeks as the team continued to meet and search for the logical next step. There was no right answer. In the process, Cheyann's birth father popped back onto the scene attempting to play knight-in-shining armor coming to the rescue, accusing us of not having her best interests at heart. I mostly ignored him but it hurt a little.  We went back and forth as to whether or not we would transport Cheyann down south or have at least familiar people do so, but in the end, her behavior was sliding so much that it was deemed a severe safety risk to even attempt it and a secure transport was hired. Cheyann refused to talk to me after our one uncomfortable visit at the Retreat, and then the day she was told what the decision was she finally called me so she throw some F bombs at me and let me know that when she finally was successful at killing herself it would be my fault. As hard as it was to hear that, in some ways the anger was easier to deal with than the sadness and despair. And now that the transport has successfully delivered her, we wait to hear from this new team, and start yet another leg of this journey.

 

The Tomato Plant

When Cheyann visited with us in May she gave us a tomato plant that she had been growing in the greenhouse of her residential facility. It was small, but green and healthy and showed the results of many months of hard work and caring. As the plant grew through the summer I noted that it was beginning to wither. I tried to move it to a new location to see if that might help. It might have, a little. Some new growth was noted but by mid August when many other plants were distributing fruit, the Cheyann plant was just starting to flower. I continued to nurture the plant the best I could - making sure it had water and light and moving it around as it showed need, and it helped....some. It is now mid September and the Cheyann plant has one very small green tomato just beginning and one other flower. The problem is - we will soon get a frost here in the North Country. And so.. the only thing left to do to save the plant is to move it to a greenhouse - and the only greenhouse that can reallyl accommodate this particular tomato plant is thousands of miles away......