What Could Have Been

Tonight, most of Cheyann's classmates are enjoying the company of each other at a Dude Ranch - the culminating field trip of their middle school years commemorating all of their many memories together. Cheyann, on the other hand, is spending this weekend on a locked down adolescent psychiatric unit eerily reminiscent of One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. While her classmates are pondering which bathing suit to wear white water rafting, she is wondering what item on her floor she can convert to a sharp, while her classmates worry about sunburns, she is worrying about how best to spin her life story in order to get the Docs to sign off on her level. While her classmates cope with sore muscles unused to horseback riding, she is coping with badly scarred limbs and an extremely bruised heart. I want to be laughing and chatting by the campfire with the other 8th grade parents, reliving fond memories and sharing the excitement of upcoming high school adventures, not wandering through the bowels of a rundown building trying to find my daughter to deliver a bag of her clothes with no ties or elastics..and maybe a few packs of gum. The contrast is wide, and my heart is aching for what this night could have been. I know that the journey we are on is a different one, but just this once, I yearn for the well-traveled path...and the campfire.

Security Guard?

Honestly, how many other parents out there, when their teenagers'  school is cancelled for the day (and their own is not) have to spend 30 minutes in "lock-down" mode before heading for work??? I KNOW they are going to break into the bedroom in all that unsupervised down-time.. so what can I tolerate knowing they are going to take, and what do I need to put in the lock box along with the matches, meds, and other more dangerous items,  because it's disappearance will just infuriate me beyond repair?  Don't forget to change the combination.. hide the Wii remote because they are not responsible with their Netflix choices, leave out some snax in the hopes that there might be something remaining in the fridge for dinner, and oh.. better make it a "bring an item along to work day" for that particular thing because that's the only place it is a surety that it will not be taken... Exhausting on all levels. I know there are probably some of you out there who  upon reading this will  determine that if things are really this bad then my 13 and 14 year old daughters should never be left home unsupervised and I should just stop being selfish and take the day off myself.. Well. Maybe so, but then call me a bad mom because I am just not willing to sacrifice the needs of the 6 clients who need my time as well just so I can play security guard to the two we "need" me at home. I'm just not going to do it..

"Driving the Ship"

Things continue to be progressing in a much more positive direction now that I have decided to take back the control of my my challenging child. We recently met with an area high school we had been considering sending her to next year, and I was surprised at how quickly and easily I was able to come to the decision that NO.. this was not the place for her. After doing some research I was able to find an unexpected avenue,  and I think we have successfully found her a landing spot and an alternative high school program that should be just right for her. Of course, every day is not a good day, but all is better overall and I can tell that as she feels more "held" and that the adults in her life feel like they are "in charge and in control"  -  she is much better able to regulate. We are moving in the right direction.

Taking Back the Reins

I had an epiphany over the weekend, and it looked something like this: My family was fast becoming something out of my control, and it was time for me to take back the reins. The feeling began back in December when Cheyann had the episode that brought her to her needed first residential stay. We had already been working with many professionals and agencies, and this only brought in more. I think we have this idea in our society that if one "helper" is good, then more must be better, but I have come to discover personally that this just isn't so, and for Cheyann, it was a disaster and directly resulted in January being a month of high chaos. I could share so many details but I really don't want to re-live it all. Suffice it to say that if the Department of Children and Families is called in and they tell you directly to protect yourself from the Agency personnel in your life.. it's a good sign that things are out-of-whack. I re-evaluated. I prayed. I studied a bit more and I re-wrote Cheyann's plan - cutting out a great many services and strategies that I believe were, in the end, just making things worse. It was liberating, and for now, it is working. I think that for this child who is flashing us some Borderline Personality tendencies - the overall message that she so needed to hear from us right now was: "we are your parents and we are in control."  Everyone else can either be on board with the plan, or not. I am ok with either right now.

Somebody Else's Crazy Life

And so.. one of those things I never thought would really ever happen in our family happened. Cheyann had a major mental health crisis involving scissors, knives, running away, crisis, police and rescue intervention landing her, by the end of it all, in an emergency bed in a residential treatment facility. Looking back now, the whole situation was just plain surreal. More than once I felt like I was in a movie watching somebody else's crazy life. The 10 days she was there felt a lot like the time I spent 15 years ago at the Boston Children's Hospital as my son Donald underwent open heart surgery. There was a sense of living in a tunnel.. day-to-day and one step at a time. Unreal. She made it home in time for the holidays and we actually navigated those relatively well - with the help of my oldest, Melissa, who we flew home for the holidays with her husband. So.. did it all help? Hmm.. I guess I'm not sure yet. As January moves along I am seeing some signs of concern and I worry.

Flying Monkeys and Chairs

So Cheyann just completed a relatively successful drama season. There were members of the team very leery as to whether or not she could handle it, but as far as we can see, no major fall-out happened and she was able to make some good peer connections and build a bit of self esteem engaging in a developmentally normalized activity. And that flying monkey costume was kind of awesome..(I won't delve into the symbolic thoughts that ran through my mind with that casting call ;p) But.. we are feeling the fall-out now. The weekend was horrible. So much hostility, anger, oppposition and even some downright dangerous behavior has left me emotionally exhausted on this Monday morning, wondering how I ever let myself get into the situation where I feel like I am living in an emotional battle zone, experiencing the exact same effects that someone who is living in a home with dometic violence would feel. As a social worker, I would be counseling someone in the DV situation to be strong enough to free themself from that damaging relationship.. but we can't do that when the abuser is our own child. And so we just keep pushing forward,  hoping and praying that the prevention we put in place and the positive connections we build will somehow keep the nasty at bay. It works sometimes. And when it doesn't work..... well... it doesn't.

Judge not......

The following quote from Joyce Maynard, an adoptive mom who had to struggle through an adoption- disruption, hit me deeply:


"I believe it is possible to heal deep, deep wounds. But the people who are equipped to do it had better have deep, deep reserves themselves to struggle through some hard times. And I've struggled through a lot of them. But I wasn't, finally, the person who was going to be able to bring them through. And I see my role as the person who got them to the people who can."


Listen to her story here:  http://hereandnow.wbur.org/2013/10/09/maynard-adopted-children