Ravings of a BiPolar Gothic Witch
     Occasional commentary, observations and tidbits as well as other random thoughts

I need to write so badly, but for one of the few times in my life words escape me. This week has been hell and it is only Wednesday. Monday was Squire Steve’s funeral. I was never so proud to be a part of a group as I was as we rode in bike formation to the funeral. I imagine that it was a shock to “all the good church goin’ folks” but it felt good to send him off in style. Even more it was good to see T, his significant other, mount her bike and ride with the club. It was a tremendous statement for herself and her lost love.

Yesterday, however, things went to hell quickly. Last night right when I got to campus for class I got a call from my daughter. M has been fighting increasing symptoms over the last week, which is ironic because as of Thursday the communications coming from school seemed to be fairly positive, and he had adjusted some to me being gone M-W and wasn’t throwing fits quite as much. He was still crying very easily, which I guess should have told me something. Friday he had an episode so bad that his before care teacher and the school counselor were not sure if he had dissassociated and wasn’t there. He spent the entire day outside the school psychologist’s office doing his work because he was unable to attend class. I talked to him that day and learned that actually Mark had been struggling more than the teacher had written, and that things had been rough.

The weekend and Monday seemed ok, no real big incidents. Then there was last night. M tried to choke himself to death with a jump rope, and was violent towards everyone in the house, and locked himself in his room and wouldn’t respond. K called me and didn’t know what to do. As I found out the things he had done, I had her remove the door knob from his door and she said it was kind of creepy because he was just sitting there watching the door. I was terrified he was hurting himself in his room. Things got worse and obviously I came home. I called his psychologist and he advised that M needed to go to the emergency room.

By the time I had gotten home, he had calmed down, and was in fact pretty tired (a fact that the clinician at childrens’ said happens a lot). We waited in the Children’s emergency room while they evaluated him and decided to admit him. I have experience at childrens’ and it was a good one with my older son. They had a bed we were set. Then she found out we had Kaiser. Apparently unless there are no beds at their “hospital of choice” he would not be allowed to be at Childrens. A new hospital was an unknown. I was not happy. I got even less happy as we waited 2 hours for an ambulance transfer as M got more and more tired (it was 11 before they showed up). Mel came and was with me in the hospital. Another friend called from work to ask what she could do, letting me know she would do all she could around her work. That meant a lot to me. It made me realize very quickly who really cares about me.

Mel and I followed the ambulance to the other hospital. It was scary. It looked like a prison. Children’s is bright and happy and the staff are caring and informed no matter what time you end up there. There was one nurse, and she knew nothing. I signed nothing. She told me to call back after 8 am and I could get information. I left feeling like I’d abandoned my baby.

After talking to his psychologist who assured me it was a good hospital and that I shouldn’t worry, I felt better. I talked to his social worker (coordinator for his case) and felt better, although I can only see him for 1 hour a day. When I showed up tonight however, I learned that that wasn’t such a hard fast rule. There are not that many kids and I could have stayed a little longer. But honestly, I am so exhausted from last night (I didn’t go to sleep until at least 2:30 am and had to get up at 6 am to work) that I couldn’t stay any longer any way. I know tomorrow will be better. And also the meeting that is scheduled should give me an idea of the game plan for his treatment, the anticipated length of his stay, etc etc. The staff was caring tonight, and while I wasn’t as impressed as I was with childrens’ I think it’s ok.

So I live from hour to hour with the pain of hearing that my little boy, only 9 years old wanted to die. There is no other hell. I also live with the fact that in spite of everything, ultimately we are alone to bear our sorrows and pain, and that sometimes understanding the reality of our relationships with other people takes crisis and events and seeing who is there for us and who isn’t. I gained insight and understanding and got clarity last night, and while it was painful, at least I feel like I’m more in reality, which is a good thing. The truth is that I don’t have time, energy or emotion to deal with anything other than what is going on with Mark. That what help is offered I will use, but ultimately it is up to me, and me alone, to make sure I take care of myself. There are no other adults in my life who will be stepping in to make sure I eat, or sleep or take my meds. And I’m not good at that. I’ve forgotten my medicine 2x in a row now. I do not want to eat (it makes me ill) and tonight I’m going to have to take a sleeping pill even though i feel as if i have no energy.

I’m also dealing with the impacts that this has on my life. M declined because for the last 2 years, while we were poor, I was able to survive on what I got from Alpine, child support and school loans. This allowed me to stay home with him until he went to school, most nights when he got home and was around for the evenings. Since I got the job, I’m not able to be home with him, I can’t arrange my schedule to accomodate his medical needs, and he is suffering for it. Basically when The Ex cut off child support, he left me no choice but to leave that behind and force Mark into a situation that made him worse. It also means that for this semester I have to again give up school. And again, the reality is that I may not get to go back for a while. Until he is older and less fragile.

I have a lot of anger from being alone. From having to give up my dreams (even if it’s temporary). I am scared to death for M’s future, and whether he will have a rough growing up. If he will ever truly grow up, or if he will face difficulty all his life. Exhaustion, fear, desolation, absolute loneliness, and so many other emotions have overwhelmed me. I have no ability to cope, no ability to feel. I alternate between sobbing, and completely shutting down. Today to deal with work, I shut down. I cut off my feelings. It worked. And it will work again tomorrow. I can get through this even if I’m all alone.

However, on a bright note. I am not completely alone. Mel just called to check on me. She made me promise to finish this and go to bed. I’ve eaten so I’m going to. And I guess I found words after all.

Technorati Tags: Child’s mental illness, bipolar, parenting a mentally ill child