On a good day, parenting will test the integrity of your character. On a bad day, parenting will test your will to live. Parenting children with trauma histories will cause you to test the integrity of everything and everyone you thought you knew, for the rest of your life.
~J. Skrobisz

Friday, June 10, 2011

speaking volumes without saying a word

My lilies aren't blooming, they been choked out bythe weeds I didn't tend to.  My roses have stopped too.  Probably owing to the severe drought conditions.  I didn't even bother with my tomatoes this year, I had a feeling it would be a scorcher and therefore my tomatoes would have been money lost, not a bounty of fruit for the effort.  Our backyard looks like a wasteland.  I'm afraid if we tried to mow the weeds, it would catch fire.  I'm afraid if we rake the pine straw, there will be nothing but dirt left on the ground. I haven't even filled my humming bird feeders. In this dry heat, the ants will be horrendous.

But today I hung a door for the first time. AB and WG have earned back doors with locks, a privilege that was revoked seven years ago when Sissy and AB, then 4 and 3 in their various stages of delayed development and mental health concerns, were slamming the doors and injuring a crawling WG. Curtains have been up ever since. With the return of Sissy approaching fast, my immediate resolve was to provide protection and a sound barrier for AB and WG. The new safety plan is for them to go to their rooms and lock the doors. I have the pin to unlock their doors from the outside. Tomorrow I'll hang the other door. That's a lot of work! Plus I was afraid the power screw driver would run out of battery life before I was done hanging the second door.

Many phone calls, many notes, many, many things to do and appointments to schedule. With Sissy gone, my phone never rang. With Sissy's return, it hasn't stopped. Everyone wants to talk about Sissy. Which is ironic, because I don't.

The hospital says they can't send her home to no services. They did their research. Said, "gosh, you weren't kidding, you really don't have services there. Can you move?"

Seriously. *crickets chirping as I stare them down and blink once in five minutes*

Thus, so it isn't written in the documentation that we are non compliant parents, we are returning to IFI and CBAY waiver, even though they were in effective last year. Do I want to do this? Heck no. Do I see the point? Heck no. Do I want some social worker riding my butt because I refused an "available mental health service" for my child? Heck no. Do I really want to tell one more team of therapists all about my daughter's history? Heck no. Do I even care at this point? Heck no. What choice do I have? Surrendering rights, the other option the hospital gave us? Heck no. In this state that is NOT a good idea.

I can't think. I'm numb. My heart is breaking. My anti-anxiety meds didn't work last night and I was unable to sleep because I was panicky all night. My greatest concern is that the four of us haven't recuperated enough to deal with Sissy's issues. I'm afraid it will push me over the edge. I'm afraid it won't matter to mental health professionals managing her case.

I've never let my yard look so pitiful. The visual representation of my home and my despondency about things I typically love and revel in, speaks volumes.

5 comments:

Cyndi said...

This run around everyone gets with trying to get services for these kids is so crazy. The only hope is that some day maybe someone will figure out that we parents do know what we are doing and what we are talking about and them things can happen that will actually make a difference. I hope you can hang in there!

The Lundys said...

(((((((hug)))))) Wish I (or anyone!) could help!

Jennifer said...

Sending lots more healing energy and virtual hugs from Rhode Island.

I read your story and wish I was there to give you a real hug.

Barb G said...

(((((hugs))))) I'm sorry. Like Jennifer, I wish I could be there to give you a hug.

waldenbunch said...

You have such a crowd of ladies supporting you yet feeling helpless because we can't fix it. Just like you can't fix your daughter. But you are supported and loved and appreciated for all you do to educate others and prevent these same crises happening to their families. It'll work out. You are one tough broad and it doesn't go unnoticed.