It's yet another nervous breakdown. I've been so strong recently, have been able to handle the mess that is my life. But it finally got to me, I guess. And Sproing is a major contributor to my insanity, as usual. I think he's getting worse. He refuses to do what he needs to, is rude to me, argues about every single thing I say. Some may say that's fairly normal for a 13 year old, but I say thee nay. I know normal 13 year old behavior, and this is much more intense than normal. He's a very intense young man.
His social worker was here Monday evening. I told him about some shit that went down with Sproing Monday morning, and I lost it. Anxiety attack. Crying, wringing my hands (really? isn't that cliche? It's a nervous reaction, no joke). And I've been on edge ever since. Every little thing sends me into anxiety mode.
Oh, and Sproing was acting out with his oppositional behavior in full fury. That was the first time the social worker had ever seen him in full blown mode. He was surprised.
I was able to get in to see my therapist this afternoon. She suggests we give the boy two options: take medication willingly and without fuss (because right now he refuses to take any meds) or go back to the psychiatric treatment facility. I will discuss that with Superman this evening after supper.
I called the agency that directs the boy's mental health care, talked to one of those ladies. Told her what's going down. Told her that he's driving me over the brink. She asked a few questions, I told her a few things that probably didn't make sense because I don't make much sense when I'm in anxiety mode. Then she suggested, very nicely, that perhaps I should have my meds adjusted. ... Wait. What? Sproing can go willy-nilly doing whatever he damn well pleases regardless of what his parents say, and I'm the one who is the problem? Yeah, I have a problem with that, thankyouverymuch. If I were stronger I'd have told her how insulting that is. I was, however, strong enough not to immediately burst into tears.
I'm confused. Can't make simple decisions. Keep forgetting stuff. Get nervous and flighty when I have to talk to someone. Can not concentrate. And I'm so damned depressed. Everything I see looks dismally depressing. I asked Light this afternoon if I enjoyed Indianapa, because I don't remember. She said I seemed to. From my current perspective everything is dismal, even my memories. I hate depression.
If there was more I planned to say I don't remember.
5 comments:
that sums it up nicely; you did a good job.
Winston Churchill - who stranger to depression - said when you are in hell you keep walking until you are no longer in hell. So keep going and day by day things will sort out somehow.
Hang in there; we are here.
I think you need to get away and play with your clay or go see some art. Is there an art museum or gallery near your house? I hope you get better soon.
Sorry to hear Java. Sending you some really strong, awesome vibes!
Very good suggestions from the 'above comments!
But you are a smart woman and know what you have to do. Maybe he has to have some 'time-out' away from you guys to really appreciate what you have done for him. It will give you time to relax and reflect and get your 'head' back. and maybe he will learn a thing or two....that he HAS to meet you at least part of the way. I don't care what his problems are....we all have problems. Now wouldn't health professionals have a field day with my comment?! Good luck.
I'm sorry I'm late to the game here, but more sorry you got pushed right up to the edge. I think as you described things, you handled everything fine. Don't forget to breathe.
Post a Comment