A phrase keeps running through my head today...turn and face the music.
Hello, Mr. Music, nice to meet you. You sound kind of...scary.
This afternoon Eldest is being discharged from partial care at the hospital. They have achieved the end of their "therapeutic usefulness". This means:
A. They can't do any more.
B. Eldest is chronic, not acute.
C. We're on our own.
D. All of the above.
If you guessed D, then you got the right answer. (You are SUCH an honor student.) D also = doggy doo doo.
We took her to her new therapist's office this morning. Again she melted down and spit hatred at me all the way to the office. (Oh, and again, just for the record, THE DECISION HAS BEEN MADE, I SHALL NEVER HAVE A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY GRANDCHILDREN. Is it bad that I just want to laugh when she says this? At least now it's water off a duck's back. Eh. Maybe I'm not that impenetrable to this kind of spew, but I'm getting there.)
The therapist--who specializes in BPD teen girls--was unfazed and held her session is the front lawn where Eldest had planted herself. I enjoyed a cup of coffee in their lovely office (they are in a restored old Victorian downtown--really, REALLY cool place) and got caught up on all the Bragelina gossip. Do you think Angelina is borderline? But I suppose I can't really rely on "In Touch" for a valid analysis of her personality, can I?
Anyhoo...then I drove her (Eldest, not Angelina) back to the hospital for her last afternoon. Thank goodness she had her iPod. She blared MDC ("My Chemical Romance") into her ears for the drive and I avoided another hate-bath. Nice ring, no? Hate bath. I like it. It's exactly what I get and what I feel like when a drive with Eldest is done.
Hmmm. So what's our plan you ask? Part of me says, I haven't a clue. But that's not true. We have a kind of plan. The doctors and the County mental health people (who I LOVE by the way...you have to be some kind of wonderful to take these jobs...but I also know we're super lucky to live in JoCo when it comes to this issue), all recommend a residential stay. I hate, HATE, HATE this idea but I grudgingly admit that it's starting to look necessary. So this is what I tell myself: "Self, you are going to send her to residential. You have given her a list of what it takes to avoid residential. Self, seriously, Eldest is having a shit-fit over most of that list and it's not like it's egregious stuff. If she can't live life that way, self, she isn't capable of living a healthy life and you've got to temporarily give her to people who know how to do help her. Self, you have to trust that your sweet girl will come back to you some day.
Self, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Music. Turn and face him.
12 comments:
Your self does know, you will do what is best for her, no matter how much it hurts and how many hate baths you take.
Just keep breathing. And know we are thinking of you all.
I am also thinking consistency. She has been bouncing all over the place with this. I would imagine she is scared to death. Set out the rules and stick to them. Kids needs boundaries. Good behavior=consequences. Bad behavior=consequences. This has got to work here too.
I so wish I could be there for you.
Where the eff is the George Winston music when we need it?
I love that term "hate bath" it is a perfect description to get your point across.
I was a teen who spent ages 17 through 20 actively- and creatively, I might add- hating my parents, life, the universe, etc.
I said the most horrific and terrible things to these people who unconditionally loved and supported me. The bad news? it lasted three years.
The good news? I got over it, eventually, with time and therapy and a year-long residential program that helped me realize that the person who was hurting me the most was myself.
Just know that in the end that little monster WILL eventually turn back into your sweet, loving girl.
Sorry for the gigantic comment.
"Hate Bath" totally fits, I may have to borrow it. It fits here also.
Okay, something you probably do not want to hear, but self has told you already.
It is probably better on EVERYONE that eldest does residential. People there are not emotionally affected by her mean comments as you and your family are and can not be minipulated with her tactics.
Besides, you and your family could probably use a bit of peace and quiet.
If only for a little while to recharge.
Sometimes if you just look Mr. Music straight in the eye, he's not so scary anymore.
I just wish Mr. Music had a different tune for you.
"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming!" Maybe that phrase from Finding Nemo will help you as it has me. It can't hurt to smile!
And ya know, dancing is one of the things you can do with Mr Music.
She needs structure with non negotiable rules.
You need rest and calm so you can get back on your feet.
You both need someone else to step in for a while who's not emotionally attached.
Hang in there.
We're thinking of you.
She will come back to you. I know it.
Residential will not only be good for her, it will be good for your family. Being emotionally beat by a 16 year old on a daily basis isn't fair to any of you. She must, must learn that...
1) She's in charge of her life and all the decisions she makes are hers. She can either have a shit fit over it or she can suck it up and do the work. She'll see that the shit fit isn't working for her and she'll do the work. Why? Because she's a smart kid that's why.
2) Treating people the way she's been treating you is unacceptable.
3) You love her enough to withstand her hate baths and do what's best for her.
If you need help with her before she goes residential, let me know. The oldest Tonklings can go to my parents' for the day and XC and I can hang with her. I'll take her to Deanna Rose and we'll feed goats or something.
Oh, you look utterly beautiful in yellow. I meant to tell you that tonight. :)
Sometimes it is the hardest path that is the best.
You are there and one day that will be a defining fact of her life. It will lay dormant for a while, but, in the end: you were Mom.
That is why tough guys from the past get it tattooed on their arms.
It seems like you have reached some kind of understanding with Mr. Music.
Mom. :)
Post a Comment