Help for a tired mom

Sometimes I am truly amazed by my own strength. Other times I wonder how I will push forward. This moment falls under the later of the two.

I feel like every parent reaches a point where they serious asked themselves if they are making a difference. Am I healing my child? Am I doing it right? Is my child healable? How much more will it take? Is he a lost cause? I hate these questions but I am comfortable enough in my own skin to vocalize them. I can’t answer those questions for you any better than I can for myself. What I can say is that HOPE is a four letter word. Look at it how you wish. For me the word seems to conjure more feelings than I care to deal with at this time.

Some days I stare out the window. I wonder and dream. I am not too numb that I have stopped dreaming, I just dream with more reality than I used too. My light seems little dimmer these days and it takes a lot of energy to pull my bootstraps up and carry on. My mom used to call me sunshine. “Her little sunshine”. I would walk in a room and light it up according to mom. Now, I would rather stand on a wall and pretend to be invisible. Being seen hurts. Being noticed and gawked at hurts more. Most of us put on a pretty good show for the normal parents but our exterior is not without cracks and flaws.

The past few weeks have been a nightmare. I doubt I can sum it up in a post. I will give you a brief overview and all I ask is for support, prayers and answers for resources if you have any. I am pressing on but I need help. I am not afraid to shout from the rooftops that I need help.

Hospitalization. Again. It was bad this time. He was kept for a week but it was not long enough. No behaviors, no treatment equals worn out parents. Med changes and he was sent back home for the weekend. The minute he got home he wanted to go back. No triggers, no chores, no nothing to do. He prefers institution life to his family. His entire stay away he never once asked about family. Never once asked about his brothers, the animals, school, nothing. He never asked to speak to us although I called religiously 3 times a day to see if he would talk.

Reality quickly set it. He wanted the institution over his family. All of my feelings of attachment and progress in his therapy that we have worked on tirelessly for the last year and a half went out the window. He has NO attachment at all. To anyone.

I’m tired and I feel like my pizzazz has slipped.

Since being home he has:

-attempted to jump out his window

-mutilated a fish (literally snapped it in half and laughed the strangest laugh we have heard)

-talk extremely sick about taking the little fishes’ life (while reeling in his joy)

-kicked his foot through a wall

-tried to slam his head into walls

-destroyed everything he can

-scream, yell, bully, curse and threaten everyone and everything

-beg to go back to the hospital

-forget everything (including wearing shoes 2 sizes too small)

-blaming EVERYONE for EVERYTHING

-scream for hours!!

-restless sleep (even though he is on a sleep med)

-attempted stealing

He is different since he came back this time. He looks different, acts different. I wish I could describe it.

If anyone out there has suggestions I am open. Please email me privately : bl.merrifield@cox.net There is so much to tell that I simply can’t post it all.

I try hard to leave my blogs with a positive note or something to hold on too. I can’t. I feel like every last ounce I have is devoted to safety .