Will and I had a discussion today about how the choices aren't really change or don't change.

It's really don't change or DO THE WORK to change.  There is a big difference in those.

We talked about when the last time Will did something he didn't want to do.  It was to interact with me when I got home, but he said he "forced himself".

We talked about examples of things he says and how his behavior doesn't match.  How he says he wants to graduate, but doesn't do the work.  How he wants to be a welder, but won't learn anything about OSHA safety.

This concept is so foreign to him.  In his reality you don't have to work for things.  A supernatural power intercedes and things just happen.  I am having a hard time convincing him that graduation is in my reality.

I can't even describe some of our conversations and how frustrating they are.

At this point we are striving to just get Will to be rote about doing the things that are required of him.  So far it seems to be impossible.
Will has therapy on Wednesdays.

I never know what is going to happen during therapy.  Sometimes Will is open to talking about things.  Sometimes he is in his own reality, but still has conversation with us.  Those are hard days.  Some days he just dissociates and we don't do much of anything.

Today wasn't really any of those.  Today we talked about "what we are doing in therapy".  We talked about how Will wrote his therapist a letter in January stating how he wanted to change.  His therapist told him how that made her really hopeful, because it seemed like there was still a window open for us to do therapeutic work.  Today she asked Will to tell her if that window was still open, because it doesn't seem like it to us.  He doesn't know.

He asked if we could quit therapy until he decides if he even wants to change anymore.

We talked about how every time we have taken a break from therapy there has been a major thinking error and then there is in some sort of crisis and they keep getting bigger and bigger. It's also likely that he will be court-ordered to continue therapy.

We had another talk about how when he does his psychological exam he should NOT try to make him self seem like a bad ass or try to make himself seem crazy, because that would not be helpful.
I'm not sure he understands that message.

So...until next Wednesday.
Sometimes I don't completely think things through.  Maybe a little bit more often than sometimes.

By linking my blog to my Facebook page it didn't occur to me both Charlie and Will are my friends on Facebook. 

Will read that post.  He read about himself needed help and how I had cried in the probation waiting room.  He is disconnected from emotion and, well, life so he didn't really think much about it.  What he did do was read back through old posts.

He told me they made him laugh, because he had forgotten so many things we have done and how much fun we have had.  He told me he even screen shot a few of the posts so he could keep them.

That warmed my heart.  For Will that is about as close as I can get to an "I love you."

I'll take it.
Will's portion of the probation interview lasted about 90 minutes. 

Mine lasted THREE AND A HALF HOURS.  In the end I was asked to talk to the juvenile probation officers about being the parent of a child with mental health issues.  This topic is so dear to my heart, but I don't feel like I have the educational background.  I didn't read the books on this topic...I took the field trip.

This is the third time I have been asked to do a discussion of this type for a group of people.

I am not equipped to be the spokesperson for this topic.  So not equipped.
Monday's post was healing for me.  I'm still learning to be transparent.  That's one of the lessons God has had for me on this journey of motherhood.  Prior to this I believed I was in control and I didn't need to seek help or prayer or really anything.  I got it and things are going well were my common answers for everything.

Increasingly over the last seven years (but seemingly a lifetime) the new me has learned more often than not I don't have it and things going "well" is relative.  I can literally see God's hand in everything almost every day.  Monday as I sat in the probation office with an overflow of emotion leaking out my eyes I knew I needed help.  For the record the old me would have NEVER cried in the probation office waiting area or any public place for that matter.

What I got was lifted up in prayer so much so that I can feel the peace still today. 

I can tell you this...while it is flattering to be called an inspiration and a hero...I am neither.  I am a woman who was called to do something hard....REALLY HARD.  I look back now and wonder "Why me?"  So many things come to mind.  I am still ill-equipped to be a parent.  I had never had biological children and spent the majority of my life "less than interested" in them.  I certainly didn't have any experience with kids from "hard places" and the thought of talking about mental illness in ANYONE scared me to death.  I didn't have the kind of career where being a parent, let alone a single parent, seemed plausible.

I am grateful for the people who reached out to me.  Some of the private messages touched me to the core.  For those of you who work with kids like Will...thank you for loving our kids.  For those of you mamas who have kids like Will and thanked me for being honest, because now you don't feel so alone.  You aren't. 

Thank you all so very much.

Today was a rough day. 

Will is involved in the court system for a minor offense.  It has ballooned into something out of control.  In so many ways it mirrors our lives right now.

I was sitting in the probation intake waiting room this morning while they interviewed Will after a particularly difficult weekend where he showed complete disregard for everything....especially me.  I'm certain he is telling them I am awful and angry.  Today I am awful and angry and done.  So done with all of the never-ending BS.  Trying to help someone who is certain I am the one with the problems and causing their behavior.  Someone who to the world looks charming and kind and good.  Praying that somewhere on this side of heaven there is help for this boy who I love desperately and knowing it is an absolute long shot. 

I'm watching this child slowly dig himself into a bigger and bigger hole and all I can do is watch.  He is jumping off a cliff in slow motion and I don't know how to save him.  If I mention a single word about any behavior he becomes enraged and blames the behavior on me.  We're talking rage like most people do not experience in their lifetime.  At least most people I know.

Watching this same child have complete and total disregard for others.  Most of all me.  Wondering what the next step for him needs to be.  Knowing I'm doing everything there is to do yet still feeling like an absolute failure.

I spent the morning with him telling me how I never notice the good things he does.  I pointed out a number of them from the weekend, because no matter what there is always good.  He went on to tell me none of those are big things.  I apologized for perhaps missing something big to praise him for and asked if there was something specific he thought I had missed.  He mentioned something that happened almost a year ago and then said, "I stopped doing good things, because you wouldn't tell me I did good anyway.  So it is your fault I haven't done anything good in a year."


Reactive attachment disorder.  You have made me my child's enemy.  You don't care if I am trustworthy and hopeful and kind.  You don't care that often times I am able to summons up supernatural unconditional love in someone who looks at me with disdain and disgust.  He admitted to the probation office today that any question I ask him makes him have rage.  Did you eat an apple after school can cause a retaliation completely disproportional. make telling the truth impossible.  You make me spend my days trying to figure out the small nugget of truth in an absurd story so I can figure out what is really going on.

Probation's parting question to me....what would you deem a success through all of this?

That my child gets help.  That there is help.  That this is not our "forever".  That there be something, anything which will help manage his psychosis.  There are no pills for being certain you are invisible while you sleep and that your junior year bus driver was blind.  Those are just thinking errors which have to be navigated.  That mental health in general isn't in the backseat any more.

Most of all...please help my son.  I love him.