And Downs . . .

Lily had a rough time last week, after a nice Christmas.  I'm still fighting the desire for an instant and complete return to my idealized version of family life, even knowing how ludicrous that is!  But writing it out helps me maintain some perspective, so here goes.

We traveled to a distant town to spend time with my older daughter and her family.  One of the motivations was to watch my grandson while she returned to work for the first week, a difficult thing to manage with a new baby.  This meant less direct attention for Lily.  It also meant she'd need to be somewhat independent with grabbing meals and meeting her individual needs.  She's been more independent in the past, so I know she's capable, but it didn't go well last week.  She was angry and frustrated, and also clearly jealous of the adorable 10 week old baby.

We also had titrated down a bit on her risperidone.  So when Lily reported a couple of hallucinations, and I witnessed her struggle to remain calm and co-operative, I wasn't sure if it was from the med change, the frustrations of being  away from home, or a combination of both.  We did get through the week, and a miserable ride home, but it wasn't pretty.

I also need to keep in mind that she's fourteen.  She criticizes most things I do, or represent, and that's part and parcel of the difficult push for independence from your parent.  But I don't like it.  Especially when she criticizes something she's asked me to do for her, a favor that meets with disdain and/or snarkiness.  Because, really, I'd much rather be doing my own thing than help someone who's rude to me.  I could be reading, walking, writing, even cleaning house would be preferable.

So once again, I'm trying to be mindful about balancing my response to Lily.  It's normal to feel frustration with a rude teenager, but this kid also needs a lot of reassurance.  I need to let her know when she crosses a boundary, so she'll learn from the experience, but I also need to be certain she knows I believe she's lovable, talented, capable, worthy.  Because she is.

In the end, we settled in at home and Lily returned to school this morning without any negative drama.  We get a gold star for that, as it is a group effort.  Yay us!

I am a Weepy Mess!

I am, truly, but it's a good thing, really!  We had a family therapy session today with Lily's new therapist, at our house.  No kidding.  She comes to us, and she's amazing.  Smart, experienced, intuitive, thoughtful.  She is able to explain things to Lily in a way that seems to be breaking through Lily's hard shell.

It's no secret that this year has been hell.  Lily has suffered so much, and she is depressed and angry and fearful.  Not that she can articulate those emotions (except for the anger, but then that is misdirected).  She has been wanting answers as much or more than anyone else.  So she researches and tries to figure it all out, and when the current therapy or med isn't doing the trick, she self diagnoses with another ailment.  She doesn't trust that I can help her figure it out, she seems only able to trust herself.

But Miss M, the new psychologist, knows her sh*t.  She efficiently and clearly explains how disorders differ and what she looks for in a diagnosis.  And - she's on Lily's wavelength.  Lily has little patience for mindfulness tools that have directions.  She doesn't want to process something as simple as: stop, place your hands on your knees, take a breath for 3 to 4 seconds, slowly exhale, repeat 3 to 4 times.  She has a valid perspective.  When she's angry, frustrated or fearful, she needs something she doesn't even have to think about.  Miss M is on this.  She totally empathizes.  Even I didn't understand this.  I kept thinking, how do you know unless you just try? 

And get this.  Miss M, when I expressed my wish that she let me know where I can improve my parenting, said she thinks I'm a good parent.  I said, oh, well but I get impatient and grumpy sometimes.  And Miss M told me that even Freud said we all should be able to have our rough spots and lumps, that we don't have to be perfect.

So, wow.  That sums it up and yet doesn't even begin to touch this experience.  We have incredible therapeutic behavior providers coming to our home multiple times a week.  The school is frigging fantastic.  I even went to a dance class last weekend.  A dance class.  For me.  And I had fun.  How long has it been since I honestly had real fun?

So yes, I am just completely weepy.  For how amazing things are in this moment.  For how horrible things were the past year.  For the support I now feel.

Can I just say, I've been so scared.  So scared that things wouldn't get better.  So scared that I was to blame (even when I know better, I felt like she's my kid, I'm supposed to have all the answers and understand what she's going through).  So afraid that because I'm a single parent and don't have anyone to step in and share this responsibility that I could be handling it all wrong.  So sad that I didn't have anyone to share this responsibility with.  No one to really lean on.

I feel so relieved and exhausted that I could sleep for a month.  Not that we don't a boat load of work ahead of us, but I'm not doing it alone.