Reflections of the way life used to be....

Or reflections of the way I wish life were or life could be.  What would it be like if things were different?  If Brandon wasn't bipolar and his other variety pack of ever changing diagnoses.  What would I be struggling with, I imagine it would be something. But I wouldn't have my understanding of things in this world without him.  I would have continued on into oblivion about mental illness. 

I'm not a loud voice in the world of advocacy.  I don't have facebook pages, or a blog that is actually read, or walk for the cause and what have you.  I am Brandon's voice though, the only one he has.  The more I read, the more scared I get.  I read on other's blogs about how the system has failed them and there mentally ill child, now adult is in jail and not received meds or services.  Is that him later down the road?  Too much uncertainty keeps me unsettled.

Brandon and I met with a new group on Monday.  We met for a mental health assessment for services and to get a new doctor, hopefully one that will listen and help.  I didn't hate the therapist, but I didn't get a warm fuzzy feeling either.  He will meet with the Nurse Practitioner on March 11th.  I don't even get a doctor.  My thought process on this is as follows;  if I'm going to get a shitty doctor it might as well be closer to home.  This group seems more organized than Family Preservation.  Hopefully they can help.  I'm definitely guarded. 

As I look into my crystal ball

I'm looking in my crystal ball, well not really-but if I did I would see Brandon being hospitalized again.  He is hearing people talking to him in the mirrors.  Kinda freaky and I feel for him, I really do.  He's only 11 years old, I couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be him.  I know what it feels like for me to deal with him, but the actually try to live life though his eyes is terrifying.  He's having a hard time at school and at home and that worries me.  Usually it's one or the other.  I like it when it's just at home so the poor people at the school get a break.  I don't really like it, but I don't wish it upon others.  It says something when he is at a "special" school and they are having trouble dealing with his behaviors.  He actually got suspended from this school not too long ago for assaulting a teachers aide.  It's REALLY hard to get suspended from a "special" school like the one that Brandon is in.  I wonder if on Monday when he goes for his assessment they will Baker Act him on the spot.  I guess we will see.  I will update all you non existent, imaginary followers when I hear something.  Echo Echo Echo....LOL

Back to the drawing board

So here we are, back to the drawing board.  Brandon goes on Monday for a mental health assessment with a different provider.  I've mentioned before that I was unhappy with his current provider.  We have been unable to reach his current doctor regarding his Risperdal.  The pharmacy can't fill it without the doctor either changing the dosage to twice a day instead of three times a day (because the insurance company doesn't like him getting it three times) or the doctor need to call and file a dispute with the insurance company.  It has been three weeks and we still don't have any meds and no returned phone calls.  After the doctor telling Rick that he needs to start showing my 11 year old how to be a man, the toxic dose of Depakote he keeps trying to cram down my sons throat, and now this-I've had enough.

I find that every once in awhile I find renewed strength.  I guess I am at this point once again.  New therapist, new doctor, new false hope I suppose.  I will fight with all I have to make Brandon more functional.  I will fight and fight and fight.  Then I will get tired and kind of become complacent.  Just try to tune it out and pretend it's not there.  I am cautious about starting over with a new therapist and new doctor.  It seems like I spend the first few months convincing them that I am not a terrible parent.  New meds equal new side effects.  I just want them to listen, to really listen, and try to understand and try to help.  He is having audio and visual hallucinations again which is par for the course for bi polar psychosis as he is manic again.  And the beat goes on....

You need to....

You need to make sure Brandon goes to bed earlier.  You need to spank him more.  You need to be more consistent.  You need to feed him a gluten free diet, a dye free diet, and whole foods diet.  You need to follow through.  You need to send him to in patient care.  You need to take him off of all the meds.  You need a rainbow star chart.   Blah blah blah.....

And then you all wonder when you ask how things are, I say they are just fine.

You don't get it.  You don't know the fight we fight.  Everything is a fight.  Wiping his ass, washing his hands, flushing the toilet, going to bed, food, homework, EVERYTHING!  We pick our fights, we have to or we wouldn't stop fighting with him.  There would be nothing left of us.  All that's left is a sloppy puddle of who we were anyway.  What's gonna set him off?  I pick what's important and stick with it.  This may mean he didn't have a bath, or do his homework; but let me tell you he did wipe his ass and have an entire can of corn for dinner.

So all you judgemental assholes that don't get.....shut it.  Keep your opinions to yourself.  If I want it, I'll ask. 

And I am just fine....

Things have been interesting here...

We have had an interesting and horrible few days here.  Our lab mix, Sadie, was euthanized on Thursday.  Apparantly she ingested rat poison.  We are holding our breath watching our other pets thinking they may have gotten into something too.  Especially my daughters cat, Freckles, who is a fearless hunter.  The vet suggested that maybe a neighbor put rat poison in their shed and one of the rats came into our yard where a very curious Sadie got it.  The uncertainty is stressful.

Speaking of stressful.....this has sent Brandon into a manic episode.  Woo hoo!  He goes from super hyper giggly with inappropriate jokes about dead dogs to a violent weeping asshole.  I'm scared.  I'm scared about his future and I'm scared about the future of my other two children.  I'm scared what he may do in our sleep when he's older.  I'm scared he's going to self medicate with drugs and alcohol.  I'm scared he's gonna meet a girl, fall in love, beat the shit out of her.  I'm scared about him being a sexual predator (no signs of this, just me being scared).  I'm scared for my youngest who sees his brothers behaviors and doesn't know any different.  I'm sad for my daughter who is scared of him. i guess you see where I'm going with this.  Round and round the bipolar roulette wheel.  My biggest fear is that he will be one of these kids that turns into a shooter, I'm more scared of this than if he only took his own life.  I'm scared I will be one of the mothers of one of these kids.  I'm scared that one day, ten years from now an angry mob of humans will come across this paragraph after my son's horrendous crime and ask why didn't I do something.

After the Sandy Hook shooting with the Adam Lanza kid I read a blog called, "I am Adam Lanza's mother".  I was so shaken after I read it.  They were talking about me and my son. 

Where do I go from here?  Back to the psych doctor, back to the therapist, back to the pharmacy.   Keep trying, keep fighting, keep looking for someone to care enough to really help.  Not these bullshit Medicaid doctors that don't give a fuck and try to cram in as many kids and write as many scripts as possible because they get $10 a visit or some crap like that.  Another example of a system broken into so many pieces that you don't even know what the picture is on the box.