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....
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