mental illness « Lucky Thirteen and Counting

Archive for the ‘mental illness’ Category

22 Jul

some days are harder than others

Posted by Sandi in Random, mental illness

First, before I begin whining about my day.

A few of you have had questions about Hunter switching from Guanfacine to Guanfacine.

The best way I can explain the switch is this, If you are at the store and want to buy ibuprofen, there are multiple different names to buy it under. ADVIL, MOTRIN, generic brand, CHILDREN"S MOTRIN, INFANT MOTRIN. You get the idea. They are made at different companies with different fillers.

If ibuprofen came out with a new bigger better pill that was time released and you could take it once a day and be pain and fever free all day long….. Well, that is what we are doing with Hunter. It's the new Guanfacine, better company, longer acting, less side effects, less fillers.

Hunter made a graph to show the difference.

We start his first pill tonight. PRAISE THE LORD!

Moving on-

********************************

Brandon has STREP throat. He is sicker than a dog. Two nights ago he begged me to kill him. I thought about it for a split second and realized if he is that miserable, I need to take him to the Doctor. He has been burning up with fever, freezing his ass off, aching and wanting to die.

I hauled him to the Urgent Care yesterday morning. They took half a look at him, told him to drink lots of fluid and get plenty of rest. "YOU HAVE A COLD."

WTF?

I told the idiot in a uniform that he needed to run a flu test on him because he had classic symptoms of the flu and ZERO symptoms of a cold. AND I HAVE FIFTEEN KIDS AT HOME, PLUS COMPANY, AND IF HE HAS THE FLU, IT HAS TO STOP HERE!!!!

The Dr. walked out, got a swab, stuck it up his nose and said, "You'll have results in three days."

At this point my temperature was rising.

If we won't have results for three days, he will continue to feel like shit, and breathe germs all over my house, and infect my FIFTEEN KIDS PLUS COMPANY and too much time will have passed to catch it with Tamiflu.

"Would you mind writing a prescription for tamiflu?"

"i guess I could do that."

DUH!

I was furious!

While Brandon was waiting for his script and paying his pointless bill, I got on the phone and called Kelly.

Kelly is a dear friend. She became a dear friend because she is the office manager at the pediatricians office. ( I have spent a lot of time there.)

I told her that the idiots at Urgent Care told me it took three days to get results for a flu swab. She confirmed that I knew what I was doing, and that there are indeed rapid tests for H1N1 and that she had them there. "Which kid you bring you bringing in hon?"

"ummm…… Brandon? Will Dr. Lin see him?"

SIlence

"Hold on, I'm going to ask."

I held for a moment, Brandon was still paying, and she came back on the phone and said, "BRING HIM OVER!"

I LOVE my DOCTORS and my KELLY!

We drove straight there.

Brandon was miserable and mortified and said, "I HATE MY LIFE."

Once there at the pediatric clinic, Dr.Lin took one look at him said, I want to do a strep test.

and you guessed it, it was positive. He got his antibiotics and a sticker.

I was, and still am, beyond grateful for my team of professionals. Brandon is doing much better today. I think I am going to transfer my medical records over to SoCal peds.

************************************************

So, add the med switch going on for Hunter, a sick husband, stressing out of mind about whether or not to go to BlogHer, and all the other life stuff that happens daily…..

I hit the wall.

Last night, after being awaked by Parker twice, Pauline the hair braider once, and Brandon getting in and out of bed for medication multiple times…. I just laid there. I couldn't settle down. I couldn't fall back to sleep, so after one hour of listening to Brandon clear his throat and swallow repeatedly I got up and took a Xanax.

I got up this morning at seven I am told, I think I got the kids to school and I went back to bed and regained my sanity and my wits at 10:30 this morning.

I think I took that pill too late or something.

Or maybe I am just fried and finally hit the wall.

Either way, I am being kind to myself today. I am doing small amounts of laundry. I am speaking softly and praying for patience, because mine seems to have gone out the door.

Maybe I will find it in New York because I am going. My kids could care less if I am at the meet or not, in fact, a few of them thought it might be less embarrassing without me there screaming and cheering. It was ME that felt awful about missing the meet. I LOVE seeing my kids kick butt. It's the competitive side of me. I am sure I will be on the phone all day Saturday for a play by play. But I am ready for a break.

Brandon is joining me. Shaylee and CeCe are manning the troops. I am going to have fun. But if I don't I will give a play by play of the drama.

Deep Breath

14 Comments »

25 May

I have a question

Posted by Sandi in Random, mental illness

I have a "friend" who is pretty good at diagnosing herself. She knows what she needs, and in order to save a step in her VERY BUSY life, bypassed the doctor and just ordered the medication from India through a pharmacy in Canada.

Are you all following me here?

She is now having serious anxiety, possibly due to the medication she is taking, though her research hasn't proven this to be a side effect…

Anyway, if she were to go to the doctor now, and tell them she was taking Wellbutrin, that wasn't prescribed by anyone but herself, would she get in trouble? Like "go to jail," trouble or just "a mean lecture… don't do anything so stupid again," trouble?

Just VERY curious and trying to help a friend in need.

Because this friend currently feels great, but can't seem to catch her breath at all. And is damn close to driving herself to the ER, but has no free time to do it.

*attempted deep breath*

Thank you!

46 Comments »

26 Apr

head case

Posted by Sandi in Random, mental illness

I bailed three weeks early on my accutane. I was supposed to finish on the 15th of May. I stopped taking it on Tuesday. There are plenty of side effects from accutane, but the one I was most concerned about was the depression. I patted myself on the back every month. "So far so good," I would brag. I got cocky and that accutane kicked my ass in the end.

The kids were too much and too many. The business was too stressful. The rain too often. The teacher strike overwhelming. Brandon's absence was cause enough to drive myself off the nearest bridge. I bawled for three days. I hit the wall. I thought a hair cut would make me feel better. I sat in the chair and sobbed about how ugly I looked before, during, and after the process. I cried all the way home and when I pulled into the driveway, It dawned on me what my deal was. ACCUTANE!

I haven't taken a pill since.

It's been five days. I think I may see a glimmer of hope. I am feeling a little better everyday. I haven't cried for two days. I wake up in the morning and get out of bed. I don't wait for all ten children to climb on top of me. I am not thinking the world has come to an end because the sky is overcast. I am slowly coming out of the funk.

Deep Breath

and again-

I am okay.

I think the accutane did a great job on my skin. However, my melasma has increased horribly. Now I will spend three months trying to reverse that. What a nightmare. My skin just plain sucks. Fix one thing, and that triggers something else. I guess I just need to look at it like a project. I will always have something to concentrate on fixing.

At least hydroquinone won't mess with my emotions. I am DONE feeling like shit.

21 Comments »

12 Mar

Friday Flashback 1983

Posted by Sandi in Random, mental illness

Wasn't I a bad ass? *sarcasm*

This was one year after I had fallen off the back with NO helmet and suffered a fractured skull and concussion. I may be able to blame all my issues, problems, and short comings on this three-wheeler.

Thanks Dad.

6 Comments »

19 Jan

feelings

Posted by Sandi in Bronson, blogging, mental illness

I was in ninth grade when I had had enough of this life. It was about a boy, and I thought, I was in love with him…. He had told me he just wanted to be friends. That was after I had given him my virginity. He told me I was too tall, too skinny, and had too many zits. There wasn't enough benzoyl peroxide on the planet to make me what he was looking for. Tall, skinny, and without a clear complexion, I felt I had nothing and would never be valuable enough to be loved by anyone else. All I ever wanted was to get married and have babies. If the first boy I had ever been with felt that way about me, surely all boys would. My dreams went up in smoke that day.

I took handfuls of dramamine, iron tablets, tylenol, and anything else that was floating around in my parents medicine cupboard. Was it a means for attention? At the time, I sure didn't think so. At that moment, with tears streaming down my face, and my Maverick mug full of water, I started swallowing pill after pill. When I had emptied the bottles, I laid down on my bed with my stuffed animal in my arms and hoped to just fall asleep. As soon as I felt the world begin to spin, I started to panic. I ran down the hall and told my brother what I had done and he woke up my mom. The rest is a blur. I honestly don't remember much, other than vomiting for what felt like days. I know I was in the hospital, and I know that is what began years and years of therapy and counseling.

I recovered. I will always have the "clinical depression" status. I have never attempted or contemplated suicide since that night twenty four years ago. BUT I have dealt with depression. The darkest years of my life were from age 17-26. I was on Prozac for most of those years, stopping only to get through pregnancies. But with Hadley, the doctors and I both felt that Prozac throughout her pregnancy was one of those "the benefits outweigh the risks" type of things, so I carried Hadley with Prozac coursing through my veins. I nursed her for 12 months with Prozac laced milk. (surprisingly enough she is the most mentally stable of all) and after her first birthday, weeks before Jayden joined our family, I stopped taking my meds. I have been med free ever since…. well, almost ever since. I had a 45 day run on Celexa after my brother-in-law committed suicide. But that was short lived and more for anxiety.

All of that is being said because……

None of that qualifies me to "know" how Bronson feels. Nor does it qualify anyone else. I can be sympathetic. I can even be empathetic, but that doesn't mean I know exactly how he is feeling or why he is feeling that way. So many of you shared your concerns about what a fragile place he was in, and what an 'unstable, unable to make rational decisions' place he was in. While I appreciate how many friends, supporters and nay-sayers, left comments and shared stories, none of you "know" how Bronson is feeling. Since the child is my son and he lives with me, in my home, 24/7, I would guess that I have a better handle on him than most of you.

What offended some of you in the post of suicide was that I was writing about me, not him. Since I only know how I feel, I think that is a good place to start.

Bronson called home yesterday and wanted to know if I had blogged yet. I told him that I had and that there were 77 comments left wishing him well. He asked if I would read the post to him because he didn't want to wait to read it himself. So I did. I read him every word and cried of course. He stood in the hallway of the psyche ward with his head against the wall and listened and when I choked through every word he said, "awww, thanks mommy."

I told him there were plenty of people that thought I had done the wrong thing by blogging about such a personal thing and putting it out there for the world to see.

And he said, "Fuck 'em. I told you to write it and I am glad you did. You love to write and I love to read what you write and nobody else matters."

Bronson was discharged shortly after that phone call. He is doing well. He is in an outpatient program where he goes for seven hours a day. He is on a new med and his attitude is so much better than it was on Saturday. He has found a new love, and that is for wounded spirits. He has fallen in love with the people in the unit. I am just happy to see him have a reason to wake up in the morning.

We were at Borders last night when I got another comment on the blog telling me what a sick person I was to share my child's issues with the world and Bronson got pissed. He said, "I am going home and guest blogging."

I said, "I think that's a great idea. Writing is theraputic. I am so excited!! I have been asking you for years to do a post for me."

Bronson said, "All I am going to write is FUCK OFF!"

"Okay baby, I don't think so. All my readers will say, 'see that child is still so unstable.' maybe another time when you have something eloquent and articulate to say."

…and that's where we are right now. I am mothering away. I am blogging away. It's just another day in the life. But things seem a little brighter and stuff that I thought was important last week just doesn't feel as important today. I am hugging all my babies a little tighter and holding them a little longer.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

71 Comments »

08 Jan

high drama

Posted by Sandi in Random, mental illness

Drama in the business

Drama in the marriage

Drama with the kids

Drama in the blogosphere

I have completely shut down. I am emotionally spent. My head hurts. My heart hurts.

I am pretty much a basket case. If I allow myself to blog, I will say things and do things that I regret….. So I am taking a break and hoping to find some peace in my life. Don't have an effing clue where to even look, but it sure as hell isn't here.

Comments Off

30 Nov

Never a dull moment

Posted by Sandi in OC, mental illness

Just when things began to get under control in my life, our crazy neighbor, the one that wanted to run Warren G out of our neighborhood, and the one that screamed at Brandon about my "No on Eight" signs on my car, because "it’s Sodomy for God’s sake!" Yeah him, the one that is right next door to me…..

He came after Brandon tonight with fists flying, screaming at him, calling him a fucking idiot, all in front of our kids.

I was in the kitchen dishing up dinner when the doorbell rang. Brandon answered the door and I heard him say, in his pleasant, Ned Flanders, voice, "Hi neighbor." So I figured all was fine. Two minutes later, Jazzi, Kate, and Ty entered the kitchen to tell me the neighbors were being mean. I hear this kind of crap all the time, so I am still dishing up dinner and listening half heartedly. I say, "whose being mean?"

Jazzi said, "A grown up. He called dad a fucking idiot."

She had my undivided attention now!!! I left the dinner sitting on the counter and ran out the front door. Bronson, Shaylee, and a few other kids were standing outside watching our neighbor telling Brandon that he was going to "fuck him up." another neighbor couple joined the scene and attempted to calm the situation down. instead, crazy neighbor man called on nice neighbor man.

Things were getting exciting now.

Brandon is as cool as a cucumber. He just turned and walked away and that pissed off crazy neighbor even more.

We went in the house with all the kids and discussed the bad words and rotten behavior that they had witnessed in an adult. Brandon explained that what the neighbor had done was against the law. You may not threaten physical harm to anyone. We turned in into a life lesson and talked about the proper way to handle disputes, whether they are with siblings, or friends, or neighbors. Swearing, swinging, and threatening are NEVER okay. We emphasized it all by reporting the crazy man next door to the COPS. The kids loved that.

I hope we taught more than just our children a thing or two.

We will not be next door neighbors for much longer, but we have had three run ins with him in the two years we have been here. The guy who owns this house, Dave, got into it with him a year ago in LAX. Crazy neighbor approached him to tell him that he had ruined the neighborhood by leasing this home to us. Dave said, "What are you talking about? every person I have talked to around you loves The Bensons."

Crazy neighbor said, "You want to take this outside or in the ring?"

Dave was like, Holy shit dude you are a wack job! (I’m paraphrasing)

My best guess about how all of this started, was when we first moved in, we allowed our children to play with the Warren G kids.

The crazy neighbor ran right over to make sure I knew that those kids were trouble. I immediately get mama bear and think he is being prejudiced, and tell him, thank you for the concern, but I will decide who my children may or may not play with.

About a month later, Warren was arrested in LA over something, and the only reason I know is because in my mail box, is the TMZ report printed out and left for me. I was pissed! Who in the hell cares if Warren is partying in LA. His professional and party life do not have anything to do with his children playing with mine. The report in my mailbox crossed the line in my book and bordered on Mrs Kravitz.

Since he got nowhere with me, he approached Brandon, during the same week, to see if he would be more receptive. He told Brandon that Warren was no good and we shouldn’t engage with him at all. He told Brandon that Warren was a gang member, to which Brandon responded, "I am glad he has friends."

Crazy neighbor was unimpressed with us! He screamed and yelled at Brandon in our driveway about being irresponsible and being bad parents.

And since that day, almost two years ago, he has despised us.

My prop eight rant is posted here if you missed it.

And tonight’s fight was over my children riding their bikes in a rut on his grass where his wife backed over the lawn. According to him, my kids made it deeper and wider than his wife’s tire did. and if Brandon doesn’t fix it or pay for it, he will "fuck him up."

Saddest part of the evening- His little girl, maybe a ten year-old, was outside watching the entire thing and kept saying, "Please stop Daddy." at one point when he was swinging his arms and coming after Brandon, she jumped in front of him, begging him to stop, and he picked her up and sat her down behind him.

My heart aches for this guy’s wife and kids. If he comes that unglued over a little mud, I can’t imagine what he must do behind closed doors.

Best part of the evening- After he called me a fucking idiot, he told me he reads my blog!!

Hi Pat. I hope you get the help you need for your anger management issues.

Any of you readers interested in moving in here? We will be out by Tuesday.

28 Comments »

01 Sep

Relationships are hard. PERIOD.

Posted by Sandi in Brandon, blogging, mental illness

*WARNING* (Long ass post and possibly rated R.)

I am tired and alone and without my other half and that always seems to make everything a little bit harder to deal with. I am struggling with a few things. I know relationships change, they evolve and they devolve. Mine is changing for sure, I just don’t know which way it’s moving. Is it possible for it to be going both backwards and forwards? Both up and down? Today has been a day that I am not sure which way it’s going. I hate days like today. Questioning SUCKS!

When Brandon and I first fell in love and started a life together, we were the only ones that existed in our little universe. When a person from the past would pop up, all HELL broke loose on both ends. We were distrustful and protective as hell. I HATED that he had a past and he HATED that I did. If I spent time with others, he made damn sure he did it too just so I knew how it felt. We couldn’t talk to our exes privately. We read each other’s emails. We read each other’s texts. We couldn’t shit alone without being questioned. We had issues. We both knew it and recognized it. We talked often that this kind of insanity would never lead to a healthy relationship or even last.

Through the years, we lost friendships. We lost jobs. We lost businesses. We lost children. We lost parents. We clung on to each other for dear life. The more things and people we lost, the tighter we held on to us, and the more passionate we became.

We have maintained that tight hold throughout the four years we have been together. We have allowed a few things to change and evolve this last year in hopes that they were positive developments. What would have killed us three years ago is not as big of a deal today. What rules and restrictions we had for each other in the beginning are no longer applicable. And today… Well, today I want to go back to the beginning.

I love my blog. I love to write. I love to have the connection to the outside world it gives me. Last year it was the “perfect” thing. I could interact with others while sitting next to Brandon. I had both him and my friends at the same time. The blog didn’t take me away physically, and it gave me the outlet I needed. We justified it as therapy. (Because I am messed in the head and should be talking to a professional at least once a week.) This way, I can talk to, on average, 700 professionals per day, and some even offer feedback.

(MISTAKE NUMBER ONE-)But, I got addicted, once more, a flaw of mine, and I wanted more readers and more friends to talk to, (MISTAKE NUMBER TWO-)so I friended everyone I knew on facebook in hopes of growing the blog. We began networking. If I had 200 friends, Brandon could have 400 easy. He actually worked, and went to school, and was a likeable guy, (MISTAKE NUMBER THREE) so I made him join and network on my behalf. I have a lot of new friends/readers because of his stupid facebook.

And then I met Loralee. She told me that if I wanted to play with the big boys in the bloggy playground, I had to have twitter. BECAUSE EVERYONE THAT’S ANYONE IS ON TWITTER! Damn. (MISTAKE NUMBER FOUR-)So I signed up for twitter. Guess who else needed to have twitter? Of course he did, because if I do it, he has to as well.

Our once, very intimate, little marriage now has the blog with about 700 readers, twitter with about 150 followers and facebook with a combined total of friends at 560. I am sure there are a lot of overlappers in there, but we have a whole hell of a lot of people in our lives. Which I am so happy about, as long as they are my people and I am the only one talking to them.

I’ll let you all think about that for a minute.

Think

I hate his twittering with an effing passion. I hate it. Why in the hell is he tweeting? Why in the hell are all of you lovely people following him? (You are not looking so lovely anymore by the way. Sorry to be so blunt.) I hate his facebooking with an effing passion. I told him to get on and friend his friends and share my blog with them, not sit and bullshit the day away with people I don’t know… females too. I am getting pissed off just writing it.

Grrrrrrrrr. Stupid ass Internet.

Listen, he talks to people that I don’t for his business. He has a job that I am not involved in. I don’t try starting up an International business just because he does. I don’t fly across the world for two weeks just because he does. He meets his business partner for lunch at least once a week.

He works. I don’t. I have Internet friends. He shouldn’t. It seems so simple on paper.

I miss the old days. I miss the fierceness and the passion. I miss the sick feeling I got when he spent too much time in the bathroom because what if he was beating off and thinking about someone other than me? Why wasn’t he just having sex with me? What was he thinking about? WHO was he thinking about?

BANG BANG BANG.

“Open the God Damn door you sick Son of a Bitch.”

“What the hell is going on? Is the house on fire?”

“No you stupid asshole. I know you were beating off and I am going to kill you.”

“You have serious issues. I am effing constipated are you happy now?”

“Really? Really? Constipated? Oh I love you so much. Thank you for being constipated.”

Today if he is in there for too long, I don’t even care that he may be beating off. I just hope it’s me that he’s thinking about. The young me, the one with a sex drive and no fat roll.

I guess the relationship was bound to change. I don’t know how either of us could have kept up with the intensity even though I wanted us to. Though I still feel it creeping around when I see him engaged in a conversation on Twitter or facebook. I know I could tell him we were done with the Internet, but I would have to be willing to give mine up if I insisted. If there was shit going on, I would do it in a split second. Should I do it anyway because there is the potential for shit to happen? I love the Internet, but I love Brandon and this marriage more. So for now I am left to question. Is this paranoia just left over intensity, learned behavior if you will? Or is it the trust issues that we will have forever because of the foundation our marriage was created on? Either way, I have to be willing to pick my battles and be willing to relinquish whatever I ask him to give up. If I drop off the face of the earth, you’ll know why.

Welcome to my life and my marriage.

Brandon has told me from day one that I have a double standard….

I hate it when he’s right.

PS- I think it’s important to note that Brandon hasn’t been doing anything "wrong" on the internet, nor does he have a habit of locking the bathroom door to masturbate. I am just a jealous, paranoid, freak.

41 Comments »

16 Aug

A club I DO NOT want a membership to

Posted by Sandi in Adoption, having babies, large families, mental illness

I can’t sleep. I have to clear my head of this terrifying thought that pushed itself into my mind as I was soaking in the tub. I spent the afternoon with two blog friends. I had lunch in downtown disney with Loralee and Heather.

You have all heard me profess my love for Loralee of looneytunes multiple times on this blog. I adore this woman. We have spent a lot of time together since her judgy post about large families. (I have single handedly changed her mind on large families by the way.) When I learned she was coming to California, I made her promise to play with me. Loralee thought I would also adore Heather, so she invited her to hang with us as well. Heather is a love. I could totally be friends with her. She lives just up the 405. Anyway, long story short, I watched these two woman at lunch today and saw the bond that was so apparent to even an outsider. This bond is one that can only be created by a shared loss. A loss so profound that they would give up everything to not know it. They have both lost a child.

The thoughts of this…. I can’t imagine and I don’t even want to. But there is the voice in the back of my mind. It nags at me. It reminds me of the feelings I had after reading this post. It reminds me late at night how I read and read the words on that haunting page. It pushes the thoughts into my head when the house is quiet. It wants me to feel the things I am feeling, to face the unknown and possibilities. I wonder often if there is indeed a reason I became such fast friends with Loralee. Is she going to have to be the one that picks me up and reminds me that life will go on even when you don’t want it too? Is there a reason I have read this post so many times I feel like I was there with her?

I pray my suspicions are wrong. I pray I never join the club that they belong to. With every child that becomes mine, the chances increase. My number may come. I may walk into a room and find a child lifeless in bed. I have children with medical uncertiantlies that increase the odds of that happening even more. The odds are stacked against me in every way.

There are days these thoughts never push their way forward. They are the days I am too busy to give one more hug, too tired to hold them any longer, frustrated with a crier, quick to scold, intolerant with a mental delay. I have days like this more than I care to admit. It will be a day like this that I find myself with one less. Why isn’t this fear enough to make me the perfect mother? Why can’t I hold and cherish every moment with every child just in case?

Even sitting there in that restaurant, watching them tread lightly over the subjects, both cautious of each others feelings and how and where each other is in regards to the healing, makes me very aware of how real it is. But until you go through it you never know. I spent a good part of the night in my own thoughts, wondering how I would handle it. Would I box up that child’s possessions and get rid of every physical reminder of them, or would I want those things around in every room? How long does it take for the pain to go away? You could never forget, but I don’t think you would want to. I hate that I am even wondering about these awful things. WHY am I wondering this?

************************************************************************

I am sitting here now, one week later from the time I sat at lunch with my friends, and I am still spinning in my thoughts and vacillating on whether of not to even post such thoughts and fears. I don’t want these words to give my fears any weight. I don’t want to hear from the rest of you that my feelings are not normal. I want all of you to tell me that you too fear often that one of your little ones will be called home too early.

I want to know that all of the funerals I have planned in my mind in the quiet night is a normal mother thing to do. I want to know that I am friends with Loralee because we have much in common and that one of those things will never be a dead baby.

When I carried my very first child I was only seventeen years old. I carried him for seventeen weeks. We heard a heartbeat at thirteen weeks and never heard it again. At the following appointment, four weeks later, there was no heartbeat. I was sent for an ultrasound and there on the screen was a fetus floating in vast darkness, lifeless, absent a heartbeat, just floating in the dark, only moving when the tech pushed too hard with the wand. Floating babies still haunt my mind.

With every subsequent pregnancy I held my breath when they listened with the dopler. I got physically sick before every ultrasound. With every birth I delivered earlier and earlier. WIth every child the odds of survival got lower. When I wasn’t fearful of losing the pregnancy I was afraid of losing them in the NICU, then at home in the quiet of a nap, then when they were toddlers, I was sure they would get hit by a car, or choke on their food. When they were older every headache was a brain tumor, every fever was cancer. When they go off to school, I am sure they will be a statistic of a teenage driving accident, or alcohol poisoning. Suicide terrifies me and mental illness runs rampant through my veins.

Yet, here I am ready to bring one more home to fuss over and worry endlessly about. One more to keep me standing watch and praying endlessly for. I want to be a mom to all fifteen of these babies for years and years. I want to physically mother them and keep them in my arms for as long as I possibly can. I don’t want regrets. I don’t want to long for them, to wish I would have hugged them one more time, or read them one more story. I am not strong enough. I want to keep my babies.

Sending out a plea to God and universe.

I can’t lose a child.

I can’t.

20 Comments »

18 Jun

It’s not all fun and games

Posted by Sandi in My kids, mental illness, special needs

Most of the time, I would be one that makes light of a kid getting caught with a playboy, or spending a little too much time in the shower. But the issue we are currently dealing with is not one to take lightly or joke about, in my opinion. This kid, is a child, not an adolescent.

It began on September 19, 2007. I remember the date because I sent an email to Bronson asking for his expert advice on being a boy and whether what I found on the computer was “normal” boy behavior or “concerning” boy behavior.

In the email, I stated that I had found porn on a computer. In the history of one of the little kid’s computers “nipplz.com” and “grlzbuts.com” had both been searched. It seemed like something to chuckle about at the time, because the boys were so young and innocent. I was proud of the attempts at words, but not at THE words. This child was clearly sounding things out. At that point in 2007, I was thrilled.

Much to my dismay, the searches did give this child of mine what he was looking for. While only seconds were spent on each sight, it certainly alerted us to the fact that we needed parental controls on the computers. We spent the rest of the day installing safety zones on each of the four Mac’s we had at the time.

Fast forward to present day, now almost two years later. Without giving you the identity of my child, I will say this, he is under twelve years old.

Two months ago, I was changing the sheets on his bed, and I found two of my Victoria Secret catalogs, and a bunch of candy tucked into the side of his bed. I was pissed. He has been stealing my magazines and my treats. I tried to be calm, but all the while I was thinking back to 2007. This child had just busted himself. Since at the time of the computer incident, I had two kids on the exact same reading and spelling level, that both spent equal amounts of time on the computer, I was never sure who had done it. Both children insisted it hadn’t been them and promised and swore they would never type such things. I had my suspicions then, and at the time of the sheet change, eighteen months later, they were confirmed.

I approached said child, with the stash of goodies in my hand, and very calmly talked to him about taking things that don’t belong to him. I didn’t flip out, because this child is explosive and reactive. I had a very calm and very nice talk about being sneaky, stealing, and asking for things before taking them. I didn’t say a word about the content of the magazine, or about why he had them, or what he was doing with them. Because what do I say? I honestly don’t know. This child is a child and shouldn’t even be thinking about things like this.

I am a pro about sex talks with my kids. Sex isn’t a private matter in this house. It isn’t a dirty word. Questions get answered and discussed weekly. But this child hasn’t even had his first maturation clinic at school. I have yet to see armpit hair or any other outward signs of puberty. I would have NO business talking about SEX with a CHILD! Yet, here I am faced with a child that clearly needs to have something said to him.

I am getting ahead of myself here, because I haven’t even told you about the latest and greatest.

On Sunday night, Hunter walked into the room where Brandon and I were sitting and said, “We have a problem.”
He had been in the computer room and glanced up off his computer and saw in the reflection of my glass cupboards what the other child was viewing on his computer.

Hunter said, “I can see you through the reflection, genius. Get off that computer. I am telling mom.” And that’s exactly what he did.

This child was on a computer that the kids don’t use, because we haven’t hooked up their games and approved sites to it. Desi uses it and the big kids when they are home. Clearly this child knew that things could be accessed on the internet. We pulled up the history and had to make Hunter and Hadley leave the room, it was that bad. He had been viewing this stuff in our presence all weekend long. We sit in the same room he does, but because of the way that computer faces, he was never caught.

He clearly has a problem. He is bold and brave and has little, if any, remorse. He has been grounded from the computer for life. But that doesn’t solve the problem here. That just prevents him from accessing it. In my opinion the problem still exists.

This entire thing is so complicated because of the issues this child has and deals with. If it were any other child, I have great ideas of what to do. Nothing we have done or tried, in regards to other behavioral and emotional problems, has worked with this one. I am truly heartbroken that we have added this, of all things, to his already full plate of things to deal with.

I have contacted a few summer camps with therapeutic behavior specialists and counselors for him to look at. I am willing to wash my hands of summer school for him and just find him something constructive to do with his time and his mind. He needs help and I am not sure where to find it.

I could write novels about the emotional and behavior problems we have dealt with in this child. But honestly, it’s him that’s dealing with it, not me. We are just players in his life. He has been dealt a shitty hand and he is going to have a tough life. We want nothing more for him than happiness.

We spend many nights in bed discussing this kid and what the best thing is to do for him. He just doesn’t fit in any mold. He is my biggest conundrum. I love him dearly and I want him to find peace. I just don’t want that peace to be rated XXX.

Signed-
one frustrated mother

PS- If you are a regular reader, you most likely know which child this is, but please don’t name names in the comments for his sake.

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