Part 26 emotional rock bottom

When the treatment team requested Residential Treatment for Younger Kid in September, 06 and it was declined I thought that was because people did not believe us. I thought they thought we must be exagerating Younger Kid's behaviors and that perhaps we had convinced the treatment team to go along with us.

They said "no" to Residential Treatment and stated as their reason that they could serve Younger Kid better right here in our community. Younger Kid went to a local group home where there was barely enough supervision to keep him safe, let alone promote any healing or meaningful change.

I thought they thought we were whiners or parents who were not up to the challenge. Having that treatment denied felt like, "You adopted him. You did this to yourself. Deal with it." I remember someone saying to me once, "Pre adoptive parents need to be screened better. We don't have these kinds of problems with kids adopted from our county." As if my husband and I were never fit to have the boys in the first place. It still makes me shake my head in disbelief. It still hurts.

Bear called me one day about an incident at Eagle View. He described what happened and asked me, "How in the world did you manage Younger Kid in your home for so long?" Shortly after that, my husband and I went to Eagle View to visit our kid and one of the staff told us Younger Kid was one of the most challenging he could remember. The guy had worked there for years.
Finally it felt like people believed us! And they wanted to help. Bear said he thought he and his staff could help Younger Kid.

Younger Kid was so mad at me for leaving him at Eagle View. He could not believe I did that. (He wasn't mad at my husband--just me.) At first he would call me yelling. I did not want him anymore. I had a new baby so I dumped him at treatment. When I did not feel guilty enough to come right up and get him, he called with stories that the staff were abusing him. Younger Kid told me one of them ran him over with a tractor. He wanted me to come up there and "rescue" him. I went to Eagle View, and in front of the whole treatment team, I told my son that if there was a discrepancy in the stories he told me vs. the stories the staff told me, I would be believing the staff. I sat in front of Rachel and Bear and told my kid he wasn't leaving Eagle View until they said he was better. That was hard. I was not used to siding with the professionals. But, Bear and Rachel had given me reasons to trust them. So, I made that leap.

Until fairly recently, I always believed we had found the anwer and we were one step away from finding Younger Kid whatever he needed. I always believed we were one step away from being a regular family. I had high expectations for the Eagle View staff. I believed that after a few months or maybe a year, Younger Kid would be better. I was looking for the answer. I believed someone had it. Someone knew what to do. Someone would know how to fix it.

Eagle View has a series of parent meetings every year. I went to a few. I sat eagerly awaiting the answer. In one of the meetings, December 2007, the speaker was talking about what to do when a kid becomes violent. Someone in that meeting said that allowing a kid to use violence to get what they want was a mistake. ***blink*** Allowing?? Tears started falling. Allowing? As if I had a choice. One of the parents said something about being tough enough to just send the kid to his room. Seriously?! Was that mother really that clueless or was it me? I cried so much I had to leave the meeting. I cried for hours afterwards. I never had the luxury of "allowing". My kid lost control and was sometimes violent. I had been a victim of that violence. There was no "allowing". I did not have a choice.

Grief has been a part of my parenting experience. We brought Younger Kid home knowing of his past violent tendancies. We knew there was risk involved. But we expected a different outcome. We expected football practice, basketball tournaments, fast cars, and girlfriends and maybe a little trouble thrown in. We never counted on mental illness. We never ever even imagined things would get so bad that our kid would not be able to live with us.

A friend of mine tells a story about a vacation. Imagine you are planning an island vacation. It is an expensive trip and it requires a lot of planning--a year or more. You plan to leave in winter so you buy new swimsuits and pack extra beach clothes. Even though it is winter and freezing outside, you wear flip flops to the airport and drink little umbrella drinks on the plane. It is a long but enjoyable flight and as the plane is about to land the Captain comes over the speaker and says, "Welcome to Holland. The temperature is a chilly 15 degrees. There is a fresh foot of snow for skiing!" Holland! What?! Wait a minute! I am going to the beach! I am wearing flip flops!! Snow! I don't think so!

Holland can be an enjoyable place. Hot chocolate and cozy fires, snowmen and skiing. But, it is not the beach. An adjustment is required. That is sort of what it is like to find out your child is living with an illness. An adjustment is required. Grief is part of the process.

I know it sounds unbelievable, but I did not recognize that my kid was so ill. I was in denial for a long time. I can still talk myself into the idea that he is just fine. That day at the parent meeting was the first clue I had that maybe no one had the answer I had been searching for. Maybe we were never going to be a regular family.

Rachel would listen to me in family therapy. She sat and listened as I processed my thoughts out loud. She would remind me gently not to say "hopeless". I ws so beat up. I remember sitting on the floor crying in front of Rachel and I feel sorry for the person I was. That was emotional rock bottom. Over time, I got better.

When I speak to professionals, someone always raises their hand and stumbles over the words they want to say. "Well, Advocate Mom, the thing is, you see, the thing is that....well, not all parents are like you." It happens every single time I speak. Every time.

My response? I was not always like this. And you better believe I am telling the truth.

I challenge professionals to look again at the most challenging parents they are serving. Look again at the mother who is screaming at you. She is frustrated. She is terrified. No one has an answer. Everyone seems to want to blame her. She is also looking for someone to blame. Then I tell the professionals things they can do to help parents. We talk about meaningful ways they can support families like mine.

I don't want another parent to go through what I went through. I know it happens. But, I want parents to be supported. I want professionals and the general public to understand. That's what I can give back. I can talk. (I can talk all day) and I can write. I can make a point. And sometimes, I can influence people to think differently. So, that is what I do.

The day of that meeting, the "allowing" meeting, I did not know another parent like me. I did not know anyone who had a kid living in treatment. Even though I sat in that meeting in a room full of parents, none of us talked to each other. I work to change that. Next time, I will tell you the story of meeting other parents.