Shit Happens

I’m frustrated.

I’m also tired which I know is just adding to the frustration.

Recent events have led back to insomnia. I just can’t get my mind to stop racing with out taking a little pill and I’m paranoid about becoming dependent on little pills, so I avoid them. I know, I have too many hang ups.

It’s not so much that I’m afraid I’ll become an addict or abuser, but I don’t want to be dependent on a pill or anything to get me through my days or nights. I realize that at this point in my life, I may need to take the pills to deal with situational circumstances…and I keep reminding myself that the situation will resolve and life will go on and the pills can go buh bye.

Oh, if I could only fast forward to the point where all of this makes sense in the big picture.

I’m frustrated with Pickle. No, I’m not frustrated with him, I’m frustrated with the circumstances we’re facing – together. While I usually handle this much more gracefully, there are points where it’s stressful and frustrating and this is one of those points. I’ve spent the last year trying to get his epilepsy under control and as we were getting that under wraps, behavioral issues flared up because of his strained relationship with EX.

Everyone involved with him has commented on how much more animated and interactive he has become since supervised visits went back into effect. It is as if the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders. But last week as we were dealing with other traumas for other children, he exhibited a resolved behavior. At first, I slightly suspected he was acting out because my attention was on the other two and well, he just doesn’t deal well without having all the attention he is accustomed to.

Because he struggles so much with communicating what is going on with him, the most I could understand is that he didnt have enough time. Its as if he decided it would be neat to see how long he could hold it but forgot that he couldn’t hold it. Bizarre, I know.

So after three days of wetting, I had to drag him in to see his urologist. He does have some kidney/reflux issues and I had to be sure there wasn’t a physical problem before we dealt with the behavior. Kidneys were ok, urine was ok, but the ultrasound revealed that he was holding it in, both ends….which means the backend was putting to much pressure on the front end and couple that with him holding it, for reasons beyond anyone’s comprehension, and you have a mess, literally.

The solution is going back to his bathroom schedule. The doctor gives him these instructions, they are familiar to us, not so bad. Until I make the realization later in the day that this concept was a little too much for him and so he was literally, just going INTO the bathroom and sitting fully clothed on top of the lid for 5 mins. It was a nuisance but also sorta funny.
I had to break it down for him, walking him to the bathroom, explaining in as much detail as possible what it was he needed to do, without physically undoing his pants and placing him on the toilet.

Unless, you have dealt with this, I cannot explain how completely frustrating it is. I also cannot make you understand how hard it is to break down basic concepts to someone with little to no short term memory. Its pretty hard, especially when by all accounts, he should understand them. I catch myself thinking: ‘Really, I have to explain to a 13 yr old how to go to the bathroom?’ Where does this information go? Is it ever going to get better? Does this child need anymore obstacles? If you had told me 10 years ago when I met him that I would be raising him alone, I couldn’t have fathomed it. It’d be nice to have a little pity party for myself. Boo hoo, I adopted EX’s child and now he’s bailed and it’s so hard, boo hoo….but I don’t have time. And honestly, I almost feel guilty for feeling frustrated cause as hard as it is on me, it’s gotta be harder on him. He’s living all this. He didn’t ask for this either. We’re both just trying to figure out this puzzle with all its pieces.

Finally got an appointment with a new behavioral therapist this afternoon. Hoping that will yield positive results for the kid.

Off to close my eyes for an hour or so before I put on my strong, Mom mask again.


I didn’t get to close my eyes, I couldn’t sleep. Mind was racing. However, I did put on the strong, Mom mask again and was able to pick up son and take him to his appointment. While we were sitting in the waiting room, this foul smell kept bothering me and then the sudden realization struck me:

OH SHIT – literally. He wasn’t phased at all. Took him to the bathroom, cleaned it out as best I could. Come out of bathroom, approached by therapist, explain situation, she isn’t phased….she realizes he isn’t phased…appointment proceeds as planned, with the addition of a foul odor.

Therapist commended me. I don’t know why but this made me cry. She told me that I had done a wonderful job with him despite the circumstances. She recognized that this situation can’t be easy because I “inherited” it. I didn’t sign up for this willingly, but I’m making the most of it. Sometimes its nice to be validated. But then I felt like it was the good news before the bad.

She point blank told me that my son would never go to college or get married or have children and that he would more than likely live in a group home after graduation. She assured me that him experiencing independence outside of the home without ME is essential to his development. I’m sorry, I understand that there is expertise and experience and resources that I don’t have that could help him and I know that I want to be as successful as he can possibly be but this is a concept I couldn’t wrap my head around…someone else taking care of my child?

It’s almost funny that I am the one questioning letting someone else take care of my child, when he will no longer be a “child”….when I, in fact, am raising this child because two other people in his life didn’t question letting someone else take care of their child.  Oh, the irony.

Too much.                          BLOG END.

5 thoughts on “Shit Happens

  1. Wow,this is very tough duty–worse than my wife caring for her mother and aunt–one with a stroke and the other with Alzheimer. Yours is a like a constant stress requiring detailed actions. I mostly just went along with my wife’s idea of bringing the gals in, but I sure wish that I had spoke up on some issues like–power of attorney, paid staff to relive us, etc.I could not tell if you ever had a break. blessingsfrank

  2. @ANVRSADDAY – I get a break once a week when my parents take the children to a church group that resembles Girl/Boy Scouts but the worry is constantly there. I think the worst part is that I don’t let myself have feelings about it. If I start to express my frustration or stress….anger, I start to beat myself for having these feelings. I’ve been told that I’m entitled to my feelings more times than I can recount….if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard it, I could afford that paid staff you mentioned. : )

  3. thanks for stopping by my site.  Your poor boy – he is lucky to have you & I can’t believe you have to deal witih all of this.  Puts a lot of other problems and complaints into perspective, doesn’t it? 

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