Family Reunion

Many days have passed since our little family reunion. All went well and I am still amazed at how niece #2 has grown and matured (she's 18). What a delightful girl -- ex-sister-in-law did an awesome job raising her.

Nephew #2, twelve, showed up with an earring -- which predictably disappeared shortly after his arrival. Nephew #3 and Niece #4 (children of sister) have grown a lot since I saw them last.

When we left Brother #2's house (nephew #3, niece #4 and Matthew were with me -- Connor and Jake with Henry) I pulled into the driveway of 6425 Barnes Road. (One of the houses I grew up in.)

I'm not sure if the house is still haunted by the secrets, lies and abuse that took place there or if various owner's since then were happy there.

Anyway, the kids were fascinated to see the part of our -- their -- history. The siding was changed from the 70's goldenrod to a pale yellow. A window was added to the wall at the top of the stairs that shows at the garage peak. A white fence was added to the porch -- but the yard and turnaround is the same. I wonder if roses still grow there?

"Our" woods is much smaller than when we lived there because of the houses built next to it. I imagine no other family created a whole town within that patch of trees since we left.

Hunter spent Christmas day with DH.

I've been sick since Christmas eve and have stayed in bed. I haven't seen Hunter in a week and it's driving me insane. I've talked with him (briefly -- his choice) daily but it's not the same. I am hoping I feel well enough tomorrow to visit.

Henry and Jake left for New York late Friday, spent three plus hours at the Canadian border and arrived at his parent's house at three-o'clock this morning.

Henry will leave New York early tomorrow morning for home.

Christmas eve morning Aunt J's husband passed away. He was diagnosed terminally five-years ago and everybody gave him six months.

Mom, Sister and Brother-In-Law flew into Michigan today -- although they couldn't arrive in time for the funeral this morning. Mom will be staying with Aunt J for the next week.

I found out today that the mother of a co-worker passed away, too.

Hunter's IEP

DH, as usual, called me this afternoon to tell me he was broke down on the side of the road and waiting for a tow truck so he wouldn't be visiting Hunter tonight. Ironically enough, today is DH's birthday. Surprise, surprise.

I attended Hunter's IEP (Individualized Education Plan) via conference call today and it appears we are all on the same page.

Unfortunately, Hunter had a meltdown shortly after the IEP ended -- although they didn't have to medicate him. He was able to attend dinner with his group in the cafeteria.

During our visit we read one of the books I bought him a few weeks ago. He was very agitated, easily frustrated and not able to stay on task.

Beginning tomorrow, Hunter's Abilify is reduced by one dose and his Lithium increased one dose.

I continue to see the oh-so-familiar-behavior and I can't help but be nervous about him meeting his goals. He's been there 30 days and they have seen his true colors -- a lot -- but my heart still aches.

He climbed into my lap, tucked his arms in and let me rock him. Although it didn't last, it still felt good. I miss him terribly.

I'm still uncertain about how to handle the holiday's with Matthew and Connor. There seems to be so much sadness and emptiness inside me -- how do the kids feel??

Jake is the only one who will have a semi-normal Christmas.

We have no Christmas decorations up, I have done zero shopping -- Henry's done most of it. I couldn't care less -- even trying to focus on the true spirit -- the holiness -- of the season, I feel empty.

It seems weird that Brother #2 and Brother #3 and I will be together on Sunday. I feel zero anxiety this time. I feel at peace since I forgave them -- and they don't even know it.

God, give me strength.

A Long Day

It has been a long day. Actually it's just one in a long string of them.

Matthew's grandfather, Mike, passed away early this morning and that hurt. We knew it was inevitable, but it still hurts.

I talked with Matthew this afternoon but I couldn't read him. He internalizes his feelings to the point that some day he'll bust open. I'm trying to coach him in a different direction -- but I don't seem to be getting through. I'm hoping we can spend time alone together and that he'll let me in.

I understand how it feels to bottle every emotion up and hide it away -- and I also know how long it took me to work through all of it. Layer upon layer, anger, pain, guilt, anxiety.

The holidays are already so far on the bottom of my list of priorities.

Do we attempt the holiday decorations and fake our way through?

Do we call a family meeting, take inventory of everyones emotions and go from there?

Are the kids feeling the same way? Bah-humbug? Are they on autopilot, just trying to get through the days, wishing the year would just end?

Is it possible all of us could be honest about what the holidays mean to us? What they REALLY mean?

I continue to grasp at the wonderful memories of Christmas' past, but I can't seem to bring the warm emotions with them.

For as dysfunctional as we were, Christmas seemed like a break from all the nonsense. So many events are deeply ingrained and -- good or bad - we continue to review them. Rewind, fast forward, slow motion -- it's all the same. We grew older but the baggage followed us. I feel that, at this point in my life, I have freed myself from 98% of the baggage.

I had to forgive people that don't even know I have forgiven them. Do they deserve it? Not really -- but I didn't do it for them, I did it for me because I needed to move on.

I visited Hunter tonight. DH (Hunter's dad) actually showed up but didn't stay for the scheduled meeting with Michelle (therapist). Something about his car lease ending and buying. Total lies, I'm sure.

Henry joined via conference call and it felt so much more "normal" for me. He knows how far we've come -- he knows all there is to know about Hunter. He is Hunter's "dad", DH will never be that because he is way too selfish. He won't commit to Hunter and Henry and I are left to pick up the pieces. Nothing new, but it is getting old. We can't make DH be something he's not and I know he will disappear again. He always does.

Hunter and his well-being are number one priorities. Thanks to Hawthorn we are able to make Jake, Connor and Matthew #1, too. Something long overdue and, our hope is, not too late.

The shift of schedules and responsibilities still has us spinning but 26 days into his residential treatment we are still trying to readjust.

Michelle validated our hard work, motivation and devotion to help Hunter. She said she rarely sees families so involved and participatory.

I'm not sure about how Henry felt hearing that, but it thrilled me no end.

Hunter is still slow to follow directions, easily agitated and frustrated and transitions are still a huge hurdle for him. My guess is he has progressed very little on the goals they've identified for him. I told Michelle I thought Hunter would be there six months or more.

She seemed very slightly surprised at my statement. Which makes me wonder how far off base I am.

DH and I were able to discuss a few things during our visit with Hunter. I explained Medicaid, CMH (Community Mental Health) and SSI and that his Friend of the Court (child support) payments were considered income for Hunter.

I also explained if the parents were responsible for any financial contributions that I would send him the bill and proof of payment for him to reimburse us. I told him he had a certain number of days to pay or FOC would get involved.

I brought up what FOC was doing: credit bureau, suspending his driver's/CDL license and order him to go before the judge -- NOT the referee, the JUDGE. Which means he will have one of two choices, pay now or go to jail.

I'm truly offended that after all Hunter, Henry, Jake, Connor, Matthew and me have been through he chooses how to play dad. He won't stick around. His track record speaks for itself. This will undoubtedly set Hunter's progress backwards a great deal -- something he can't begin to grasp.

I was finally able to talk with my dad about Grandmother's passing and I feel so much better. I still hurt and long for her, but I was able to share my feelings with someone who was there at the end.

Sunday is THE Christmas party at Brother #2's and I am actually looking forward to it. Odd, I know, but I feel at peace with it somehow. Something tells me this will be one of the few times most of us will gather as a family and we should enjoy it for what it is. Having most of my nieces and nephews there will be wonderful. I haven't seen so many of them in such a long time -- niece #2 especially.

My sister will be the only sibling not in attendance because she and her husband went to Arizona to see mom and step dad for Christmas.

I have been trying to take inventory of my emotions most of the day but I can't seem to identify them. I'm calm, introspective and philosophical -- odd for me.

My Therapist

I met with Malissa (therapist) tonight and she gave me a lot to think about. We talked about a lot of things and I walked away feeling a little lighter. Not so much "freer" but I took some weight off my soul, and I needed that.

I told her I didn't know who I was, what my purpose was and why I was here. In all the chaos and drama I feel as though I lost "me" somewhere along the way.

I can't even put into words the emptiness I feel inside. I mean the complete emptiness.

I can't gather emotions to identify; I can't open my mind and heart to let the holiday spirit come in. I feel so bah-humbug and I can't because I have four boys to bring the thrill of Christmas to.

I've never been a big fan of the holiday's to begin with -- my excitement over what Christmas Eve/Day meant ended in 1978. Although Grandmother kept me believing in the miracle for a long time after that. Her home -- and in her presence -- were where I belonged. She loved unconditionally and forgave our faults. Her faith and spirituality shone bright around her.

How I long for the holidays at her house. Her traditions of food, decorations, generosity. Her home overflowed with love and warmth and familiarity.

God, please guide me in recreating what I can of those days with her. Guide me toward the light that shined brightly around her. I've lost my way, my faith and spirituality have been tested to the nth degree and I need to be guided back to the right path. I need you, God, to help me find the strength, the energy, the desire to continue this journey. I'm beaten down and I want to change that. I want to give my all to you and your power of love and guidance. I can draw strength and knowledge from you, but I don't know where to start. God, please help me find my way back to you and the path you've chosen for me. I know what I need to do from there. Amen.

Day 17

I feel raw, overexposed. My outsides feel as raw as my insides and I don't know how to stop it.

Day 17 of Hunter's stay at Hawthorn. Day 17 of 92 -- more or less. No one knows.

Hunter's first "ride" pass -- from 4 - 8 PM.

Matthew and Connor joined us for the visit.

The first 90 minutes of the visit were shaky and "familiar" to me. Henry, Matthew and Connor visited a sports store while Hunter and I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond. Hunter was anxious and agitated when we entered the store and escalated to agitation and frustration quickly. At one point Hunter dropped to the floor and refused to get up. I asked for a ten-to-collect -- which he also refused. His voice and body movements showed him to be on the way to a full meltdown. His voice was louder, higher pitched and on the verge of screeching. His arms were flailing his feet in tantrum mode. The entire incident lasted about ten minutes and we moved on to the next store (Barnes and Noble). At B&N Hunter still seemed anxious and agitated but more interested in the contents of the store. We poked around craft kits and the children's section -- but he was totally attention deficit.

He seemed so interested in his surroundings that he could not focus on just one thing. Several times he wandered off to other areas -- but never far enough that I was concerned because I was able to quickly spot him. He seemed to just meander around -- and I think he was overstimulated. The store was semi-busy, not chaotic -- and that could have contributed to another floor-sit and ten-to-collect.

After purchasing a book for him we left the store, reconnected with Henry and the boys and drove to the movie theatre.

We chose "Brother Bear" and everyone enjoyed it. Hunter even produced a few belly laughs. During the movie he ate a pretzel and drank an Icee. He was quite squirmy during the entire movie and I escorted him to the bathroom (because he needed to use it).

After returning from the bathroom he continued to squirm and reposition. I had created a nest of coats next to me so he could lean against me -- which he did several times. It appeared no position he chose was comfortable for him and I tried to analyze why.

We did have a few moments where he snuggled right up to me and held my hand.

When the movie was over we still had about an hour before returning Hunter to Hawthorn. We decided to stop at Best Buy. When we were near the entrance to the store, Hunter threw up all over the sidewalk. (No fever.) Although he said he felt better, he seemed (to me) to become quite lethargic. Hunter and his brother's played video games in the store and Hunter eventually lay down on the floor to rest. I rounded everybody up and we headed back to Hawthorn.

When I checked him back in I spoke with Nurse Sue and briefly explained the behaviors and throwing up. She said a virus was making its way through the center and that she would monitor him closely through the next 24-hours.

I want to say that the pass went well, but I have to take into account his inability to control himself (agitation showed loud and clear) and lack of focus.

I saw most of the behaviors on the pass that I've seen before admission to Hawthorn. I didn't have pie-in-the-sky expectations that he would be completely different. I was just hoping I wouldn't see so much drama (that we're more than used to) in his inability to cope and pull himself together faster because I was there supporting and coaching him.

High points: cuddling, kissing and interacting outside of Hawthorn. It felt more "normal" and real -- less therapeutic/hospital-like.

Low points: his anxiety, agitation and inability to redirect his frustration constructively (verbally: "this is what's wrong"). His mini-meltdown also distressed me because it was too familiar.

Next steps: continue visitation, support and communication with Hunter; look forward to the next pass by taking one day at a time.

I think I feel raw because I took quite a bit of time talking to Matthew and Connor about Hunter, the shift in where Henry and my focus would be -- back on them. I was completely honest and admitted we were aware our attention to them always came second. I also told them we didn't "blame" Hunter because he had no control over his brain. Neither of them comprehended the seriousness of Hunter's condition so I laid it out in black and white. It is imperative we surround and support Hunter in his treatment now because if we didn't -- or didn't continue to -- one of two things would happen: he would kill somebody or kill himself. That statement got their attention -- because they finally "got it". They knew I was serious and telling them the truth. I told them that they have a brother with a disability -- he was mentally ill. Connor "thought he was just bipolar" and I told him it was the same thing.

There seems to be so many things happening all at once. Although the chaos of Hunter and his constant needs, troubles and behaviors has been temporarily removed -- other things have begun to fill that emptiness.

Matthew's grandfather is at the end of his life. That makes me sad because he and his wife Ginny were always good to me.

The divide between Henry and me doesn't seem to be closing very quickly.

We have been focusing all of our energy on Hunter that we don't know what to do with each other.

We've been through so much together -- besides Hunter -- and I truly believe our relationship is strong enough to bring us back together.

Me

I feel empty.
I feel that my insides are on vacation and it's just a shell walking around.

"How are you today?"

I'm NOT good! My son is in a RTC (Residential Treatment Center), my heart is shattered, I can't grasp the meaning.

I don't want to always say "I'm good".

I want to say I'm hurting, I'm alone, I'm disconnected from myself. I'm disconnected from the world, my being. My body and mind are not in synch, my thoughts are scattered. My time is empty. I have space I don't want. I have time I don't need.

I want
quiet
peace
solace
space
to be left alone
to hide
to search my soul
to find myself

I need to reconnect to me
my world
my children

I've sold my soul.

I've given away private parts of me.

I have allowed others to take whatever they needed, never asking for anything in return.

A Visit

(A journal entry after a visit with Hunter at the Residential Treatment Center (RTC). Hunter was almost seven.)

Seeing Hunter is bittersweet.

My need to hold and shelter him.

My knowing that there is nothing more I can do to help him.

Waiting patiently to see him, being cast aside. Not deliberately, or to hurt -- just because he's a kid.

I heard the belly laugh and silliness tonight WARMED my heart.

Henry

We've taken a detour but we can find our way back.

Me

(A journal entry about how I was feeling.)

Empty
Want to be away from self
Hide
Dead
Fear unknown
Transitions
Wanting everything
Needing nothing
Hollow
Split personality? "How are you doing?"
Being honest.
How much?

So many thoughts flow quickly through my brain and I cannot compartmentalize all the chaos.

Hunter

(A journal entry during the first extended hospitalization of Hunter.)

Grief

• You being away from me.
• Not tucking you into bed.
• Not my backseat buddy.
• Martha McBride is silenced.
• Holidays -- go away.
• Stop the world for my grief.

Loneliness:

• Quiet house.
• No chaos.
• No phone calls (from school, daycare).
• No meltdowns.