After my weekend “in bed” I knew Monday morning I had to get up to get everyone ready for school. Thomas was the toughest as he would be aggressive with me upon waking up. The girls would stay in their rooms until he calmed down a bit. My alarm would go off and I’d lay there in bed a few minutes petting my cat named Cash, psyching myself up for the task of waking up Thomas. Cash is one beautiful cat. Long, white and tan hair with the bluest eyes. I swear The Lord sent her to me. We found her as a stray.
Anyway…mornings sucked. I’d somehow manage to get Thomas up, he dressed himself then give him his meds, breakfast, then wait for the bus. It was not easy or pleasant. Sometimes he calmed down when the bus came sometimes not. The school was aware of what was going on but they couldn’t help me other than assure me about the residential placement we were waiting on.
Living with me at this time was terrible. I was irritable, moody, I had no patience and would snap at anybody. Tommy and I argued quite a bit and I know I was the cause of most of them. I was miserable, I had no joy in my life and felt like a worthless human being with no purpose in life.
Tommy told me I had to find a therapist. I agreed even though I was terrified. We found a list online of psychologists and social workers/therapists that take our insurance and I started calling. I left message after message and NO ONE called me back. Oh wait, one did call me back…a week later. I was so pissed off I told her since she took a week to call me back I wasn’t interested anymore. Not to brag but my husband has excellent health benefits, I felt like I was waving around good insurance for therapy and no one wanted it. It was bizarre.
This went on for weeks. In the middle of it all our church was putting on it’s Easter production, the story of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I’m in the choir and my two older girls were dancers. Any chance I had I went to church, it was my lifeline and escape. I felt safe in church. Performing in the Easter Production was a perfect distraction and gave me a purpose. I found the songs we sang to be so comforting, as well as singing for The Lord.
Singing with the choir wasn’t always so peaceful for me. There were many times I felt like a fraud singing up there. Fearing at any moment someone would point and yell from the congregation, “Fake! Loser! Fraud!” Because I thought so little of myself I figured I was transparent. There was also a time or two when I had to leave church when the choir was singing because Thomas was having a meltdown and Tommy wanted me home.
Finally, finally I started seeing Nancy who I’ve mentioned before. I know The Lord placed her in my life. She is wonderful and just what I need in a therapist. I even enjoy the traveling to her office in Manhattan. When I started seeing Nancy I was a mess and I cried through every one of our early sessions. After a month or so I decided to see the psychiatrist, Dr. L who was treating Thomas. He was fine with seeing both of us. I was scared to death of medication and I made sure Dr. L knew that. He started me off with an anti anxiety medication at a very low dose, after a couple of months I agreed to an antidepressant as well. I had to trust him, I desperately wanted to feel better. I also know Dr. L was placed in my life by The Lord. Things don’t work out in such a “coincidental” way, no they don’t. They are planned by God. The way I look at it, I’m trusting God who put Dr. L in my life so I must trust Dr. L as he was placed in my life by God.
I have to say for me to get to that point of trust was huge. I was so used to trying to control everything with my son. When I finally let go of that control and realized God has his own plan it was a relief