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A short visit

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I’m sitting here right where I’m supposed to be wondering what the heck just happened.  Our son came home for a weekend visit.  We had a great time a couple of weeks ago at his school picnic.  He was wonderful with me.  But this weekend, no.   It started this afternoon after church with a bit of defiant behavior nothing huge or big until you look back.  this afternoon Thomas absolutely did not want me along for the trip to Home Depot with Tommy.  I was going that was it, that’s the way it is.  Tommy managed to coax Thomas to getting in the car.  Thomas stated loud and clear that he wasn’t speaking to me. Fine.

Home Depot went well we decided on and bought a new upstairs hallway light fixture. While Tommy was installing said light fixture my son felt the need to verbally insult me to the point where Tommy asked him to go downstairs. No problem. We have dinner and all seems calmer. That’s cool. Around 7pm while Samantha and I were cruising the American Girl website discussing the finer points of American Girl Dolls and which one would make the better Christmas gift, Thomas walks over and starts verbally berating me. After about 20 minutes Tommy got him to sit with him on the couch and watch tv. Thomas still isn’t done and announces that we shouldn’t call him at school and he isn’t calling us. Fine. Then Thomas decides he wants to go back to school NOW. Tommy tells me to pack his stuff. I did as I’m told and they are on their way to Yonkers.

I don’t know why I’m writing this out. My head still doesn’t understand why this child feels he can say things that are not very nice to me. Why I am his target. I’ve heard all the professional explanations and logically I know it’s not my “fault”. I know if he were a typical child he would say things that aren’t “nice”. I get that as I have a typical 15 yr old. However she doesn’t look for me to aim insults at or call me names that aren’t true.

We are not used to this behavior. We don’t live this way anymore. Praise God I have a level headed husband. The moment Thomas said he wanted to go back Tommy was on his feet. Tommy is my greatest defender. Every day I thank God for putting him in my life.

Where you are supposed to be

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After choir practice this past Thursday night a fellow choir member/friend and I started chatting. She was telling me about when she was going through a difficult time and how our Pastor said during service that even though some people may appear to not be worshipping during church, those people are right where they’re supposed to be, sitting in church.

I know I’ve said this before, I have really wonderful friends. My friend didn’t know I had already written in my blog that maybe this wasn’t the time for my business to take off as it isn’t the time God wants it to happen. I am just where I am supposed to be. I love this. If someone had said that to me a year or so ago I might not have liked it but it still would have rang true.

As of this moment I’m glad to be where I am, where God wants me. I’ve spent the better part of the last year and a half cursing my station in life and putting myself down as a stay at home mom. I was convinced because I wasn’t filling a role within a company and earning a paycheck that I was worthless. But…right here is exactly where God wants and has wanted me to be.

I believe it’s all about trust in The Lord. We have to trust His judgement and follow with faith. I don’t believe we know better than God, that what we want is what we should always get. I expected and wanted a “typical” son. That didn’t happen instead I was given a gift of a boy who challenged me and in that process those many challenges tore me down so I could be rebuilt spiritually.

I began attending church again when things were going well in my life. Thomas was stable on his meds, my family was in a relatively calm state. I was able to join a bible study group. Life was really nice and I accepted Christ as my Saviour. I realized I had a church family when things started unraveling, the med changes and hospitalizations, etc… God placed me in church at the right moment. When life was good I was exactly where I was supposed to be so when things became rough we would have the support and people to support us during that time. Our God is amazing.

Optimism

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Sooooooo I’ve seen my therapist and doctor and I’m back to feeling happy :).  I’m glad to have nipped things in the bud and be able to return to my regularly scheduled programming of thrifting.  Today I scored a gorgeous pair of Antik denim and on Tuesday…Tuesday I found a pair of True Religions!!!   Eeeeeek  :). Forgive me for repeating about the True’s I’ve been on a hunt for those for a long time. I’ve already skinnied those jeans that needed skinny -ing.  Have I mentioned that I sew?   I do for those not in the know.   

My son is coming home this weekend. I’m very happy about that. I’m also very happy that our relationship has been repaired. I’m not afraid of him anymore and when Thomas calls here from school he’s happy to talk on the phone with me and tell me about his day. True to Thomas form he will readily admit if he had a “bad day” and what his actions were to make it bad. Gotta love him for the honesty. He’s been that honest since he was small.

I’m sitting here happy that I have nothing to report depression wise. But as a result I’m not sure what to write about. Why does it seem easier to write about sad subjects than happy ones? When I was writing out my story of Thomas the words flew out my fingers while typing. I’d kept them pent up for too long. Now it’s like a weight has been lifted and I can look forward with optimism. I’m even debating going blonde again, but then again maybe I won’t. I’m fickle like that, always have been.

I’m feeling more optimistic about my business (www.nayaudo.com). Maybe I’m not supposed to be at the place yet where it takes off. I need to remember that I am not in charge here, God is and He has His own plan and His own timing.

Standing still ?

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I know I wrote “Moving Forward” recently.  I really believed I was going someplace.  Where?  I have no idea.  This past  weekend it hit me hard that I’m not going anywhere and I felt the depression sneaking back in.  I don’t think I’ve ever been so frustrated (aside from trying to get help for my son).  Now I’m fighting for me and I worry am I strong enough?  Determined enough?  

I feels as though I have tackled and defeated the demons that plagued me concerning Thomas.  But the ones plaguing me still need to be conquered.  The fear and uncertainty of who I am or want to be other than a wife and mother Is rocking my world.  In no way do I wish to abandon my present roles.  I want to fully embrace them while creating and nurturing a separate role that is mine alone.  Make sense?

Thank God I was able to locate a new to me thrift store in Manhattan and score a pair of True Religions. At least in my thrift life all is right.

No title :)

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This past year I had a difficult time no doubt.  Battling depression while accepting my son being at residential school and raising my girls.  In a way I thought the girls might be “easy” to deal with now that I wasn’t on guard all the time from Thomas. Ha!  A grade schooler, a pre-teen and a full fledged teen.  All girls.  It’s been interesting, sometimes amusing and sometimes I’m ready to pull my hair out. There have also been plenty of times my heart has swelled with pride and they make me laugh or cry with their greatness.  By the way, I’ve already apologized to my mother for my behavior as a teen.  Yes I did.

With Thomas away I had a chance to re-group as his mother. The school staff was now pretty much “in charge” of the majority of his needs and as much as I dislike to admit it, I welcomed the break. The staff is wonderful and kept me informed of when Thomas needed to see the doctor, medications given if he had a cold, etc… I can’t complain at all and I know we are fortunate. God placed him there as I’ve written before, I’m confident of that fact.

This break also gave me a chance to heal and take care of the bruises that you couldn’t see. As already mentioned I take medication and I’m in therapy. Both choices were difficult but absolutely necessary. Even though life wasn’t perfect and adjustments needed to be made I was able to parent my girls, be a wife to my husband, take a class at the local city college and start my own business (www.nayaudo.com ;)). Most importantly my relationship with my son was healed. I can’t imagine being on my guard with him all the time like I was. These days when we visit him at school or Thomas comes home for a visit I’m happy and realize how much I’ve missed him. My son. He’s mine.image

These days

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Image

These days I’m feeling better and dare I say happy at times? I told Nancy this and she was thrilled for me which I thought was really sweet.

The picture I posted is me at a recent festival/fair I attended to promote my business. I am a personal shopper specializing…wait for it…specializing in the thrift! Yes I am :). I have a website http://www.nayaudo.com where I have some of my current inventory. I mainly take requests of a designer or style of clothing one is searching for. If I find it at the thrift my cost is low so your (the customer) price is low as well. I’m more than happy to look for just about anything for anyone. Clothes and shoes though let’s not get carried away.

So getting back to me being happy. I don’t feel odd or euphoric I just feel like “me” and it’s been so long since I’ve felt this way. I’m not 100% and still on the quiet side and I can get lost in my thoughts and insecurities. But I’ve learned to open up a bit especially to Tommy. I take medication too, something I neverever in a million years thought I would do. Part of me felt like a hypocrite as I was terrified of meds, meanwhile my son takes meds. I’m over that now and honestly if I need meds for years or however long my doctor feels necessary I’m ok with that. Depression is effin serious man.

I had thoughts and said things when I was depressed that I couldn’t imagine thinking or saying when I’m just “me”.
Depression is real, it’s more than feeling blue and you can do something or treat yourself to snap out of it. It’s dark and scary and can be dangerous and not a place I want to revisit.

As scary as depression is asking for help can be almost equally as scary. It was for me anyway. As I waited for the elevator to see my psychiatrist the first time I wanted to throw up. I was so, so nervous. But once I was in his office and completely honest about what I was thinking and how I felt, I wasn’t afraid anymore, actually it was good to get it out to someone I knew wouldn’t judge me and wasn’t afraid of what I was saying. I have a wonderful doctor and I’m sure I’m fortunate to have found him without much searching. He is in Manhattan so I have a small commute but it is so worth it, plus there’s a Goodwill across the street. ;).

Keeping the faith

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I have to say when I was at my lowest during my depression is when I would feel so far from God.  I wasn’t angry with him but it was difficult to pray and worship, but…once I started it was wonderful and I would remember how much I wanted to praise Him and thank The Lord for literally holding me up because I know I wasn’t standing on my feet due to my own strength.   I listen to contemporary Christian music when I’m home and especially in the car.  Those songs were gentle reminders of the grace our Lord has gifted to us as well as reminding me I wasn’t as useless and a loser as I thought I was.  That God The Father does love me.  

There was one particular time I was on my way to visit Thomas at the hospital. I was by myself for the 2 hour ride and found a Christian radio station that broadcasted sermons about a half hour long each. I believe this was either just before or just as I was starting to see Nancy and Dr. L. The Pastor on the radio was talking about suicide. That some religions believe you will go to hell if you commit suicide. This Pastor didn’t believe that instead he talked about how your body is a gift from God and how could you destroy that gift? He kept enforcing our body was this “gift” and you don’t destroy something from God. I can honestly say this Pastor saved my life. I was such a mess at that time and kept it all to myself, I didn’t have the words and everything seemed overwhelming. I believed friends and family were afraid of me that they didn’t know what to say to me. My dearest friend Jackie called me when it seemed I was feeling so alone. Every. Time. That was The Lord directing her. No doubt about it.

Every day my husband would text me, morning and afternoon to make sure I was “ok”. When I was with my husband was the only time I felt “safe”. He still texts me every morning.

One of the women I used to attend Bible study with called me just about every week to say hello and ask how I was. Many times I could barely answer her to say “I’m fine” or I would start crying. I’ve told her she helped save my life with those short, weekly phone calls. She was absolutely being guided by the Holy Spirit and I’ll never be able to thank her enough.

Cheryl the pastor’s wife told me she had me in her prayers when I never even knew it.

The Lord was with me, holding me up when I needed him to. He sent radio Pastors and friends long distance and close by to let me know I was not alone. He gave me a thoughtful husband. All the little things add up and can only equal the work of Him.

What to do with myself?

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When September, 2012 came around I decided we/I needed a break from running around.  I didn’t encourage any extracurricular activities and thankfully it went unnoticed by the girls, until around November.  The thought of running here and there like I did last year was too much to even think about never mind actually do. The year before the girls had taken gymnastics and even Thomas has a class which was run by “On Your Mark” an agency that serves the developmentally disabled. I thought it was the coolest that he was in that class and so did the girls but after a few hospitalizations Thomas refused to go and no amount of pleading or cajoling would change his mind.

If Tommy was home I would take the girls and stay to watch them in the waiting room of the gym. Most times there was all this small talk and chit chat from the other parents waiting. I couldn’t talk much or participate my depression was that bad. I would look down or away at anyone who looked my way. To be honest I found most of them annoying. I mean how does one make small talk when the only thing rattling around in your brain is how useless you are? It’s a terrible state to be in. There were many times I sat there holding back tears due to the horrible things I thought about myself.

In the meantime when Alyssa and Daniella were asking me why wouldn’t I talk to anyone. I told them flat out I didn’t like the other parents and I was happy to be alone. Towards the end of the school year I did get friendly with another mother who happens to live around the corner. She is one of those people who I’d call “low maintenance”. She had no drama and pretty much kept to herself as well. Perfect.

I was seeing Dr. L and trialing different meds. Some would work for awhile and then stop working. He would up the dosage, I’d gain weight and get pissed but then the increase would kick in and I could deal with the weight gain. It was a roller coaster and not a fun one at that.

I couldn’t stay home because I would be alone with my thoughts and that wasn’t safe. I couldn’t go to the mall everyday and shop, my husband would’ve had a cow and rightfully so, getting a job was out of the question as I was barely holding it together as it was. This is where the thrift shopping comes in. I could shop or just go through racks on a mad hunt for designer items. I’m guessing I have a very serious face while thrifting. Alyssa came with me a few times and said, “oh my gosh Mom! You should see your face!” That made me laugh and it makes me smile to this day. Not many people talk to me when I’m at the thrift store.

I also became a snobby thrifter. I refused to buy anything I could “afford”. I only wanted things I would never pay retail for as the retail cost of those items are crazed. An example is denim. I would (and still do) only buy premium denim such as Citizens of Humanity, Seven For All Mankind, Madewell, etc… On my birthday I scored a Chanel top. The prices were so low it was awesome.

So there you have it my answer to getting out of the house when you are suffering from depression: Thrift store :).

The Sail School

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So after finding out there was another boy vying for this one open space, Tommy and I were frustrated. We came home and I called Cheryl, the Pastors wife and she prayed for us. About a week or so later Admissions Woman called and made an appointment to bring Thomas up to the school. To say we were hopeful is an understatement.

We arrive and we were met by Admissions Woman and another staff member. For the life of me I can’t remember her name or title. They did a mini assessment of Thomas, asked a few questions and then they asked Tommy to take Thomas out of the room so they could talk to me. It was then I was informed that the other boy had filled the available opening. My face froze, I didn’t know what to say. All I thought of was now I have to explain this to my husband. That he took a day off work for nothing. I couldnt speak, couldn’t even ask them why they had us come there knowing there were no open spots? I thanked them for their time and headed to my husband and son, both waiting in the car. I told Tommy and he was angry. I didn’t blame him. This was in May, 2012.

Fast forward to June, 2012. Admissions woman calls me and says there will be an anticipated opening the end of June. Praise God and endless thanks to our church family for all their prayers. This is perfect timing because Thomas was just admitted to the hospital for aggression towards me. I was given an estimated date of admission to the school. Thomas was discharged from the hospital and we had 2 weeks to get through before the admission to the Sail school. We tried to prepare Thomas the best we could he already knew what is was like to live at a school away from home. My heart hurt even though I knew we couldn’t go on living like this. Thomas went to bed and I stayed with him until he went to sleep, staring at this young man, my child, my first. I cried.

Once again I had to mark my son’s clothes and socks with his initials. I don’t remember much except I did it. The day of admission arrived and I went alone with Thomas. Tommy had to work, he was the only person I would have wanted to go with. I didn’t want to make small talk with anyone or talk period. It was a Thursday. I left the house around 2 pm and there was decent traffic on the George Washington Bridge. It took us at least another hour to arrive. We were late.

When we entered the Sail school we were met by a staff manager, Admissions Woman, and the nurse. Everyone was wonderful. Thomas refused to leave my side for a look around or a tour. I had a ton of paperwork to read and sign, make sure they had his IEP for school, make sure they know due to his meds Thomas needs sunscreen, etc… After a while Thomas grew bored and agreed to go outside to the playground with a staff member. Before I could speak the word “sunscreen” the staff had already put it on Thomas.

One of the hardest things I had to do was give the Nurse Thomas’ meds. I handed over his clothes with no problem but to hand over the medications was really laying down and admitting I couldn’t have him at home anymore. To me handing over his meds was the equivalent of handing them my son and with him my complete trust. The nurse was wonderful and understood when I told her how difficult this was.

After a while there was nothing left to do but go home. All the papers were signed, they had his meds, I gave the school the history they wanted…it was time to leave. I said goodbye to Thomas. He became upset and started crying, I held back tears and after many hugs and goodbyes I left. I ran to my car crying. I sat there. I called Tommy but I don’t remember what we said to each other. After I calmed down I drove home, by myself and I listened to Christian contemporary music.

The next day my stomach became upset and I was sick for 3 days. I cried and cried those 3 days. The Lord was with me as he made sure the girls stayed occupied so I could be sick and cry in peace.

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Hospitals and People Placed In Our Lives

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After Thomas was discharged and we left the local hospital, I spoke to Dr. F.  He wanted to hospitalize Thomas at the hospital we used many years ago when Thomas was 7-8 yrs old, before Andrus.  Dr. F felt there was no safe way to taper off this med and begin a trial of a replacement while at home.  Tommy and I agreed but we were not happy about it.  Thomas’ behavior had leveled off, he was still taking the medication that needed to be stopped and we feared he would view being hospitalized as a punishment. I did not hold my son’s actions towards me as a grudge nor was I angry with him. Was it horrible? Yes. But he is my son and he has brain issues that cause him to act out if he is not medicated properly. We explained why he had to be admitted and thankfully he understood.

I took Thomas to Westchester, 2 hours away to be admitted to the psych hospital. I told the admitting psychiatrist why we were there, to stop the medication affecting the white blood cells and hopefully replace it with something else. I asked him to please call Dr. F and discuss this with him. The hospital Dr. did at some point in time do so and he agreed to the med change.

Thomas was in the hospital for about 6 weeks. They did not take him off the medication we wanted because Thomas’ behavior would worsen with each tapering down of the dose, and his white blood cells were in the normal range so their decision was to keep him on that med. As happy as we were to have him home, it was a waste of time to have had him hospitalized. I warned the hospital Dr that we’ve been through this and I knew Thomas’ white blood cells were going to drop again. And they did.

Dr. F decided to take Thomas off the med at home (again) and hope for the best and we could always hospitalize him again. I don’t remember much about that time except I know it didn’t go well and Thomas was hospitalized again and again. It became a revolving door situation. I was the target of his aggression, not once did he hit the girls. In some strange way when I told the professionsals that “I” was Thomas’ target and not the girls, it seemed “ok”. I won’t go into fine details but his aggression sent me spiraling into depression and it was the cause of great trauma to me.

However The Lord again shows himself when I was in need. During one admission the hospital was having a meeting about Thomas and a parent had to attend. Tommy was working so I’m the one. Tommy didn’t want me to drive alone but I didn’t have anyone to go with me. I was about to call the church and ask but decided to go shopping at Macy’s instead. In the middle of Macy’s I run into Cheryl, one of the Pastor’s wife. We had met before and chatted since they have a special needs son now an adult. I tell Cheryl about the meeting and I need someone to come with me. Cheryl quickly says, “When is the meeting?” I tell her, “Thursday”. Cheryl says, “Thursday is fine I’ll come with you”. I almost fell over right there in Macy’s. That was no coincidence, nope. She gave up her whole day and drove 2’hours there and back with me not once but twice. Yes people are placed in our lives for a reason.