If you've read my previous two posts, you'll know I was letting someone suck all the energy from my life. But a friend said to me, "Don't let her have space in your brain rent free." Right. After I made one last offer for conversation that was batted away with cries of but, you insulted my kid, I am done. If she gets over herself and realizes she's not a victim maybe we can have a productive conversation. Until then, I'm moving on. So, time to catch up! Time whizzes by and there's so much to tell you.
Shortly after my lasts 2018 post, things took a bad turn. A really bad turn. Over fall break, I decided to take the kids away on a camping trip, My husband hates camping and was working a busy weekend of events anyway so it was the perfect time. I had reserved a camp site at a wilderness preserve a few hours away - a place I'd dreamed of taking the kids since we moved back to the states from England. I envisioned a weekend of camp fires, long hikes, and reconnecting with my kids. Yeah, no.
The first warning sign was C's questioning about whether there would be cell service where we were going. That, in and of itself, wasn't that unusual. She always wants to know if she'll be able to stay in touch with her friends - her lifeline. Normally a few hours without contact and she stops asking and steps back in to the real world. But this was different. She asked obsessively for the three hours we drove, and the further away from civilization we got, the more panicked she got.
We arrived at the campsite as a light rain began to fall. We had a shelter at our site, with electrical outlets, and for some reason she took this as an indicator there should be a signal. She tried and tried and tried for service. While the rest of us set up our tents, she just kept trying for a signal, in tears the whole time. She got her tent up - on of the easier ones to set up - with great difficulty, despite being the most seasoned camper. She complained the whole time.
Then, she realized she'd forgotten her sleeping bag. Despite the many reminders her dad and I gave her to pack and prepare, she threw her stuff together at the last second. But somehow forgetting her bag was my fault. Meh - nothing new. Parents are always to blame. But it was cold, and raining and she had no sleeping bag. I had anticipated someone would forget something and brought extra blankets and coats, but nothing big enough for proper warmth. Again, my fault.
My patience for her "drama" was at a low. I was so looking forward to this trip I'd dreamed about, literally for years. But it was also my birthday and I wanted to sit around the campfire and enjoy it. Instead, the grouchy, tired kids said they were headed to bed. I'm not ashamed to say I lost it. "Dammit, it's my birthday and I wanted to enjoy it with you guys." Nothing like demanding your kids spend time with you to set the good time mood.
The skies opened up and we "slept" through a soggy, wet and windy night. C had managed to set her tent up in a virtual drainage ditch and was soaking wet in the morning. She was in a vile mood - as most of us would be when soaking wet and freezing - but there was something more. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I finally got it out of her. She'd been self harming. A lot. Her arms were covered in cuts. Some deep, some superficial. It broke my heart. But with this confession, we could finally begin talking about it.
She said cutting herself provided her with a sense of relief when her anxiety and OCD were taking over. We talked about other ways to release that tension, and safe people to talk to. I asked if she wanted more frequent appointments with her counselor, and it was a resounding yes.
C begged me to return to our city over and over, but I really felt we could get through it. And, I think I made the right choice. We hiked, we climbed, and we enjoyed time together. Would it have been better if she'd been in a better place - absolutely, especially for her. But, I think doing what she loves to do helped in some small way.
When we returned home, I called her counselor immediately and we got her in for more regular appointments. With the increasing depression and aggression, he recommended we see a psychiatrist. While we hated to think we were dealing with a behavioral or mood disorder, we knew he was right. Fights could last hours. We all walked on eggshells all.the.time. We let snarkiness and rude behavior slide because we just couldn't face it.
Some background here, my husband's brother was like this. C's dad's childhood was punctuated with his brother's tantrums. He'd smash things up in the house, hold knives to his parents, threaten suicide if he didn't get what he want, overdose as manipulation. So, when C started to display this behavior on a lesser scale, it awakened a very real PTSD in my husband. He'd end up in tears, begging me to make it stop. We knew we had to stop it before the cycle repeated itself.
So, off we went to the psychiatrist. She quickly assessed that C was suffering from major depressive disorder; no surprise to us. C had been on anti-depressants for years, prescribed by her GP, and they had helped so much, but things had hit next level and the psychiatrist put her on a new anti-D. It was just a week or so after Thanksgiving and right before final exams, and she had new medication to start.
The doctor told us C would have to come off her current anti-D in order to start the new one. The problem is, even one day without her medication was noticeable. C would become angrier than usual, more aggressive, more obsessive. And the new med would take two weeks to kick in. So, we potentially had two weeks of even more anger and aggression, paired with some pretty horrendous side effects, like extreme nausea, ahead of us. The question was - did we get it started straight away and potentially cause problems with her finals, or did we wait until the Christmas break and potentially ruin everyone's holiday? We finally decided to bite the bullet and go for it.
Thank God, she didn't have a single side effect and it was only a matter of days before the new meds kicked in. We saw an immediate improvement and knew we were on to something. But the weeks and months went by and we were still seeing the anger and aggression. The breaking point was a night when a tiny disagreement turned in to four hours of raging. When her dad and I literally had to pick her up off our bedroom floor, where she had defiantly planted herself despite repeated requests to move, and return her to her own room, we knew something had to give. This 120lb girl was in such a rage, she managed to force the door open even with our combined weight of 380lbs against it. We needed more help.
We got another appointment with the psychiatrist and this time, she added Lithium. Lithium is one of the oldest mood stabilizers out there and it is magic. We went from fights every single day to no fights at all for 3 weeks. Not one. And even when we had a few days of testiness, it wasn't like it had been before. She was a normal grouchy teenager, not the beast that could rage for hours. It was a revelation for our family, and not a moment too soon. We were just about to drive for two days to meet the surgeon who will perform C's GCS and had been dreading the car journey. Now we knew we could make it.
Next installment...meeting the surgeon!
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