I LOVE MY CHILDREN by Heidi Franke

My youngest son, Mitchell, remains at home with us and is trying so hard to feel well. He's been manic and short tempered. He's now highly aware of his illness and has felt depressed about having bipolar, anxiety, and schizoaffective disorder. He said he joined an online support group for people with bipolar disease. That is a first. Sometimes I question the schizoaffective diagnosis, but there is so little we truly know about the brain and it's machinations. 

Mitchell is always apologizing, now, after an outburst. This shows me he gets it. Before he held onto his dark angry moods. Brooding. I'm grateful he's not on the streets as he's been before. He would likely die. One time, while rambling through a rail yard, he was talked out of walking into an oncoming train by another homeless person. Something about age 23 seemed to add some healthier neuronal pathways this last year.

Mitchell's started back on Seroquel again. Though he smokes marijuana on a daily basis to help with his extreme anxiety, he says he no longer looks to get high. He says he's found he reaches a plateau with pot. All he wants is to not feel like there's a wound up spring in his head that pulses to every pore in his body. I describe it as such and I know he would agree. I'm blessed because, so far, he shares his thoughts at times. There are many times he doesn't. Those are the things I worry most about. The things that aren't said.

Mitch seems not able to focus and learn recently. He's been trying to send packages back to Amazon and has had trouble learning how to do this. I think it's more related to his short temper (which he, himself, is frustrated about). He's highly critical of himself which creates more anxiety. Circuitous routes of neurons and unorganized, capricious synapses are a hallmark of mental illness.

It's stressful at home with three men - Mitchell, my husband, and my older son. They lack closeness and live in a past of regrets and grudges which really is depressing in itself.  Neither my children nor my husband have been angels but they're all trying. I know you can't change another person. We only have control over our own reactions. I'd rather see the glass half full or get a smaller glass. Dealing with one's own expectations is key to surviving trying times. And being able to laugh.

We need my boys to be independent and we're doing as much as possible to get them there. I, too, am not perfect and wish I had some other quality I might be lacking. But I am who I am and don't want to live with regret should I kick my sons out again and have them die from an overdose or lack of care for their mental illness.

We all do the best we can with what we have at any given time. Housing costs are horrendous for someone making less then $12/Hr, or someone on disability of $750/month. They can't afford health insurance, let alone methadone treatment for an opiate addiction which is what my older son suffers with. It does leave the extended family to help fill in the gaps if they can and are willing.

I can. I'm willing. I love my children.

 

Mitchell

Mitchell

REALLY? WHO ELSE WILL DO IT? by Kecia Bolken Speck

My hands are shaking as I type this.

Update. My son is an inpatient and willingly taking Abilify orally. It's been several days now and he's responding really well to it. Although he continues to have disorganized speech and some delusional thinking, he no longer wants to make me cry and feel pain.

I am so strong during the hard parts. Now that the "worst" is over, for now, I am falling apart. All of those same feelings from the very beginning of this nightmare six years ago are coming back. Some of you know them so well. This is the time, today, right this minute, that I really should have a doctor appointment for myself. It seems that my doctor sees me hold it together so often and for so long that he doesn't think that I need help. Compliments from everyone all the time - "I don't know how you do it." "I'm not as strong as you." "I couldn't do it." 

Really? Because who else will do it? For now, I'm going to stay in my pajamas, drink my coffee, and cry and mourn the loss of my son. And the loss of myself.

Kecia

Kecia

I'M NEVER CALLING THE CRISIS TEAM OR THE POLICE AGAIN by Kecia Bolken Speck

Oh my goodness!  I'm never calling the crisis team or the police again.

This morning my son had a really, really rough time. He was calling and texting me, his grandma, his psych doc, and several members of the ACT team ( all the people who are supposed to be supporting him and who we tell him to call if he is in distress).

He was distraught because he believes that I, his mom, killed somebody in 1984. He texted me and said, "You need to cry and feel pain." So I was advised by the ACT team to call the crisis number and to have the police do a well check on him. The police said that they were really busy today but that they would try to get to him tomorrow. They did, however, advise me not to go near him. 

The crisis team said that because nobody's seen a weapon, and because my son didn't actually threaten me or threaten to harm himself (well not today but yesterday he did), that they would document my call but there was nothing else they could do.

Now the ACT team has called and they're too scared to take meds to my severely mentally ill son. They're going to scale back on their assistance until they feel safer sending workers to his apartment.

So my son has to go without meds during his delusional psychotic breakdown? Who will take his insulin shot to him? The police have advised me not to have contact with him. What now? My poor son's distraught and will not get his meds.

Kecia

Kecia

I HAVE A QUESTION ABOUT RESIDENTIAL CARE by Gloria Hill

I have a question for those who've had experience with public mental health systems in California.

I lived in California for 40 years and left seven years ago to move to Florida because we found a residential program for our son, Bret, that looked better than anything I saw in California. It's a beautiful campus on a lovely lake in an area that's close to other lakes, springs, Disney, and the beach. It didn't work out for my son and he left in August 2012.  Now we want to move back to California but the county where we lived and where I worked for Contra Costa Mental Health has been devastated. It wouldn't be smart to move back to a worse situation.

My question is this: Is there any county that has a decent, effective residential program, either public or private, that anyone can recommend? I know about the John Henry Foundation in Santa Anna but we aren't interested in living in Orange County and we want to be near to Bret so we can visit often.

I'd appreciate any information that anyone can share about a facility in California that's helped your adult child; about a place that offers a real program with psychiatric care. Our son's on meds and is very savvy. He just needs guidance at night and lots to keep him busy.

Please leave your suggestions for Gloria in the comment section below.

See Gloria's post, November 1, 2016: No Respite

 

Bret

Bret