parentsneedhelp

What Would You Do?

Imagine your child comes to you, and asks you a question. Not just any question. Keep in mind, the mental health world is very different, so your faced with things you never thought would enter your life.

Imagine your son comes to you and starts a conversation with you, looking for advice.

“Mom, I need help. I have a decision to make, but I don’t know what to decide. Can you help me?”

Well, this has started well. I’m being asked for wisdom, guidance and nurturing from my teenage child, that recognizes my years of experience. My chest gets a little puffy, and I put my finger on my chin, trying to give the impression of deep contemplation.

“I have this friend. Actually, I really like her. She’s super nice, and doing really well since she’s gotten clean.”

– Eyebrows starting to rise. Trying to force them down. Don’t blow it. –

“She has this friend that I can’t handle.”

– We’re worried about the friend? I’m still hooked on the “clean” part. –

“Mom. Seriously – are you paying attention? Her friend drives me nuts. I can’t stand her. She was one of the people that used to help supply her. She’s also hates me, and can’t understand why she’d want to be around me. I feel I have to say it’s me your friend. Can’t be both? What do you think? I don’t know what to do?”

Well, now I’m in a canundrum. This rhetorical question (hypothetical too), could be asked of me at any time, just how do you answer when you’re the mom of anyone of the people in the question? What ever happened to “Can I die my hair purple?”, or “I’m thinking of having a burger – should I have fries too?” Those would be luxurious questions. Instead, I could be the parent of any one of these 3 kids. I am the parent of these kids.

One of my kids, being one of the characters in this scenario, asked me how I would react to this discussion. Unlike the parent above, I probably wouldn’t hold my eyebrows down. I probably wouldn’t sit with a puffy chest, feeling all wise and nurturing. Instead, I’d sit on my chair, in my jammies, with eyebrows nailed to my hairline.

“First, I’d be asking what the heck you want to have going on with someone who “just got clean”? Really? I’m assuming you don’t mean showery clean. Second, this person is going to put another junkie – in front of you? Like that’s really a decision? I’d say cut both of these people from your life. Preferably yesterday!”

My child sat there, stunned, just looking at me. I could hear the words running through their head. “Really mom, that’s what you think of me? You’d turn someone away and say those bad things?” I didn’t let those thoughts last long.

“Now, do you want to know what I really think? I think people make mistakes. People can be addicted to drugs, alcohol, food, internet, sex – it’s all the same really. The difference is – where are you in your journey with it? Will being with that friend take you back to a place you can’t or don’t want to be? If that person fell back, would they take you with them, or could you stand and say no way? I don’t think it’s right for anyone to give someone an ultimatum, however they do have to make a choice for themselves, in the moment, to protect their own health. Abuse hasn’t made you a bad person – but the consequences are that once people know, they will react differently. It’s just how it is.”

That discussion was a sobering moment for both of us. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone.

How would you react? Is it right that a stigma sticks with you forever?

How long until your forgiven – or is it right to follow you the rest of your life?

When is a mistake, just a mistake? Bankruptcy follows you 7 years. A vehicle accident – 4 years. A speeding ticket? 2 years. Mental health? Dear God, I hope the answer isn’t forever.

As a mom, just a basic simple mom that has kids who have suffered with different mental health issues, here’s what I’d really like to say.

To the girl that is still struggling. Perhaps now isn’t the right time for you all to be friends, but that doesn’t mean forever. Get clean. Get some strentgh. Know we are your biggest cheerleaders, and kn0w we will not judge you if you stumble a little. You can do this.

To the girl who got clean. Stay the course. Be focused. DO NOT, and I really mean, do not get stuck in what was and don’t get caught making excuses for those who aren’t as far along as you are. Be proud and move forward. Know your limits and make sure you honor them. You are not what you’ve done. Mistakes don’t define who you are.

To the boy making the choice. This is the hardest. Please don’t judge based on the past. Better yet – to the parent of the boy – please don’t judge based on the past. I know you’re scared. I know you want the best for your son. I want the same for my kids, and just because they’ve made mistakes you don’t understand, I would ask you’d look at their hearts first. Then, and only when you’ve found out who they really are, then make your decision.

To all of you out there – if anyone is even reading this – open your mind….just a little bit. Stop the stigma.

August 4, 2016 0

No Filter

There’s a very special person in my life that is know for catching everyone a little off guard sometimes. You never just quite know what you’re going to get, which can keep you on your toes. We joke sometimes about his candor, but i can tell you this. You will never find a more genuine, kind, loving, truthful, more protective person. What you see is what you get. He can’t tell a lie.

He has a thing for baseball hats and pins. You can tell what he’s thinking or feeling each day, by the pin on his lapel, or the hat he is wearing. Its like they’re a silent cherring section for something on his heart. There is one hat- its blue and white – and is anything but silent, and across the front are written two words. No filter.

I’d be lieing if i didnt say that hat makes me a little nervous – even kind of angry sometimes. Its one thing to know a person has no filter, but when its advertised across their forhead – well, you’d better make sure you’re feeling solid because youre going to hear the truth.

Truthfully, I feel a little mad. It upsets me to think i feel on guard when I hear the words “no filter”.

I’m tired of the rules.

I’m tired of being scared.

I’m so very tired, of holding my tongue, and having to be politically correct all the time.

I’ve had to dance so much around things l wish could have been said, so many times, I should be on Broadway.

Dont you wish you could just say it ?! Whatever IT is?!

I tell you now – I would never ask him to take off that hat. I wish i had the courage and strength like he does.

Im tired of hiding in fear of stigma or shame. The truth needs to be spoken. Hearts need to be opened. We all need to return to the premise of which we were created.

No filters. Just love.

June 8, 2016 0

Whipits

Just when you think you’ve seen it all, another thing comes along that blows your mind. In this case – literally.

“This is what we confiscated.”
“Really? ”
“9 large cans spray paint. 1 glass elephant. 1 plastic dish. 1 professional whipped cream cannister. 1 charge holder. Flick lighters – 2 in all.”
“Oooooo-kay. You took that off both girls?”
“Yes, they said they were using the cannister to blow up balloons, but we found no balloons.”
“What would they be used for otherwise?”

What are whip cream cannisters used for? I’m talking about the professional, make your own siphon kit that uses the little charge cartridges. They usually sell for $150+ in cooking stores, and the cartridges sell for between $1- $4 each.

Are you sitting down? Load up to 3 cartridges in an empty siphon, put the tip to your mouth, spray and inhale. I’m told the high is intense and immediate, and more addictive to meth. The danger is unbelievable and results in dead brain cells, permanent brain damage, and potentially – death. This is what they’re doing.

Don’t fool yourself. I know I have. “Not my kid.” “Thank goodness my kid isn’t in to that!” “You’d have to be stupid to try that. My kid knows better.”

Drug addiction is a scary thing. There is really no way to know your kids are doing it until they’re in pretty deep. Google whipped cream, or whipits. What do you see first?

Another thing to watch for is Dust off. Easier to get, less suspicious, more intense high, and again – horribly addictive. In case you don’t know, dust off is the stuff you spray on your computer to clean it out.

“Haven’t you ever heard of that mom? Seriously! Where have you been living?!”

“In a dark closet I guess………”

I used to judge kids, people, anyone who did drugs. I did – and that’s sucks, because now I know how it feels to be on the other side.

I never smoked anything. Didn’t drink anything of any consequence. I didn’t party either. I guess food was my vice, but that’s a different story.

My kids are good kids. They have amazing hearts, huge dreams and ambitions with desires to make a real difference. They weren’t raised on the streets, or abandoned and left on their own. They didn’t have to live in a shelter or a foster home, or a car or anywhere else that wasn’t deemed normal. They went to the dentist, the doctor, to school, and on holidays like any other kids did. They rode bikes, sang songs, drew pictures and played outside until I made them come in to bed.

For one reason or another (that I’m not prepared to share), something strong enough happened that created a pain I couldn’t fix.

I truly can’t even let my mind wander to what the possibilities could have been. Anorexia. Self harm. Suicide. Depression. Anxiety. Drugs. They all fit together……

Ask questions. Know where and what your kids are doing. Know their friends, and listen when someone tries to tell you something you don’t want to hear. At least investigate a little. You owe your kids and yourself that.

Do you believe in Angel’s? If I didn’t before, I sure do now.

May 31, 2016 0

Moral vs. Legal

Your child is complaining of feeling very sick. Their behavior is irrational, they’re sweaty, seem to be in pain, and want to go to the Dr. “Really? It’s that bad? Ok – let’s go”, you say. Fear of flu, appendicitis, kidney, bladder, or other infections run through your mind. In the car and off you go in search of answers.

You head in to your local health provider – perhaps a walk in or urgent care – and before you know it it’s your turn to be seen.

Then it happens. The Dr enters the room and asks you to leave. Really? “Don’t you want some history? Don’t I need to answer questions? Isn’t there an age that I’m responsible for what’s going on here?”

The lines of what is and what isn’t allowed at different ages is so confusing. 18 is the legal age….but of what?

I’ve done a little research on this subject lately. Maybe it’s because I’m angry, and maybe it’s because I feel guilty, but once and for all I want to get it straight.

The age of majority is when your are deemed to be an adult. Legal age is when you are able to drink or make legal decisions. Age of consent is where it gets ridiculous.

A 12 or 13 year old can have sex with a 12 or 13 year old, as long as there’s not more than 2 years between. A 14 or 15 can consent to someone under 5 years difference. A 16 or 17 year old, you can have sex with 18 or older as long as they’re not dependant on them.

Ok, seriously? At 12 or 13 years old you can decide to have sex? And 18 is alcohol? I just don’t get it.

So your “child” is now speaking privately with a Dr. No biggie – how bad could it be? I was just strapping them in to a high chair a short time ago. What could they say?

Then the Dr leaves the room, consults with a different Dr, and go in to another room together Hands are waving, shoulders shrug, and a book comes out that they’re both looking at. They look at me through the glass, then eachother and the attending Dr comes back out.

“Hmmmmm. This is odd. Shouldn’t they be talking to me?”

Apparently not. They don’t have to tell me anything. I understand the health system wants to encourage kids to get help with put fear, but at what point do patents get to know what’s really going on. One Dr says “I’d want to know.” The other says “legally we can’t “.

Do you know what’s going on with your kids? How would you know if they’re sexually active, doing drugs, drinking, or involved in any other dangerous activity?

I have yet to find something that says a Dr can’t tell me what’s going on if my child requests that. Maybe it’s out there, but it seems so unreasonable. As parents we’re on the hook to provide and yet we walk forward blind folded.

I know we don’t want to know every single thing, and I also know I would never tell every single thing. Would things have been different if I’d have been told?

Legal vs Moral. Which one is right?

May 13, 2016 0

Poker Face

If I had a dollar, for every blog and post that ran through my mind every day, I wouldn’t have to ever think about working again. There is so much to say, and so much to share – it just never ends.

How do I explain how I got to where I am today? I’m not talking about simple driving directions, I’m talking about all the roads, paths and decisions taken along the way that brought me, and my kids, to where I am today.

The room where I’m at right now is very quiet. I’m sitting on a lime green retro type couch, leaning against a bright yellow wall as a back rest. The fluorescent lights are really unforgiving, and reflect off the abstract purple art on the walls. Typing on my phone is a little challenging because I’m squinting from the glare.

All I really hear right now is the constant hum in my ears that never goes away. My body feels fine, but my eyes are incredibly heavy and even burn a little from being dry.

I feel numb right now. It’s the first time in awhile that I can’t even think. I don’t know what to say, and I definitely don’t even really know how I feel. Maybe I’m in shock? Is this how that would feel?

I was in a session with my daughter, listening to questions on upcoming medical tests that need to be completed. When you’re living a dangerous lifestyle, I guess you know about these things. When I was her age, I didn’t even know what those words meant.

I always pick the chair facing the professional but a little behind the others in these meetings, because although I’ve trained myself not to react, sometimes a surprising expression comes across my face and gives way to what I’m really feeling or thinking. I could hear something and look completely neutral, and yet on the inside I’m shrieking “OMG!”.

I was asked to leave this meeting, once again. It doesn’t even bother me anymore. I get that people need privacy – even I wouldn’t feel comfortable with sharing in front of everyone.

Random thoughts run through my head while I wait. “Forgot my water bottle – I’m thirsty. Dull headache. …sigh…. This is taking longer than I thought. Hey, I can cross my legs – that’s cool. Is my double chin showing? (Inconspicuous chin scratch just to check – yup, still there). Almost dinner time. Why do we have to cook anyways? I wish subs didnt have bread and were free. Why is this taking so long? ”

I’m not sure if there’s a whole lot more we can experience at this point. Is this rock bottom? I’m being asked how I am, and what I’m doing for myself, and I really don’t have an answer for that.

What’s the point of this post? Perhaps there doesn’t need to be a point. I think sometimes I need to write to remind myself I’m still here. I’m alive. My kids are alive. It’s ok to feel nothing – it won’t always be this way.

We’ll be alright.

May 11, 2016 0

The D Word

Recently, I talked to some teens and younger kids, even adults and coworkers, and asked them this question: Of all the words you hear from your parents, guardians, or care givers – perhaps a girl/boy friend, hero or mentor, which one affects you the most? Which word cuts deep and brings you stress, anxiety or pain? A word that you never want to hear or experience? Just one word?

Do you think you know what that word is? It begins with a “D”. This word is so powerful, that once in a family discussion, all of my kids said I was actually not to ever use it, and threatened massive anxiety attacks and pain from the mere mention of it. One of my kids said that when I had used it once, it had changed his life and path forever.

Is there really one word that can change this generations entire path in life? So strong that it can reduce someone to harmful thoughts and distress? Well, I’m telling you there is.

Disappointment. A very simple word that carries a tremendous amount of power.

I remember the moment I used that word with my son. We were having a conversation last week and I asked him what made him change his mind, and make different decisions? “Mom, you told me you were disappointed in me. I couldn’t deal with that, and never wanted to see the hurt in your face again. I knew what I had done was wrong, but when I saw your face and heard that word, that was it.”

I was surprised. How often do we sit with our friends and discuss how on earth do we get through to people? I had made an impact that I never even knew till 3 years later.

Today, once again I’m Disappointed. Truly – with a capital “D”.

I’m disappointed that no matter how hard we try as parents, our kids don’t seem to trust us. I’m disappointed that I can be asked to leave a room so officials can speak to my teen because of privacy. Seems like when my parenting comes in to question everyone will know, but when they’re behavior comes in to question we can only know minimal details, if any.

I’m didappointed that I can take my child to a health care professional for help, that I pay for everything they need to recover, spend time away from my life to deal with their issues, and yet important information, that could waste my time and cause me deep humiliation – even turn me in to a liar, is not released until it becomes life threatening.

I feel I’m a very empathetic person, but it hurts me that no matter how hard I try, I’m blind sided with information over and over again, that should have been shared at the beginning, not sprung on me in the 13th hour.

We entrust our loved ones to professionals that use deception as part of their course of treatment. I have to sign a group field trip permission form for school and give consent to eat lunch in a different spot, but at the age of 12 my child can walk in to any health care facility and be treated for something I have no idea about. To make matters worse, when I rush in to see what’s going on, they all look at me and say nothing, leaving me to find out accidentally.

I don’t believe people want to do bad stuff at all. Assume positive intent – that’s my motto day in, and day out. However, I find that when presented with opportunity that wouldn’t normally be there, they make a split decision that does not actually represent the character of who they are. Most people don’t set out to rob a bank today. They’re presented with an opportunity and make a bad decision that usually has pretty strong consequences, and then funny enough, are surprised when they’re caught.

Why do I have to sign a consent form under 16 for a tattoo, but my child can enter a craft store, buy a stick and poke, tattoo themselves, and end up needing tests for infection, HEP and who know what else?! Why can a 15 year old enter a huff and puff store, buy vaporizers, pipes, and other paraphernalia and yet its illegal for them to obtain the substances the tools are used for? Yet somehow…….some way…..they do.

“D”.

Deceit.

Double-standard.

Doubt.

Deterioration.

Disappointment.

February 19, 2016 0

Dear Sir(s)

c.c. MLA, School Superintendent, School Trustee, District School Advocate
b.c.c. Step-dad

I’m am writing to you today about my daughter, that is currently enrolled in High School. We are having some issues, and I’d like to give you a bit of background before I ask any questions.

My daughter is 14 years old, currently enrolled in Grade 9. About half way through grade 7, she started to develop chronic stomach pain, and began missing a lot of school. In total, she missed approx. 49 days of the last half of the year – so pretty much all of it. Unknowingly to me, she had developed anorexia, and was suffering from bullying at school. In September of grade 8, she texted her cousin and said this would be her last day. She went to school to say goodbye to her friends, but ended up having a type of nervous breakdown as her brain couldn’t handle the reality of what she had planned. She was taken by ambulance to Alberta Children’s Hospital, where she stayed and received treatment for just over 5 months. I didn’t find out about some other things till January, but once I did, I immediately took action.

My daughter worked incredibly hard to overcome the many issues she was suffering from . While in hospital, she attempted suicide 5 times, was involved in self harm, and her anorexia got worse. Once deeper treatment started, things started to turn around and she rapidly began to improve.

Once hospital was done, she transitioned to ADTP, where she completed 4.5 months of extreme psychotherapy, as well as school classes to complete the core subjects of grade 8. Once she graduated ADTP, she was transitioned to an out patient at YCuSP, where she is still receiving trauma treatment. She has gone through full testing through the specialists at YCuSP, and was found to be “gifted” in many areas, and above average in all the others. Other students averages are her lowest scores. Her diagnoses are: Extreme Anxiety disorder, PTSD, OCD, ADD, and Anorexia with binge/purge tendencies.

Currently, she is at a healthy weight, no longer self harms, is not suicidal, and is bright and optimistic about her future.

Last May she began to transition to high school. The VP was dedicated to her success, and made every effort to help her and make a plan. He assured us that no matter how difficult, the school was there for us and would be dedicated to her success, no matter what. She was given full access to the healing arts program, and the chat room was a great support for her. During the summer, she was tremendously excited to get back to “normal”, knowing there would be challenges, but understanding it would be a gradual transition.

September came, and she was nervous but also excited. She wore some old jeans and a plaid shirt so she wouldn’t bring extra attention to herself. These were kids she’d been with since preschool, and it felt a little weird for her to be back after missing almost 2 years of school.

She started taking a full course load, with flex class for extra help, a guidance counselor as a go to and the chat room for extra support. Unfortunately, there was a new VP as the former one had been moved. The drama teacher took special interest in her, and invited her to participate in his class daily, which took her away from flex. She absolutely loved drama and couldn’t quit talking about it. There wasn’t a single aspect of it that she wasn’t enthused about – but she was missing flex which was an issue. Quite quickly she started getting behind. The exhaustion of a full day of school left her overwhelmed and unable to handle the homework load. I asked the school for a meeting, and we talked strategy for success. Her support teacher made sure that she knew she was to be in flex, and that drama should not be a substitute. It came time for the school play and auditions, and she was elated. She knew her chances of getting a part as a grade 9 were slim, but practiced her audition piece tirelessly, and practiced lines with a friend as much as she could. She did her audition, and was very proud of herself.

Then it started.

The drama teacher posted the part list, and sure enough she didn’t get a part. Other grade 9’s got to work on sets, or lighting, but she was left completely crushed. She went to talk to the drama teacher, and he gave her no excuse. She begged to even mop the floors and clean up after, just to be at practice and watch, but he said no. We could not figure out why, as he took such interest, and then wanted nothing to do with her.

Meet the teacher night came, so I went in to the school to speak with the guidance teacher. My daughter had written a letter to advocate for herself, finished off a huge project, and went to him repeatedly to give her a chance but he just put her off. I waited 1.5 hours to talk to her guidance counselor, and when I did, I was completely shocked. She told me that the drama teacher had heard that my daughter was on drugs, and potentially dealing drugs and wanted nothing to do with her. He’d had a scare the year before with some students, and wanted nothing to do with her. She said her behavior was erratic, and made her think the same. Clearly, they had never seen a teen with her diagnoses.

I went home confused, and very worried, so I immediately called YCuSP to discuss the situation. We set up a meeting quite quickly with the school, in which myself, the team from YCuSP, teachers and administration, and eventually my daughter attended. Her practical nurse explained how not only had she passed every drug test – and she’s had many – but she has never even registered on one. A discussion was had between YCuSP asking why the school had never reached out to YCuSP, and there was no answer. Eventually, the VP asked my daughter to come in to the room, and was fairly insistent on pulling her from the FI program, and aggressively told her she had to start attending. No apology was ever given for the drug accusations, which unfortunately spread to many of the teachers, and other kids in the school.

She couldn’t do anything without someone being suspicious. Stories began to spread about her acquiring crack, that she was sleeping in bank vestibules on weekends, and how she must be using. When I asked for proof of any of this, the VP just said to me that kids had texts, but she had never seen them.

Eventually, my daughter became more and more disheartened, and got further and further behind. She was tremendously lonely, and the kids she had grown up with avoided her in class, hallways, and outdoors. She spoke to me about entering her English class, and being insulted by the teacher in front of everyone, or pointed out in another class how far behind she was, which was terribly embarrassing.

Shortly thereafter, the VP forbid her to use the chat room for support, saying it was only for successful kids that had their work done, even though they had never told her this. The room was presented to her as a support place, not as a place for successful kids. I remember walking in to the office, and seeing the vp with a huge box of smarties candy, and she told me “smartie day” was her favorite day, because she got to hand out treats to all the smart kids. This didn’t sit well with me either. My daughter was forced to sit in the classes, even though she was behind, and was not allowed to be in a separate situation. When I addressed this with administration, she had no answer as to why this was happening, but agreed it was being enforced.

At one point, the counselor, told my daughter that if she maybe changed her appearance and tried to blend in more, she would be more accepted and wouldn’t feel so alone. She came home crying that day. With the bridge burned with her counselor, with teachers and students giving her a hard time, and no support from administration, she would go to school, but sit in the library or hide in the bathroom to avoid feeling bullied and embarrassed.

Approximately 2.5 weeks ago, the school reached out to me to set up a meeting and talk about things. My daughter had made a plan with her science teacher, and was invited to come catch up at the school during exams. I arranged transportation for her every day, and she went to the school and worked. I did not consent to PAT’s, so it seemed like a great plan. On the Thursday of the first week of exams, she had gone to the school and was sitting in the chat room working. One of the school aids came to the class, and in front of the other kids, told her she had to leave the school immediately.

My daughter called me immediately and said they were making her leave the school, and could I come pick her up – she was crying and very upset. None of this made any sense to me, so I came from work as quickly as I could. I went in to the office towards the VP’s office, and she was standing outside of it and threw her hands up in the air when she saw me. They had been in a fighting match, and my daughter had used a swear word in the process, making her even angrier. I asked if we could sit down and talk, and she said no – that she had to run exams. Her support teacher was in one of the offices finishing a meeting, so I insisted we sit down and talk, rather than wait another 4 days.

I asked why we were asked to make these catch up arrangements and then was being asked to leave the school. The VP said she wasn’t done enough work to be at the school, and I argued that that was the reason why she was there. After going back and forth, we found out that administration and teachers had not communicated with each other, causing more embarrassment and stress.

They agreed that they felt my daughter was getting worse rather than better. She had lost her spark and the spring in her step and was acting more and more withdrawn. They told us they didn’t feel they could do anything for her, and that she wasn’t sick enough to attend YCuSP for school, but wasn’t able or ready to attend their school or any other school either. When they asked my daughter what she wanted, she cried and told them how much she hated it there. She described the treatment from teachers and administration as prejudicial and judgemental. She spoke to the fact that just because kids smoke, have pink hair, or dress differently doesn’t mean they’re bad people, and yet they’re harassed and treated as criminals. She was on a modified program that started later, however she was repeatedly confronted in the hallways accused of skipping class, when someone next to her that was a “good student” was not spoken to at all.

The VP suggested we go look at the Learning Center, and suggested she’d do better there. As we left the school, my daughter asked me if she had been expelled, and I answered, “I really don’t know. I don’t know if they can really do that?”

I’ve been to speak to the VP about the program at the learning center, and we’re both concerned it’s really not suited for her at this time of year. Grade 9 is treated as junior high in their program, and all classes are full year. They are also home based, self lead, with heavy reading and writing requirements. She would have to finish 4 core subjects in full within 4.5 months, basically on her own.

I have asked the VP to provide a letter giving reason why they can not accommodate my daughter, and why they have suggested somewhere else for her, but they are saying that this was all our idea. They have told us bridges have been burned, and the VP admitted that she looks at the “parking lot kids” as different. Her statement to us was that she’s an administrator, and when there’s a problem, she has to get rid of it.

The learning center asked me to write you an email, and explain the situation we’re in. Both of us agreed that it may not be the best choice. She needs some support, and to feel some success. She has stated how much she wants to succeed, to graduate, and to move on to post secondary education, but is terrified that no one will take her. if you spoke to her you would see that she’s a bright, well spoken young lady.

With other high schools not being a possibility for various reasons, our high school burning their bridges, and with the learning center not really being set up for grade 9’s, I am at a bit of a loss with what to do. My daughter desperately wants to be given a chance to succeed, but after 2 years out of the system, and the first half of grade 9 being disastrous, I need help to find what another alternative would be. I’m a single mom with no support, and definitely can’t home school – plus home school is definitely not recommended by her counselors and psychiatrist.

Right now we are in a state of limbo. My daughter does not feel welcome, and the paperwork has not yet been done to withdraw. I don’t feel I can honestly advocate for the learning center like the high school wants me to, as I don’t think it will set her up to be successful.

Can you please let us know what options are available for us? The high school has not helped or provided any other suggestions, and as time passes the situation gets more serious. I don’t have the money to just plunk her in to a private school situation. She does not want to be grouped with kids that have been expelled, or doing drugs with behavior issues. Although they may be great kids still, she wants the chance to be serious and surrounded by supportive, caring, positive influences.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read our story. I’m hopeful there is something that can be done, and very determined to find out what that is. She really deserves a chance.

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Kind regards,

P.S. some details have been left out…..for reasons I can’t say…..

February 3, 2016 0

Ready or Not…

“Hi, mom?”

“Hey Sweetie, what’s up?”

“Can you come pick me up?”

“Now? Are you done your work?”

“I have to leave now, they said I have to leave right now.”

“My lunch is in 10 minutes. I’ll come right there.”

It’s been a rough school year. The plan was to transition my daughter in to the regular stream and help her feel successful. She was so excited to go back, see old friends, and get back to learning. The plan was to have a modified schedule, with extra time for support at the school, and access to the Healing Arts room whenever she needed it.

Things started out fine. Science was great, and her english teacher ended up being my oldest son’s childhood football coach, so we had a bit of a chuckle about that. The drama teacher was taking a special interest, and inviting her to classes to participate which she absolutely loved. She spent tons of time working on an audition for the school play, knowing full well that new students don’t usually get parts, but she was so excited she was even willing to mop the floor if it meant she could just watch and learn.

Then, it started. A rumour began to spread about the pink haired girl who liked to cross her legs in her desk. She also would stand outside in her bare feet, and would wear colorful flowy clothing. This was no normal girl – she must be up to something. The drama teacher posted the parts list for the play, and as expected, she didn’t get a part. No worries – surely working on sets, cleaning up, mopping floors would be a way to enjoy what was happening, but the teacher said no. Since when did a teacher say no to someone helping with no agenda – just to be helpful?

I picked her up from school, and with tears she told me about what happened.

“Why won’t he let me in? I can’t even mop the floor, and he won’t even look at me. He just says I have other things to deal with – I need to focus on my classes?”

“There must be a misunderstanding. Why don’t you go talk to him, and ask him to explain what happened and why the change of heart?”

“Yeah – ok. I’m going to send him an email, and tell him how passionate I am about this, and how it excites me. He has to know I’ll do anything to catch up – and will work really hard. I’ve got to try.”

The email was written, but the response was the same. No. Absolutely not. Don’t ask again.

No is not my favorite word, and if I’ve learned one thing about myself – I don’t always respond very well to it. Give me an unreasonable no, and I just can’t stand by and accept it. So, I did what any mama bear would do. I went in to the school, and sat in the office until someone would explain to me. I sat there for over an hour, just waiting. Another 30 minutes went by – still waiting. Finally, the guidance counselor invited me in to her office to talk. She told me how my daughter was using drugs, and dealing drugs in school. She told me how the drama teacher got spooked by her involvement as a dealer. She told me she seemed distracted, and bounces from thing to thing at school. How she’s jittery, and can’t concentrate – just like kids on drugs.

“So, where did you get the information that my daughter is a drug dealer? Do you have any proof?”

“Well, we’ve observed her and she has the behaviors of kids that are using. Could you provide us with a drug test? Have you even had her tested?”

I sat and listened in shock. After everything we’ve been through, and now there’s drugs involved? Could it be true? No way. Maybe? Seriously, no way. But I’ve been wrong before. I can’t believe this.

“I don’t believe it. I need proof. She’s been tested repeatedly over the last year and a half. Every program she’s been in tests regularly, and I’ve never heard anything about drugs.”

“Just watch. We’re saying we’re very concerned. Maybe if she changed the way she looked – people might not be so suspicious.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I went home, and sat down on the couch, and was just honest with my daughter. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, I tried to reassure her that judgement should never be made because of how someone looks, but unfortunately it happens. We made a plan and had YCUSP reassure the school that there had never been even a trace of drugs or questionable results in her tests.

That was the start of the downhill slide.

Fast forward to today. Make no mistake, I know full well that my daughter is very behind in school. She’s missed many classes, sometimes days, and has spent a lot of time hiding in the bathroom. Kids she grew up with have shunned her because she’s weird and abnormal, after all, kids who have pink hair and pierced noses must be trouble makers. Teachers have made comments in front of the entire class and made her sit alone from the rest of the class because she’s behind. Teachers harrassed her in the hall, making her explain every day why she is there later than other kids. And today. Today she was removed from a room of kids studying and doing homework, because she hadn’t done enough work. I had made special arrangements for transportation, we had made a plan with teacher for success, and yet in front of the other kids she was told she had to leave the school immediately.

“I’m on my way. I’m coming in – I want to talk to whoever is in charge. This is ridiculous – we had a plan.”

“Your daughter is not happy here. We feel she is sliding backwards and getting worse. This is the wrong environment, and she can’t be here. There’s nothing more we can do for her until she is better. She’s just not ready.”

That’s what this year was supposed to be about. Transitions. Ready or not, we would work at it and try to make things work. The regular school system has a lot of help for regular kids, doing fairly well with regular grades, regular hair, regular clothes and families, and regular interests. Take a kid who attends regularly, finishes the majority of the work, and feels anxiety in class – there’s no end of sympathy and help for them. Take a kid with colored hair, different clothes, a piercing or two, that shakes from their anti-depressants or ADHD meds, and has enough anxiety that it’s hard to enter the class room, and they get sent to the office for being a dramatic and lazy – just looking for attention. “There’s nothing we can do with you. You don’t do your work. Why do you even come here?”

I sat and watched the tears roll down my daughter’s face today, as she spoke about the treatment she has received over the last 5 months from students and teachers. The Vice Principle sat and listened, and even admitted her job hasn’t been to assume positive intent. She’s an administrator, and if there are suspicions, she needs to get rid of them.

We left the school with their words ringing in my ears. “This is not the place for you. We want you to get healthy and be happy – see a smile on your face. You’re not ready for this school or any really. You need to feel successful before you can fit in to this kind of system. I’m sorry we couldn’t do that for you and wish you the best. You can always come back.”

“Did I just get kicked out of school?”

“I really don’t know. I don’t think they can actually do that, but it kind of feels like it, doesn’t it?”

“Now what?”

“I don’t know – I really don’t know. We have some thinking to do. I’m tired – and I need to think.”

January 22, 2016 0

My Head Has a Heartbeat

“Hello?”
“This is your Dr. Office calling. We’d like to see you as soon as possible.”
“Umm, okay. When?”
“Can you come tomorrow?”
“Really? Sure, see you then.”

It’s not often my Dr. calls me. I have a lot of calls from doctors over the last 2 years, but not for me. What could be so urgent?

“HI. What are you here for today?”
“I don’t know. You called me, remember?”
“Oh, right. We’re going to need your vitals, height and weight.”
“Really? Ok – vitals yes, I’m very aware of the other two.”
“You won’t have to look.”
“Nope. Not happening. See, I’m having a hard enough time as it is, I don’t need to be depressed more on top of it all.”
“It won’t be long, the Dr. will be in soon.”

My Dr is pretty good – I never usually have to wait long. I wasn’t terribly worried because I haven’t been in for any tests recently, and I figured I was there to hear a lecture on my health, follow up, and the fact it’s time for a check up.

“Hey – how are you?”
“I’m ok.”
“I noticed on your file your prescription needs renewal.”
“Yeah. I guess it does.”
“Are you sleeping?”
“No, not really. I mean I get about 4 hrs on a good night, usually interrupted half way through. Seems I can’t sleep longer than that. Some nights 2 hours, but a lot of nights 4.”
“Have you tried the sleeping pills I gave you?”
“They don’t work”.
“Did you try both prescriptions? ”
“Yup. No difference. I don’t have trouble falling asleep. I can fall asleep almost anywhere – instantly – I just can’t stay asleep.”
“Hmmmmm. That’s not good. How’s the anxiety?”
“Better. I don’t shake from morning to night anymore. I still can break out in a full sweat instantly, and I do shake, but it’s better than it was. I feel sad sometimes – but I think I’m just tired. ”
“You’re over due for a check up.”
“I know. I was getting to it.”

“How’s work?”
“Fine. Hard. New boss has high expectations. Company is expecting major growth which is stressful.”
“In a recession? How are you supposed to do that?”
“LOL. How ever I can.”

“How’s your daughter?”

I stared blankly for a moment. How is my daughter? That’s a good question. A very hard question actually, because I don’t think I really know.

“Ummmmm. Hmmmm. Well. I’m not really sure what to say. Better…..I guess. She’s not suicidal anymore, and not cutting. She’s at a healthy weight. She’s gifted actually – she’s been tested – but she’s failing school. The pendulum has swung full to the other side. We haven’t had police for awhile – that’s a good thing.”
“Police? Why?”
“Well, there was the time they kicked in my door late at night because she had messaged someone she’d taken sleeping pills. Then there was the time she was at her dads and her friend couldn’t find her so she called the cops. Then most recently we couldn’t find her and had to get the RCMP to help.”
“Really? And you wonder why you can’t sleep?”
“It could be worse. We have a ton to be thankful for, really, we do.”
“How are you coping with all of this?”
“We’ll, that’s why I came to you, remember? You gave me those bright orange pills?”
“Right. Do you need someone to talk to? A counselor or something?”
“No. Well maybe, but I don’t really have time right now. We’re going to YCUSP later today to talk with the counselors, medics and such. The thing is, I don’t really know what to say anymore. It’s been 2 years, and I’m kind of at a loss. I’ve run out of potential solutions, and my ideas are pretty much exhausted. I’m exhausted. I can feel my pulse in my head. I don’t really know what to do to make things better anymore.”

I know what the Dr’s want to hear. I’m fine, things are great. The system is awesome and helps so much. The support is incredible, blah, blah, blah. The truth is that I tell the truth. I don’t hide and say what they want to hear. I don’t have the energy to paint pretty pictures, so I say it like it is. The truth is uncomfortable sometimes. It’s not that I want to make anyone uncomfortable, the truth is that I really just don’t know what to say anymore. I’m so very thankful because my daughter is home and alive, and we’ve seen so many not make it. I get to see her at night, text her when I want, and hug her whether it’s sincere or not. I just don’t know how to help her anymore.

The Dr and I sat and looked at each other in awkward silence………….
Someone had to say something.

“I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Have you set a date yet to get married?”
“……sigh……no….. no we haven’t. It just seems so complicated, and between our kids being back and forth from the loonie bin and work and such, we just haven’t figured out how to make it happen. There always seems to be a crisis.”
“(He chuckled) Well, I guess you’ve got a point. Things could be worse. It’s a good way to look at it. Here’s a different prescription – try it for sleep. If that doesn’t work I don’t think i know really what to say. Here’s 60 days worth. Let me know how it goes. Is there anything else you need?”

OK. Breathe deep. Don’t say it – just smile, bite your tongue, and leave it alone.
“Nope. I’m good.”

Back to work. I have a sore head. Back to YCUSP. Maybe they’ll help this time.

There comes a time, when you’re deep in the muck and the mire, that you need to step back and assess yourself. It’s not just our kids that need help – often we do too. You don’t have to be suicidal to need help. Reach out. Tell a friend. See your Dr. Do something, just don’t leave it too long.

January 20, 2016 0

routerecalculation

mental health blog

Tag