Thursday morning, as I walked to the van, the snow crunched under my feet and the moon was bright. I suddenly flashed back to high school, walking to the barn in the winter. I absolutely hated getting up early in the morning, swore at that time that I'd never, ever end up getting up that early and here I am doing it. Despite the fact that I long for my warm bed, waking up slowly and lazily, I love those crisp, cold mornings.
I can't explain it, but there is a calm and peace in the air that is unlike no other time of the day. In my mind, I could hear the whir of the barn fan, and the clunk of the calves' milk bottles after I fed them. Now I hear the fan of the car heater the crunch of snow as I pull out of the driveway.
Some things do change, there are no cows to feed or milk. My dad would probably be surprised to hear that on such mornings, I do think back to those times and can honestly say I miss them. Well, not quite miss them like I want to do them again, but they are good memories.
My mornings now are filled with those few residents who are early risers asking me "Are you my nurse today?" And being disappointed if I'm not. It still surprises me that I mean that much to my residents, because with 24 of them, divided by eight hours, that means they get a total of 20 minutes max of my time, most of which is not face to face. Somehow I have become someone meaningful in their life.
To have those peaceful snowy mornings first, and then be greeted this way is really just the icing on the cake.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Monday, December 08, 2008
Goodbye, Radish
Now that we are foster kid free, and I've sorta cleaned the spare bedroom, added all the junk that spare bedrooms should have, I'm nostaligic and thinking about all the kiddos we've cared for over the years.
Dear Courtney, Coleen, Ashley, Gavin, Nick, Deavon, Derek, Scott, Rich, Dillon, David, Kyle, Verle, Paul, Andrew, and the 1/2 dozen or so respite kiddos....I truly wish you all of life's happiness, and I hope that you are able to find the best in life that God has planned for you. Yes, even the big D.
Seven years ago, we were broke and I was wondering if our home would ever know the pitter patter of little feet. Today, I look around at the scarred furniture, floors, walls, doors, and can say, yes, we've had THE parenting experience. There's the dent in the living room wall from where the Big D used to slam his feet up against doing hand stands. The damaged doors, the grape jelly stains, and the giant holes all tell stories, not unlike the holes I see in my Dad's house.
The ceiling at home bears wounds from where my brother, age 12 or so, said "Hey I bet I can touch my elbow to the ceiling", but his head hit first. Or the ragged carpet that the cats kept scratching at, the burn mark from my tea candles (damn, was I lucky I didn't burn the house down!), and the little dings that kids leave on a house that says it's lived in.
My house now bears those marks. They made me mad at the time, but as I repair them I hope I can say "thank you Lord".
Dear Courtney, Coleen, Ashley, Gavin, Nick, Deavon, Derek, Scott, Rich, Dillon, David, Kyle, Verle, Paul, Andrew, and the 1/2 dozen or so respite kiddos....I truly wish you all of life's happiness, and I hope that you are able to find the best in life that God has planned for you. Yes, even the big D.
Seven years ago, we were broke and I was wondering if our home would ever know the pitter patter of little feet. Today, I look around at the scarred furniture, floors, walls, doors, and can say, yes, we've had THE parenting experience. There's the dent in the living room wall from where the Big D used to slam his feet up against doing hand stands. The damaged doors, the grape jelly stains, and the giant holes all tell stories, not unlike the holes I see in my Dad's house.
The ceiling at home bears wounds from where my brother, age 12 or so, said "Hey I bet I can touch my elbow to the ceiling", but his head hit first. Or the ragged carpet that the cats kept scratching at, the burn mark from my tea candles (damn, was I lucky I didn't burn the house down!), and the little dings that kids leave on a house that says it's lived in.
My house now bears those marks. They made me mad at the time, but as I repair them I hope I can say "thank you Lord".
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Dear Social Worker (revisited)
I decided to do a little research, and here are a few things I've discovered.
"A social worker is a helping professional who is distinguished from other human service professionals by a focus on both the individual and his or her environment."
This implies a working understanding of the actual environment of the people intended to be helped. In this case, you're supposed to be focused on my children, and their environment.
"Social workers comprise a profession that had its beginnings in 1889 when Jane Addams founded Hull House and the American settlement house movement in Chicago's West Side. The ethics and values that informed her work became the basis for the social work profession. They include respect for the dignity of human beings, especially those who are vulnerable, an understanding that people are influenced by their environment, and a desire to work for social change that rectifies gross or unjust differences.
The social work profession is broader than most disciplines with regard to the range and types of problems addressed, the settings in which the work takes place, the levels of practice, interventions used, and populations served. It has been observed that social work is defined in its own place in the larger social environment, continuously evolving to respond to and address a changing world. Although several definitions of social work have been provided throughout its history, common to all definitions is the focus on both the individual and the environment, distinguishing it from other helping professions."
I have seen little evidence of evolution among you, and hate to paint with a broad brush, but the lack of knowledge about the children you serve, the lack of knowledge of the larger social environment you serve, and the lack of response of any kind makes you well, lazy and useless. Are you aware of your complete ineptness? Should I mention the lying on oh, virtually every "update", every piece of paperwork sent to us?
"practice of social work requires knowledge of human development and behavior, of social, economic and cultural institutions, and of the interaction of all these factors."
Again, I fall to see where you have ever attempted to display knowledge of human development or behavior. The eveidence of this I have seen has concentrated on the norms, however you are not dealing with the norms, you are dealing with abnormal behaviors and this requires knowledge and interventions on behalf of those. You just dumped this last radish on us and walked away. Name one thing, just one thing you did to help. Every single thing that was done for him was initiated by us.
"The social work profession promotes social change, problem solving in human relationships and the empowerment and liberation of people to enhance well-being. Utilising theories of human behaviour and social systems, social work intervenes at the points where people interact with their environments. Principles of human rights and social justice are fundamental to social work.
A professional skilled in talking with patients and their family members about emotional and/or physical needs; an excellent resource for support."
At this point, all I can do is laugh. You've failed on all of these accounts. Who do you think you've provided emotional support to? The children? Us? Nope, miserable failiures. Those few times you showed up to my home and asked what I needed and I gave you specifics? Yeah, that's the part where you're supposed to help. Even the smallest evidence of therapeutic communication would have helped. Nope, we got nothing. You didn't even need to use skills, we specifically told you what we needed you to do--we couldn't access those services without you. And you ignored us.
So screw you, piss off.
Dang, that felt good to get off my chest.
"A social worker is a helping professional who is distinguished from other human service professionals by a focus on both the individual and his or her environment."
This implies a working understanding of the actual environment of the people intended to be helped. In this case, you're supposed to be focused on my children, and their environment.
"Social workers comprise a profession that had its beginnings in 1889 when Jane Addams founded Hull House and the American settlement house movement in Chicago's West Side. The ethics and values that informed her work became the basis for the social work profession. They include respect for the dignity of human beings, especially those who are vulnerable, an understanding that people are influenced by their environment, and a desire to work for social change that rectifies gross or unjust differences.
The social work profession is broader than most disciplines with regard to the range and types of problems addressed, the settings in which the work takes place, the levels of practice, interventions used, and populations served. It has been observed that social work is defined in its own place in the larger social environment, continuously evolving to respond to and address a changing world. Although several definitions of social work have been provided throughout its history, common to all definitions is the focus on both the individual and the environment, distinguishing it from other helping professions."
I have seen little evidence of evolution among you, and hate to paint with a broad brush, but the lack of knowledge about the children you serve, the lack of knowledge of the larger social environment you serve, and the lack of response of any kind makes you well, lazy and useless. Are you aware of your complete ineptness? Should I mention the lying on oh, virtually every "update", every piece of paperwork sent to us?
"practice of social work requires knowledge of human development and behavior, of social, economic and cultural institutions, and of the interaction of all these factors."
Again, I fall to see where you have ever attempted to display knowledge of human development or behavior. The eveidence of this I have seen has concentrated on the norms, however you are not dealing with the norms, you are dealing with abnormal behaviors and this requires knowledge and interventions on behalf of those. You just dumped this last radish on us and walked away. Name one thing, just one thing you did to help. Every single thing that was done for him was initiated by us.
"The social work profession promotes social change, problem solving in human relationships and the empowerment and liberation of people to enhance well-being. Utilising theories of human behaviour and social systems, social work intervenes at the points where people interact with their environments. Principles of human rights and social justice are fundamental to social work.
A professional skilled in talking with patients and their family members about emotional and/or physical needs; an excellent resource for support."
At this point, all I can do is laugh. You've failed on all of these accounts. Who do you think you've provided emotional support to? The children? Us? Nope, miserable failiures. Those few times you showed up to my home and asked what I needed and I gave you specifics? Yeah, that's the part where you're supposed to help. Even the smallest evidence of therapeutic communication would have helped. Nope, we got nothing. You didn't even need to use skills, we specifically told you what we needed you to do--we couldn't access those services without you. And you ignored us.
So screw you, piss off.
Dang, that felt good to get off my chest.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Things you never want to hear
-Woah, you're gonna be mad when you see this mess!
-Hey, where are the wire cutters?
-Um, did the police call here today?
-I think the toilet is plugged (after the second flush is heard)
-Any sort of banging that comes out of the garage
-Any random crash followed by "I didn't do it"
-Yips of pain from the dogs, followed by laughter
Guess which THREE of these I heard today!
-Hey, where are the wire cutters?
-Um, did the police call here today?
-I think the toilet is plugged (after the second flush is heard)
-Any sort of banging that comes out of the garage
-Any random crash followed by "I didn't do it"
-Yips of pain from the dogs, followed by laughter
Guess which THREE of these I heard today!
Monday, September 08, 2008
For my Beloved
Happy 10 years of wedded bliss! And happy 15 years together. Can you believe it's been 15 years since we first met? A few things to think about...
-OJ was arrested the summer we met.
-We were still in college
-I lived with Penny and Paulette
-You lived with Jeff, Jeff, Dan and Chris
-Gas was just over a dollar a gallon. I could fill up my car for about $15.
-The World Trade Center had been bombed,
-I really did know that I'd met my soul mate when we first met.
-I didn't 'get' the internet
With you, I've learned to golf, been introduced to Chinese food, Indian food, and a few other yummies that escape me right now. You've helped me stand through the loss of my mother, and my crazy family. Together we've survived the Keenans, Kahlow, 3M, Pace, AND Braun. We held each other through financial difficulties, diabetes, depression, and infertility. Oh yeah, and camping in Canada with your Dad.
Which brings us to the Great Parenting Adventures. We survived poopy diapers, magic marker on the carpets, bio parents that were critical of ever single thing we did, our families who thought we couldn't (or shouldn't) be doing foster care, and the nuclear bomb that was the Big D. El Chupacabra and our dear drug-addicted RADish have worked hard to try and undo our family, but we remain strong. With glass smashed into the carpet, dents kicked into cars, drunk kids, stoned kids, kids smoking on the deck, punching holes in the walls, sneaking out, hanging upside down outside the house, setting off smoke alarms while "cooking", nudie pics of girlfriends (what a fun converstion that was with those parents!), how many dirty magazines confiscated, the stealing, the lying, and the doors kicked off the hinges it's a miracle we've survived.
Not only have we survived all that, but we survived despite the best efforts of social workers! It's also spurred us onto new careers, and I'm excited to start this next chapter together.
Beloved, you're stuck with me for richer (ha!) or poorer, in good times and bad, in sickness and health. You can't get rid of me.
Gas costs are such that a fifty dollar bill pulled out of a wedding card wouldn't have filled the tank, OJ's a free man, and the WTC is gone. The past 15 years have been a crazy ride, and I'm looking forward to the next 15.
You're still the one, my love.
-OJ was arrested the summer we met.
-We were still in college
-I lived with Penny and Paulette
-You lived with Jeff, Jeff, Dan and Chris
-Gas was just over a dollar a gallon. I could fill up my car for about $15.
-The World Trade Center had been bombed,
-I really did know that I'd met my soul mate when we first met.
-I didn't 'get' the internet
With you, I've learned to golf, been introduced to Chinese food, Indian food, and a few other yummies that escape me right now. You've helped me stand through the loss of my mother, and my crazy family. Together we've survived the Keenans, Kahlow, 3M, Pace, AND Braun. We held each other through financial difficulties, diabetes, depression, and infertility. Oh yeah, and camping in Canada with your Dad.
Which brings us to the Great Parenting Adventures. We survived poopy diapers, magic marker on the carpets, bio parents that were critical of ever single thing we did, our families who thought we couldn't (or shouldn't) be doing foster care, and the nuclear bomb that was the Big D. El Chupacabra and our dear drug-addicted RADish have worked hard to try and undo our family, but we remain strong. With glass smashed into the carpet, dents kicked into cars, drunk kids, stoned kids, kids smoking on the deck, punching holes in the walls, sneaking out, hanging upside down outside the house, setting off smoke alarms while "cooking", nudie pics of girlfriends (what a fun converstion that was with those parents!), how many dirty magazines confiscated, the stealing, the lying, and the doors kicked off the hinges it's a miracle we've survived.
Not only have we survived all that, but we survived despite the best efforts of social workers! It's also spurred us onto new careers, and I'm excited to start this next chapter together.
Beloved, you're stuck with me for richer (ha!) or poorer, in good times and bad, in sickness and health. You can't get rid of me.
Gas costs are such that a fifty dollar bill pulled out of a wedding card wouldn't have filled the tank, OJ's a free man, and the WTC is gone. The past 15 years have been a crazy ride, and I'm looking forward to the next 15.
You're still the one, my love.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Get a life!
This morning I wake up 'early' for me, which is actually late for most, around 9 am. I wake up to find el chupacabra in front of the tv, with a mess in the house, and he's asking me if I want muffins. It's like a little bit of sand in my shoe.
I'm frustrated. I find this child to be so annoying, I debated going back up to my room and staying in bed. It wouldn't be the first time.
I can't change him, I can only survive him at this point. Unlike DS, I don't have any family building memories with him. He's a very effective RADish.
I don't want to be bullied by him into being miserable. I'm watching "The Pursuit of Happyness" and there's a line that says "How did they know to put that line in the declaration of independence, that line about the pursuit of happiness...is it something you can only pursue because you can never catch it?"
Then I'm back to what Beloved says, Happiness is a decision. It's hard when 50% of the family has firmly decided they will not be happy. No, not hard, virtually impossible.
Lord, change my heart.
I'm frustrated. I find this child to be so annoying, I debated going back up to my room and staying in bed. It wouldn't be the first time.
I can't change him, I can only survive him at this point. Unlike DS, I don't have any family building memories with him. He's a very effective RADish.
I don't want to be bullied by him into being miserable. I'm watching "The Pursuit of Happyness" and there's a line that says "How did they know to put that line in the declaration of independence, that line about the pursuit of happiness...is it something you can only pursue because you can never catch it?"
Then I'm back to what Beloved says, Happiness is a decision. It's hard when 50% of the family has firmly decided they will not be happy. No, not hard, virtually impossible.
Lord, change my heart.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
memories
Lately a lot of old memories have been popping into my mind, at seemingly random times. Tonight I was remembering how when a new child would come into our home, DS would give them the tour of the house. He would tell new kids "no matter what, you can always knock on their bedroom door, it's really okay". That warmed my heart to hear him say that because it meant he knew that too.
With all the turmoil/teen angst this past year, I haven't been doing a lot besides look forward to the day he turns 18. I've realized what a nasty attitude that is, and have been praying "Lord change my heart".
It seems like remembering better times is how my heart is being changed.
I remember him weeding beside me in the garden, proud.
I remember him sitting on beloved's lap in long johns, on Christmas day.
I remember family dinners, with Sting on the stereo.
I remember asking the kids "What are you grateful to God for today?" DS usually replied "recess" or "school's done".
I remember them being pleasant to be around.
I miss that.
With all the turmoil/teen angst this past year, I haven't been doing a lot besides look forward to the day he turns 18. I've realized what a nasty attitude that is, and have been praying "Lord change my heart".
It seems like remembering better times is how my heart is being changed.
I remember him weeding beside me in the garden, proud.
I remember him sitting on beloved's lap in long johns, on Christmas day.
I remember family dinners, with Sting on the stereo.
I remember asking the kids "What are you grateful to God for today?" DS usually replied "recess" or "school's done".
I remember them being pleasant to be around.
I miss that.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Denials?!?!
Parent: You smelled like booze last night
RADish: We did not smell like beer
Parent: Well, actually you did
RADish: Did I slur my words? Did I walk funny? NO
Parent: Yes you did
RADish: Prove it! Oh wait, you can't because I wasn't drunk. Give me a piss test
Parent: That wouldn't show anything
RADish: Fine, I'll do a blood test
Parent: Well, you appear sober now--so unless you're still drunk or just had a drink, nothing will be evident.
RADish: That's cuz I wasn't drinking.
They're convinced we really are that stupid. I wonder if I'll be there when the world bites them in the butt. I really hope not.
Sad thing is, we'll continue to play this game with them, and we'll continue to let them get away with it. I don't have the energy to fight them, nor do I have the desire. I'm satisfied to not have animosity towards them.
Sounds like the Radishes have been successful at pushing me away.
RADish: We did not smell like beer
Parent: Well, actually you did
RADish: Did I slur my words? Did I walk funny? NO
Parent: Yes you did
RADish: Prove it! Oh wait, you can't because I wasn't drunk. Give me a piss test
Parent: That wouldn't show anything
RADish: Fine, I'll do a blood test
Parent: Well, you appear sober now--so unless you're still drunk or just had a drink, nothing will be evident.
RADish: That's cuz I wasn't drinking.
They're convinced we really are that stupid. I wonder if I'll be there when the world bites them in the butt. I really hope not.
Sad thing is, we'll continue to play this game with them, and we'll continue to let them get away with it. I don't have the energy to fight them, nor do I have the desire. I'm satisfied to not have animosity towards them.
Sounds like the Radishes have been successful at pushing me away.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Bad news
My dear nephew is now awaiting a bone marrow transplant. Obviously this was not the news we wanted to hear, but our faith in God is intact. Whatever the details of God's plan for Michael are, I cling to the promises in Jeremiah: Jer 29:11 (NIV) "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
The future is unknown to us, but not to God. As much as I want this ache in my heart to go away, as much as I want God to do what I want, I will continue to praise Him and say "your will be done."
But oh how this hurts!
The future is unknown to us, but not to God. As much as I want this ache in my heart to go away, as much as I want God to do what I want, I will continue to praise Him and say "your will be done."
But oh how this hurts!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Now Cancer?
Thursday we received the news that my nephew, age 18, has chronic myelogenous leukemia. From everything I'd read in my nursing texts, the prognosis was fairly poor--three to five years. At 18, three to five didn't sound like nearly enough time. I thought I would be sick at the news, and felt everything from rage to devastation. However, pending the outcome of a few tests that will be back sometime today, he's been given a very good prognosis. Apparently the newest treatment is amazing, and unlike chemotherapy, treats the source of the dysfunction in the gene that lead to this.
Yet again, I feel like there is a before and after. This sense of before and after has happened numerous times before. First with mom being diagnosed with Huntington's disease, second with beloved's diabetes, third with our infertility, and finally when our IVF failed three years ago. Each time there was a feeling of lost innocence, but this was somehow worse. It has to do with the fact that he's only 18, full of promise for the future, getting ready to leave for college.
The uncertainty is horribly unsettling. So far, things look as okay as they can considering the diagnosis of cancer. He's gotten two units of RBCs, has not felt sick at all, and the leukophoresis treatments have proven quite successful in reducing his WBC count.
When our IVF failed three years ago (hmmm...July again?) the feelings of powerlessness were nearly maddening. Going back to school was the way I found power again. Now that my schooling is just about to bear fruit (and I've had a taste working as an LPN), I'm reminded again that this power is simply an illusion--God is in control and always has been. Everything I have is because of His grace. My beloved husband, our home, my brains, our jobs, and our extended family--all gifts and blessings from my Creator.
So as I try and process this, I'm going to try to refocus on God, and I'm trying to remember how much life means, like the Chris Rice song says..."Teach us to count the days...Teach us to make the days count...Lead us in better ways...That somehow our souls forgot"
That's my prayer for now, that and a cure. God says we are to come boldly, well, boldly I'm asking for a cure.
Yet again, I feel like there is a before and after. This sense of before and after has happened numerous times before. First with mom being diagnosed with Huntington's disease, second with beloved's diabetes, third with our infertility, and finally when our IVF failed three years ago. Each time there was a feeling of lost innocence, but this was somehow worse. It has to do with the fact that he's only 18, full of promise for the future, getting ready to leave for college.
The uncertainty is horribly unsettling. So far, things look as okay as they can considering the diagnosis of cancer. He's gotten two units of RBCs, has not felt sick at all, and the leukophoresis treatments have proven quite successful in reducing his WBC count.
When our IVF failed three years ago (hmmm...July again?) the feelings of powerlessness were nearly maddening. Going back to school was the way I found power again. Now that my schooling is just about to bear fruit (and I've had a taste working as an LPN), I'm reminded again that this power is simply an illusion--God is in control and always has been. Everything I have is because of His grace. My beloved husband, our home, my brains, our jobs, and our extended family--all gifts and blessings from my Creator.
So as I try and process this, I'm going to try to refocus on God, and I'm trying to remember how much life means, like the Chris Rice song says..."Teach us to count the days...Teach us to make the days count...Lead us in better ways...That somehow our souls forgot"
That's my prayer for now, that and a cure. God says we are to come boldly, well, boldly I'm asking for a cure.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Depression
I haven't been writing lately because I've been more depressed. I finally went to the dr and got my prescription switched because of the headaches I've been having, and I'm down to only a few HA a week. That's much more do-able. Plus, I got a 'script for celebrex which hopefully will help the foot pain. Hopefully, I'll be able to start exercising again. Yes, that was my latest most long standing excuse for not working out. But it's also the truest, and the most reliable. I'd work out for a few weeks and then slack off because I'd be so sore, among other reasons.
I got weighed today to, which does NOT help my depressed state. I'm back up to 225, with jeans on. But I've been eating just about anything and everything I want. I'm going to try one day at a time. It's such a daily uphill battle. I don't want to fight myself anymore, just the eating disorder. Slowly, I'm beginning to see the difference between me and the ED. Not that I don't still think I'm responsible for it, but I do think that the two are separate; I just could see where one started and one ended for a long time.
So...day by day...hopefully I'll carve out a few minutes each day to write too, it always helps to write down what I'm thinking and feeling. It's the single most useful tool I've learned in therapy. Not that there haven't been other tools, but this one is my favorite.
I got weighed today to, which does NOT help my depressed state. I'm back up to 225, with jeans on. But I've been eating just about anything and everything I want. I'm going to try one day at a time. It's such a daily uphill battle. I don't want to fight myself anymore, just the eating disorder. Slowly, I'm beginning to see the difference between me and the ED. Not that I don't still think I'm responsible for it, but I do think that the two are separate; I just could see where one started and one ended for a long time.
So...day by day...hopefully I'll carve out a few minutes each day to write too, it always helps to write down what I'm thinking and feeling. It's the single most useful tool I've learned in therapy. Not that there haven't been other tools, but this one is my favorite.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Biggest Girl in the Room
I often think I'm the biggest girl in the room. Today, I watched a girl I know who has an eating disorder go through the ritual of unwrapping a pack of crackers. Her mannerisms were...interesting. I've done the same sort of thing many times myself when actively dieting. I created rituals to make the process take more time, be more involved, and God only knows why else. I sure don't have it all figured out. It certainly struck a cord with me to watch her. I have a feeling she has also felt like shes the biggest girl in the room. Which makes me think of something else.
I don't WANT to be the one that sticks out in the crowd. Now I think I do stick out in the crowd for being fat, but perhaps the eating/weight gain was related to wanting to hide. However, one of my reasons for wanting to be skinny is to blend in. Hmm. Isn't that ironic? I don't think I losing weight is going to solve all of my problems, or that life is suddenly going to be sunshine and roses. On the contrary, I think I felt worse while I was part of weight watchers. The initial momentum and loss created som euphoria. That was the fun part...but then it wore off. And overall, I felt worse. It was hard work. I had a lot left to lose, body distortion problems, and had lost my favorite coping mechanism.
The idea, of course, is to develop new and improved coping mechanisms. My head gets it. Boy does my head get it. My head is freakin' sick of getting it and not knowing how to follow through. My heart is horrified at the weight gain. If I am developing new and improved coping mechanisms, then why the gaining? I think the therapist would say the disordered thinking is fighting back. Sure it is, it's so deeply ingrained WTF am I (or it) supposed to do? We are entwined. I'm not this eating disorder, and I do think I'm able to recover fully.
In the last year, there have been a number of times where I'm unable to finish a plate of food. This is way out of character for me. To be therapeutic, it's the eating disorder made me do it. Now I'm finding that more and more often I can't finish a plate. That's happened at least 3-4 times this week. I'm bewildered. This big part of me seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I don't know what's going to take it's place. It's scary and more than ever I feel vulnerable, raw, and wide open. A piece of me is leaving, missing, and there is nothing in it's place.
I don't WANT to be the one that sticks out in the crowd. Now I think I do stick out in the crowd for being fat, but perhaps the eating/weight gain was related to wanting to hide. However, one of my reasons for wanting to be skinny is to blend in. Hmm. Isn't that ironic? I don't think I losing weight is going to solve all of my problems, or that life is suddenly going to be sunshine and roses. On the contrary, I think I felt worse while I was part of weight watchers. The initial momentum and loss created som euphoria. That was the fun part...but then it wore off. And overall, I felt worse. It was hard work. I had a lot left to lose, body distortion problems, and had lost my favorite coping mechanism.
The idea, of course, is to develop new and improved coping mechanisms. My head gets it. Boy does my head get it. My head is freakin' sick of getting it and not knowing how to follow through. My heart is horrified at the weight gain. If I am developing new and improved coping mechanisms, then why the gaining? I think the therapist would say the disordered thinking is fighting back. Sure it is, it's so deeply ingrained WTF am I (or it) supposed to do? We are entwined. I'm not this eating disorder, and I do think I'm able to recover fully.
In the last year, there have been a number of times where I'm unable to finish a plate of food. This is way out of character for me. To be therapeutic, it's the eating disorder made me do it. Now I'm finding that more and more often I can't finish a plate. That's happened at least 3-4 times this week. I'm bewildered. This big part of me seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I don't know what's going to take it's place. It's scary and more than ever I feel vulnerable, raw, and wide open. A piece of me is leaving, missing, and there is nothing in it's place.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Not my problem
DS's biomom called me last night. She believes DS is holding a grudge against her and that he needs to get over it. What a self-serving selfish biotch! She portrayed herself as the victim in all of this, completely ignoring the fact that she's the one who is responsible for his pain in the first place. Then she comes to me for support. DS shared with us a comment that she made about us. It wasn't negative. It just showed how very threatened by us she really is. I find the mother bear instinct rising up to defend my cub.
I got the impression she wanted me to validate her feelings. I think she wanted me to help her 'gang up' on DS. The problem (for her) is that I don't care how horrible she feels. Plus, DS knows how to get rid of her. She puts too much of her guilt on him and he either can't tell her how he feels or he takes on too much of her guilt. For him, it sucks. He has no voice left. The little comments about us don't help either, he's automatically put in the middle. So he does what always worked to get her to back off--he acts like a jerk. She falls into line, plays the victim and boo hoos to anyone who will listen and blames it all on him. She could choose to give him the space a 16 year old boy wants. She could choose to let him come to her but can't because she's just too CLINGY!
While I hope he could be able to tell her how he feels, she's still not going to listen. She can't possibly hear him. I'm not going to try and make him either. I think he needs to talk to someone other than friends and other than us about all of this. I think he's healthy enough to do one on one counseling. Now if I can convince him...I'd like for him to consider medication again too, winter is so hard for him. Plus he's mentioned that he's been feeling depressed at other times, like mot of the summer. He wants to blame it on the other kids--but that just ain't the case. I doubt if he understands all of the reasons why he's so down.
My poor sweetie.
I got the impression she wanted me to validate her feelings. I think she wanted me to help her 'gang up' on DS. The problem (for her) is that I don't care how horrible she feels. Plus, DS knows how to get rid of her. She puts too much of her guilt on him and he either can't tell her how he feels or he takes on too much of her guilt. For him, it sucks. He has no voice left. The little comments about us don't help either, he's automatically put in the middle. So he does what always worked to get her to back off--he acts like a jerk. She falls into line, plays the victim and boo hoos to anyone who will listen and blames it all on him. She could choose to give him the space a 16 year old boy wants. She could choose to let him come to her but can't because she's just too CLINGY!
While I hope he could be able to tell her how he feels, she's still not going to listen. She can't possibly hear him. I'm not going to try and make him either. I think he needs to talk to someone other than friends and other than us about all of this. I think he's healthy enough to do one on one counseling. Now if I can convince him...I'd like for him to consider medication again too, winter is so hard for him. Plus he's mentioned that he's been feeling depressed at other times, like mot of the summer. He wants to blame it on the other kids--but that just ain't the case. I doubt if he understands all of the reasons why he's so down.
My poor sweetie.
Friday, October 12, 2007
PSA: Eating with a kitten
1. Stretch well ahead of time
2. Wear long underwear under your pants, remove all strings from the clothing.
3. Consider gloves.
4. re-stretch to make sure you can eat with one hand over your head--this is wear you will be holding your plate.
5. Practice moving the plate or ball back and forth between your hands. Speed counts.
6. Keep a few things handy to toss at the dogs, since they are sure the kitten's prescence near your food is an act of treachary against them.
7. Learn to eat formally hot foods at room temp or better yet, straight out of the fridge. If it stays cold, the aromas may not be as prominant, therefore it might take longer to attract said kitten.
8. Assume you will need a spare set of silverware. You'll probably end up tossing the kitten off of you with fork in your hand. Experienced pet owners won't mind the extra hair.
9. BONUS! Food rubbed off the fork onto the kitten. Now eat as fast as you can while she licks it off of her fur.
10. Don't count on eating standing up. This is why you are wearing long underwear--it helps deter the claws.
2. Wear long underwear under your pants, remove all strings from the clothing.
3. Consider gloves.
4. re-stretch to make sure you can eat with one hand over your head--this is wear you will be holding your plate.
5. Practice moving the plate or ball back and forth between your hands. Speed counts.
6. Keep a few things handy to toss at the dogs, since they are sure the kitten's prescence near your food is an act of treachary against them.
7. Learn to eat formally hot foods at room temp or better yet, straight out of the fridge. If it stays cold, the aromas may not be as prominant, therefore it might take longer to attract said kitten.
8. Assume you will need a spare set of silverware. You'll probably end up tossing the kitten off of you with fork in your hand. Experienced pet owners won't mind the extra hair.
9. BONUS! Food rubbed off the fork onto the kitten. Now eat as fast as you can while she licks it off of her fur.
10. Don't count on eating standing up. This is why you are wearing long underwear--it helps deter the claws.
Ouch, there's a knife in my back
In all actuality, I don't think the knife is truly in my back. It came from a completely expected source. The hurt feelings come from other sources--all the classmates who believed that I would be such a nasty biotch as to try and get someone kicked out of our program. So, my vent on the Big Fat Liar.
First, you suck. You're not a good nurse. You're completely self-absorbed.
Second, I know why you have so much drama in your life. Bad things happen to you because of karma. Think about it.
Third, you're constant medical dramas are boring the hell out of everyone. NO ONE CARES.
Fourth, duncan hines, cool whip, and cherry pie filling don't equal a black forest cake. You may as well mash 3 different hostess cakes together--your choice be creative! and make ghetto cake.
Fifth, It's not always about you. Truly, there are other people in your surroundings. Try paying attention to them you might surprise yourself.
Sixth, I had a good laugh over you're little card. I debated between laughing and ripping into little pieces and throwing it in your face. You suck.
Wow, that felt good! Amazing what a little venting can accomplish.
First, you suck. You're not a good nurse. You're completely self-absorbed.
Second, I know why you have so much drama in your life. Bad things happen to you because of karma. Think about it.
Third, you're constant medical dramas are boring the hell out of everyone. NO ONE CARES.
Fourth, duncan hines, cool whip, and cherry pie filling don't equal a black forest cake. You may as well mash 3 different hostess cakes together--your choice be creative! and make ghetto cake.
Fifth, It's not always about you. Truly, there are other people in your surroundings. Try paying attention to them you might surprise yourself.
Sixth, I had a good laugh over you're little card. I debated between laughing and ripping into little pieces and throwing it in your face. You suck.
Wow, that felt good! Amazing what a little venting can accomplish.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Happy Monday
I love Mondays. My one day of the week that I vow to do nothing. I do end up doing stuff, but only when I want to. Sadly, my to do list is lurking in the back of my mind and my Happy Monday is getting a bit depressing.
-renew CPR cert. Call ambulance service to arrange
-work on Kidney project
-order senior pics.
-finish buying Christmas presents for two nephews, a step nephew, and a BIL. Look for a Birthday present for my niece.
-Start planning for the weekend--get wedding present.
-Do budget
It really doesn't look like all that much, except that the drive is 300 miles, and I'll be doing it alone. The family BS will start since I'll be attending along, even though I'm pretty sure the rest of us want to be anywhere else than with the Bridezilla. Too bad she doesn't have the bridezilla excuse the rest of her life.
Food report: I'm happy to say I only had one hard day. I blame the apple dumplings. What triggered the binge? Well...before I analyze that, I'm going to figure out what I all ate.
-three apple dumplings
-1 cup pretzels
-8oz prime rib
-potato with butter/sour cream
1 1/2 pieces of garlic bread
1 1/2 cups of gnocchi with alfredo and chicken
broccoli
So how bad is that? More calories than I need in a day, I'm sure, but volume wise I don't think I can truly qualify this as a binge. Compulsive, yes...again, I blame the dumplings. I've classified sweets as 'bad' and therefore forbidden, therefore something that I'm likely to think about compulsively.
I also struggled with *NOT* working out for three days in a row. I went back and forth in my head, wondering if this was 'bad' or if it was my perfectionist nature kicking in. Okay, I'll face it, it was my perfectionist all or none nature kicking in. It was most 100% definately the part that wants it fixed now nature happening.
Therapist thinks this is going to contribute to the vicious cycle--now I'll feel bad, and this will lead to another binge. Perhaps that was true in the past, but I don't think that's what is happening now. The thoughts are becoming fleeting, and the rebound is quicker.
I'm still not thrilled with food/eating, although Friday night's meal/desert was the first I had been able to enjoy pretty much since I saw the therapist last. Otherwise, it was all just an effort. The dumpling were fun, once I got going, but overall...cooking, something I normally enjoy, has lost it's luster. The feelings are just all mushed up and nasty.
-renew CPR cert. Call ambulance service to arrange
-work on Kidney project
-order senior pics.
-finish buying Christmas presents for two nephews, a step nephew, and a BIL. Look for a Birthday present for my niece.
-Start planning for the weekend--get wedding present.
-Do budget
It really doesn't look like all that much, except that the drive is 300 miles, and I'll be doing it alone. The family BS will start since I'll be attending along, even though I'm pretty sure the rest of us want to be anywhere else than with the Bridezilla. Too bad she doesn't have the bridezilla excuse the rest of her life.
Food report: I'm happy to say I only had one hard day. I blame the apple dumplings. What triggered the binge? Well...before I analyze that, I'm going to figure out what I all ate.
-three apple dumplings
-1 cup pretzels
-8oz prime rib
-potato with butter/sour cream
1 1/2 pieces of garlic bread
1 1/2 cups of gnocchi with alfredo and chicken
broccoli
So how bad is that? More calories than I need in a day, I'm sure, but volume wise I don't think I can truly qualify this as a binge. Compulsive, yes...again, I blame the dumplings. I've classified sweets as 'bad' and therefore forbidden, therefore something that I'm likely to think about compulsively.
I also struggled with *NOT* working out for three days in a row. I went back and forth in my head, wondering if this was 'bad' or if it was my perfectionist nature kicking in. Okay, I'll face it, it was my perfectionist all or none nature kicking in. It was most 100% definately the part that wants it fixed now nature happening.
Therapist thinks this is going to contribute to the vicious cycle--now I'll feel bad, and this will lead to another binge. Perhaps that was true in the past, but I don't think that's what is happening now. The thoughts are becoming fleeting, and the rebound is quicker.
I'm still not thrilled with food/eating, although Friday night's meal/desert was the first I had been able to enjoy pretty much since I saw the therapist last. Otherwise, it was all just an effort. The dumpling were fun, once I got going, but overall...cooking, something I normally enjoy, has lost it's luster. The feelings are just all mushed up and nasty.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Just a food journal
10/4
McDonald's biscuit-egg-cheese-bacon & hashbrown
Honey nut cheerios/skim milk (2 servings of cereal, one of milk)
Turkey burger
Mixed fruit
Yogurt
coffee/milk
leftover scalloped potato/ham
toast/butter, 2 slices
1/2 cup of cheddar pretzels
10/5
8oz prime rib
french onion soup w/ swiss cheese
broccoli
1/2 large baked potato, 1 butter pat, sour cream
coffee, four creamers
Cold Stone Creamery banana caramel crunch, like it size, 1/3 chocolate dipped waffle cone
6" chicken bacon ranch sub on wheat, with cheese
1 serving bagel chips
cereal (two servings) with skim milk
2 sticks of string cheese
McDonald's biscuit-egg-cheese-bacon & hashbrown
Honey nut cheerios/skim milk (2 servings of cereal, one of milk)
Turkey burger
Mixed fruit
Yogurt
coffee/milk
leftover scalloped potato/ham
toast/butter, 2 slices
1/2 cup of cheddar pretzels
10/5
8oz prime rib
french onion soup w/ swiss cheese
broccoli
1/2 large baked potato, 1 butter pat, sour cream
coffee, four creamers
Cold Stone Creamery banana caramel crunch, like it size, 1/3 chocolate dipped waffle cone
6" chicken bacon ranch sub on wheat, with cheese
1 serving bagel chips
cereal (two servings) with skim milk
2 sticks of string cheese
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Yoga at 220 is a heck of a lot harder than at 175. The principle of use it or lose it has been drilled home. It's not the first time this principle has hit home for me, but I miss being able to fold myself so easily, and I miss the strength I had in my arms. One of the leftover body distortions I have (hopefully on the way out) is that I thought my arms at 175 looked the same as they did at 232. Logically, I knew there had to be some differences, yet I distorted the image in the mirror quite a bit. My stomach gives me problems with some of the bends, but it's a lot worse now. I feel like I should apologize to my body.
MIL is amazing in this respect. I don't know if she's just naturally hyper, or if it's an effort for her like it has been for me, but she looks amazing for 67 years old, and is in fabulous shape. The woman works out several times a week at "silver sneakers" not to mention all the golfing. No cart, of course. Unless I can make sufficient change, I'm far more likely to be in rotten shape like my father and sister, who get winded walking across the street.
It's time to realize that working out for 3-4 days and then doing nothing for a week or two isn't going to cut it. I wish I could understand why it's so hard to keep motivated. I know I'm not alone. 32 million obese people are right behind me with the same struggles. This, I think, is something I'll need to ponder for awhile.
MIL is amazing in this respect. I don't know if she's just naturally hyper, or if it's an effort for her like it has been for me, but she looks amazing for 67 years old, and is in fabulous shape. The woman works out several times a week at "silver sneakers" not to mention all the golfing. No cart, of course. Unless I can make sufficient change, I'm far more likely to be in rotten shape like my father and sister, who get winded walking across the street.
It's time to realize that working out for 3-4 days and then doing nothing for a week or two isn't going to cut it. I wish I could understand why it's so hard to keep motivated. I know I'm not alone. 32 million obese people are right behind me with the same struggles. This, I think, is something I'll need to ponder for awhile.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Can anyone hear me?
Or am I talking--shouting--to the empty air, sky, and universe? It sure doesn't seem like anyone is listening, which makes me wonder if anyone can hear me. My therapist needs to know the following:
I've worked damn hard the last year and half, and you need to take a look at where I've been, and how far I've come if you are going to be remotely close to getting me the rest of the way to my goals. Otherwise, we won't be able to continue this relationship.
First, where I've been:
Wallowing in self-loathing and self-hatred.
Wondering if I'm crazy
Thinking I have to be super mom, super wife, super daughter, super aunt, and super sister.
Depressed when I couldn't live up to any of the above Supers
Living in fear of having Huntington's disease
Grief-filled over our IVF failure
Where I am now:
Liking or loving myself most days
Knowning I'm not crazy
Knowning I'm not a Super woman in any respect, and being thankful that I don't have to live up to any ridiculous standards.
Able to say "no"
Knowing my limits
Having confidence in my abilities, which are many
At peace with our infertility
Still afraid of HD, but not afraid to live
No longer needing constant validation for my existance, being able to provide my own self-validation. This has resulted in appearing to be shy and quiet, but also more geniune.
Right now, I am pissed off--no, I'm well beyond that. Infuriated, shakingly, screaming at the top of my lungs pissed off. The kind of pissed off where I want to break something. Will it do any good? Of course not, but that is what I'm feeling. I come out of therapy feeling weak and helpless. That makes me mad because nothing could be further from the truth. You're trying to sell me on the fact that an eating disorder is a disease. I'm not buying it. It's a problem, yes, and in the sense that it's created physical problems for me....yes, it's a disease. Many diseases have a cure and I'm including this eating disorder in the category of curable diseases. It's not like bipolar disorder or diabetes that can be managed with medication. On the contrary, this is something I started, something that I could count on for comfort at a very specific point in my life. After that it became a habit and I believe other influences on this habit lead to a vicious cycle.
Dieting, for one thing...this lead me to feeling deprived and in a sense lonely for that which once brought me comfort. That in turn lead to binging and compulsive thoughts about food. Find me someone who doesn't think about food compulsively when on a diet! Do they all have an eating disorder? NO OF COURSE NOT!!! I never developed alternative coping mechanisms, which is what my main focus is right now. I have a list of things that feel good to me...including bathes, wine, lattes, massages, pedicures, and shopping. I'm very tactile...that's why this list has so many touchy-feely things on it. These are all very good wonderful things for me. Things that require active effort on my part to make happen. Sometimes I'm good at this, other times I'm not.
The society I live in is food focused. Constant commercials for food, restaurants, dieting, and even a FOOD channel. How on earth can I not think about it? But that is one thing I've been asked to do, and it seems impossible. There is a difference between being obsessive and having 'normal' thoughts about eating and food. Seeing as how I can't survive without it, I don't have a choice now do I? How do I know when my thoughts are 'normal'? What's the metric?
Next we have therapy and the ED program. While not entirely food focused, my eating habits are in the spotlight right now. It feels like the goal of not obsessively thinking about food is in direct odds with keeping a food journal. The end result is that I'm pissed of to the nth degree and really want nothing to do with food. I don't want to cook, which I normally love to do. I don't want to eat, which I obviously love to do. I get mad when I get hungry. It's just a reminder that I have to deal with this yet again, and that I have to find a way of feeding myself something decent, nutritious, loving (loving, LOVING? Are you for freakin' real when you said that part?), oh yeah, but try not to think about it too much, and try to eat before you get TOO hungry, and try to distinguish between emotional and physical hunger. ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME?
Let's review what I can do:
-I am the person in charge (mainly) of meal preparation in my home.
-I can tell the difference between emotional and physical hunger, even if I don't always choose to *NOT* eat when the hunger is emotional
-I have a goddamn brain in my head--I can use it
-I can and do practice (with varying regularity) self care in the form of naps, bathes, massages, pedicures, and all the other things I've already mentioned.
-I can break this vicious cycle.
But don't give me conflicting advice. Please, all it does it makes me angry, and makes me think you can't hear what I'm saying. Know that I'm frustrated with how my body looks, and sad that I did this to myself. I'm afraid that I'm wrecked my metabolism, and that how I want to look is not going to be possible. I'm sad, frustrated, and a little scared at the effort it's going to take to get my body strong and healthy again. I'm sad that it came to this. I need support in the active effort to rebuild that strength. I want to have a sex drive again, I want to feel pretty if not sexy in my clothes. I want to be able to wear all of the clothes in my closet.
I want how I feel inside to be reflected on the outside. The outside still looks like how I felt years ago.
I've worked damn hard the last year and half, and you need to take a look at where I've been, and how far I've come if you are going to be remotely close to getting me the rest of the way to my goals. Otherwise, we won't be able to continue this relationship.
First, where I've been:
Wallowing in self-loathing and self-hatred.
Wondering if I'm crazy
Thinking I have to be super mom, super wife, super daughter, super aunt, and super sister.
Depressed when I couldn't live up to any of the above Supers
Living in fear of having Huntington's disease
Grief-filled over our IVF failure
Where I am now:
Liking or loving myself most days
Knowning I'm not crazy
Knowning I'm not a Super woman in any respect, and being thankful that I don't have to live up to any ridiculous standards.
Able to say "no"
Knowing my limits
Having confidence in my abilities, which are many
At peace with our infertility
Still afraid of HD, but not afraid to live
No longer needing constant validation for my existance, being able to provide my own self-validation. This has resulted in appearing to be shy and quiet, but also more geniune.
Right now, I am pissed off--no, I'm well beyond that. Infuriated, shakingly, screaming at the top of my lungs pissed off. The kind of pissed off where I want to break something. Will it do any good? Of course not, but that is what I'm feeling. I come out of therapy feeling weak and helpless. That makes me mad because nothing could be further from the truth. You're trying to sell me on the fact that an eating disorder is a disease. I'm not buying it. It's a problem, yes, and in the sense that it's created physical problems for me....yes, it's a disease. Many diseases have a cure and I'm including this eating disorder in the category of curable diseases. It's not like bipolar disorder or diabetes that can be managed with medication. On the contrary, this is something I started, something that I could count on for comfort at a very specific point in my life. After that it became a habit and I believe other influences on this habit lead to a vicious cycle.
Dieting, for one thing...this lead me to feeling deprived and in a sense lonely for that which once brought me comfort. That in turn lead to binging and compulsive thoughts about food. Find me someone who doesn't think about food compulsively when on a diet! Do they all have an eating disorder? NO OF COURSE NOT!!! I never developed alternative coping mechanisms, which is what my main focus is right now. I have a list of things that feel good to me...including bathes, wine, lattes, massages, pedicures, and shopping. I'm very tactile...that's why this list has so many touchy-feely things on it. These are all very good wonderful things for me. Things that require active effort on my part to make happen. Sometimes I'm good at this, other times I'm not.
The society I live in is food focused. Constant commercials for food, restaurants, dieting, and even a FOOD channel. How on earth can I not think about it? But that is one thing I've been asked to do, and it seems impossible. There is a difference between being obsessive and having 'normal' thoughts about eating and food. Seeing as how I can't survive without it, I don't have a choice now do I? How do I know when my thoughts are 'normal'? What's the metric?
Next we have therapy and the ED program. While not entirely food focused, my eating habits are in the spotlight right now. It feels like the goal of not obsessively thinking about food is in direct odds with keeping a food journal. The end result is that I'm pissed of to the nth degree and really want nothing to do with food. I don't want to cook, which I normally love to do. I don't want to eat, which I obviously love to do. I get mad when I get hungry. It's just a reminder that I have to deal with this yet again, and that I have to find a way of feeding myself something decent, nutritious, loving (loving, LOVING? Are you for freakin' real when you said that part?), oh yeah, but try not to think about it too much, and try to eat before you get TOO hungry, and try to distinguish between emotional and physical hunger. ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME?
Let's review what I can do:
-I am the person in charge (mainly) of meal preparation in my home.
-I can tell the difference between emotional and physical hunger, even if I don't always choose to *NOT* eat when the hunger is emotional
-I have a goddamn brain in my head--I can use it
-I can and do practice (with varying regularity) self care in the form of naps, bathes, massages, pedicures, and all the other things I've already mentioned.
-I can break this vicious cycle.
But don't give me conflicting advice. Please, all it does it makes me angry, and makes me think you can't hear what I'm saying. Know that I'm frustrated with how my body looks, and sad that I did this to myself. I'm afraid that I'm wrecked my metabolism, and that how I want to look is not going to be possible. I'm sad, frustrated, and a little scared at the effort it's going to take to get my body strong and healthy again. I'm sad that it came to this. I need support in the active effort to rebuild that strength. I want to have a sex drive again, I want to feel pretty if not sexy in my clothes. I want to be able to wear all of the clothes in my closet.
I want how I feel inside to be reflected on the outside. The outside still looks like how I felt years ago.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Hire a teenager now
Speaking of drama mamas, DS has been a class act in this regard. I'm sick and tired of it. Teenagers are so hard, if I was this hard on my parents I owe them a huge apology. In addition to being unemployed, he's now decided he's too good for the golden arches. Even though he's mom worked there, he's decided it's just not for him. He can't handle the thought of it now that has had a "real" job. Oh yeah, the one he got fired from. It amazes me the lack of cause and effect thinking. Couldn't do the work = fired. They called him back and offered him a lesser position but pride prevented him from taking it. He's hoping to get a job through his non-dating girlfriend. Despite the fact that McDonald's hired him, he's just not willing to work for minimum wage now.
In addition to his workplace snobbery, he's decided that DH and I are "ruining his life" for doing foster care. He had a huge fight this week with one of the boys, after trying to kick another kid out of the house. I really don't care about the other kid getting kicked out by DS, I do care about the fight AND getting blamed for his inability to get along with others. DS's problems with peer relationships, and his lack of tolerance for anyone who doesn't have the exact same opinions, likes, and dislikes as him is becoming an obvious life obstacle for him.
He's claiming depression, perhaps that's true too but he's using it as a crutch. In otherwords, medication, therapy, and/or talking to DH or myself is not an option for him. He will open up to us occasionally, but not enough to make an impact on depression issues. This quarter his grades will be fine, by Christmas they'll take a nose dive and he'll blame seasonal depression as the reason why.
I haven't noticed, but I should talk to beloved and see if we've had these sort of problems around his birthday before. I'm just wondering if there is grief/loss that's triggered by his birthday each year. Totally normal, but he's got to learn to process it in a healthy way. All I'm able to offer is irritation at an unjustified attack. He has the skills and tools to do better--but it's more work, therefore unlikely to be used unless pushed to do so.
In addition to his workplace snobbery, he's decided that DH and I are "ruining his life" for doing foster care. He had a huge fight this week with one of the boys, after trying to kick another kid out of the house. I really don't care about the other kid getting kicked out by DS, I do care about the fight AND getting blamed for his inability to get along with others. DS's problems with peer relationships, and his lack of tolerance for anyone who doesn't have the exact same opinions, likes, and dislikes as him is becoming an obvious life obstacle for him.
He's claiming depression, perhaps that's true too but he's using it as a crutch. In otherwords, medication, therapy, and/or talking to DH or myself is not an option for him. He will open up to us occasionally, but not enough to make an impact on depression issues. This quarter his grades will be fine, by Christmas they'll take a nose dive and he'll blame seasonal depression as the reason why.
I haven't noticed, but I should talk to beloved and see if we've had these sort of problems around his birthday before. I'm just wondering if there is grief/loss that's triggered by his birthday each year. Totally normal, but he's got to learn to process it in a healthy way. All I'm able to offer is irritation at an unjustified attack. He has the skills and tools to do better--but it's more work, therefore unlikely to be used unless pushed to do so.
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