A little diversion

This guy is part madman, part genius. Not sure what the percentages are, though.

I owe all of us this post

... not least because it's been a while.

Yes, I am faring better, generally. I'm very glad this new medicine (Abilify) is helping as well as it is, because Shit Happens. Diva shit, again, with a touch of Sproing drama.

It's hard for me to talk about because I'm so sick of it all, so sick of trying to maintain something that looks like sanity when all around me are nuckin' futts.

Let's see if I can zip through this. Last weekend Diva had permission to spend one night with her friend Morq. Friday night only. She got a ride to Morq's house in Abbeville. She said she'd be back Saturday, which indicated to us that she had a way to get home. But she didn't. We didn't hear from her on Saturday, but got a brief text giving us the phone number to her new phone. When we tried to call or text the phone we got no response. She still wasn't home on Monday morning, so after I established that she wasn't at school I called the police. A very nice officer came to the house and we discussed the situation. Between the time I called 911 and him arriving, Diva called. She was mad as hell that we hadn't gone to Abbeville to get her "like you were supposed to." First I'd heard of I-was-supposed-to.

Superman took time off from work to go get her. He lectured her a bit on the way home, so they were both in a foul mood when they got here. Then Superman gave her a chore to perform as punishment (scrape the walls in her room to remove all the extra paint she's put there with her notes and stuff). She went ballistic. "I ain't touching those G++ D~~m walls."  There were a couple of "fuck yous" sprinkled throughout. Then she started throwing stuff against the walls in her room, and throwing herself against the door. She weighs over 200 lbs, and is strong, so that's a mighty force against the door. After she finally calmed down Superman went back to work.

I was hiding in my bedroom. Twitch was doing the same in his room. We both heard her when she loudly said "I'm gonna cut myself." After a bit I wandered into the living room to check. She had my favorite paring knife and was pressing the blade against her arm. Just pressing, and not very hard. She ended up making three scratches that barely broke the skin. I asked her to give me the knife and she refused. Look, y'all, I'm sick of her games, you know? I went back to my room and called 911 again. This time I got three police officers and a two man team of EMS in an ambulance. If the Bitch wants to pull her shit with me I'm gonna call her bluff. The police took her to the emergency department at the hospital. I had to follow to sign forms to allow her to be treated, which I did. Then I left to go to my doctor's appointment. I had to tell my doctor that the new drugs are working pretty well, and oh by the way here's an example of the shit I'm managing.

The hospital psychiatrist kept Diva overnight for observation and evaluation. She got sprung on Tuesday just in time for her appointment with her therapist at the local mental health clinic. Since then she's been all sweetness and light. With her it's a dark light. Shrouded, you might say.

She and I had an interesting conversation this afternoon. She's been researching ways to be independent, to emancipate from the family. I'm all for it. She also has a boyfriend (who gave her a cell phone, so you know it's serious). Today she told me he's 23 years old. You know, I don't care. And I told her that as long as he treats her well I don't have a problem with him being that old. She says they've been talking about rings. What does that mean when she says it? I have no idea. But I volunteered the information that if she gets married she's automatically emancipated. She was shocked, thought I was fooling with her. Nope, it's the truth. Man oh man, wouldn't that be the thing, though? Get her married and out of here. She's 16, will be 17 in early December. Probably time for her to marry. Yep, I like that idea.

This afternoon I got a call from the assistant principal at the high school. Sproing has been suspended for two days. There's only six more full days and two half days until school is out. He's missing the two days before the end of course exams, which if he fails he fails the course. And they'll be doing review for the exams in those two days. It looks like he'll see 10th grade again next year. So will she, if things stay as they are with her grades and attendance records. Whatever. At 17 she's gone, her decision. I don't know about Sproing, though, whether he'll try to bolt at 17 or will wait another year. I haven't decided if I care.

Diva got her Depo shot yesterday - birth control that lasts three months. About six weeks ago she went in for the shot but told the doctor she wanted to take bc pills instead of getting the shot. I said as long as she takes the pills daily as she's supposed to, fine. But she didn't. So she's back on the shot (Phew!). They also ran some tests and she came up positive for chlamydia again. So another big dose of super powerful antibiotics for her. Her gonorrhea test was negative though, so that's good.

Let's change the subject. I'm doing all kinds of projects and shit now. I am in the middle of sewing a piratey shirt. You know, it's a piratey thing.

I finished a unique interpretation of a shirt pattern. I like it. Have I made a new skirt? No, but I need to. There are a few Simplicity patterns I want, dress and/or skirt patterns. Next week Simplicity patterns go on sale at the local Hancock fabric store. $1.99 per. I'm thrilled. :)

Speaking of Hancock fabrics, the local store is accepting applications. I've considered working there for years, and with my Abilify (or whatever is responsible for this new sense of purpose) I think I want to do it now. Superman says I should go for it because it would be good for me. Twitch told me I should so I could get out of the house because I hate it here. Boy, he's got my number, doesn't he? I thought about going over there to fill out the application today, but have decided to sleep on it another day and perhaps go tomorrow. Because I'm scared?? Maybe. I also think it'd be a good idea to sleep on it one more night. And there's a good sale on tomorrow. :-)

Enough for now. There are pictures in my phone that I want to share, but not this time.

Good intentions

Of course I've been meaning to write. Almost wrote a post last night, but was too tired.

I got a lot of good work done yesterday. I fixed a rather elaborate dinner. It wasn't all that fancy, but I ended up spending a lot of time in the kitchen. It was a good meal, too. Roasted chicken, low fat sweet potato casserole, and a simple salad that Superman made. Oh, and homemade yeast rolls. It's the dessert that took so much time and used so many eggs. I made an angel food cake, using a dozen egg whites. That left me with a dozen egg yolks. So I made a big double recipe of chocolate pudding. Have you ever made pudding from scratch? It's time consuming. Not terribly difficult, though not  simple either. Anyway, I had fun with it. Dinner was a success, the food part anyway. The table conversation, not as much.

Because the kids were at the table with us. Diva and Sproing got deeply involved in a spat. Again. For the second night in a row. Twitch didn't help, adding his opinions to the fray. And right now, honestly, I can't even remember which particular mess happened last night or the night before. And I don't remember details of the arguments either.

One of the things I was going to say last night is that I'm doing better with the kids. I've been more involved in the household, spending a bit less time hiding in my room. That seems to help some. Sometimes. And yesterday morning I woke up before 5. I lay in bed thinking about making waffles, and finally got up and did that. That's one of the things that kept me in the kitchen for so long yesterday. I made a huge quadruple batch of waffles, with plenty of leftovers to freeze. Think Eggos, only better. That used 8 eggs right there. Yeah, I went through about two dozen eggs yesterday, all things considered. The sweet potato casserole used one, the dinner rolls used another couple. I had a brief nap after lunch, but had to get up to pick up Sproing from bad kid school. He gets out at 1:45. School starts around 8, more or less. I can't remember exactly. Superman takes him in the morning, I usually pick him up in the afternoon. It's a relatively short school day. Shorter by an hour than the elementary schools. Think of it, though, a whole school program full of troublesome students like Sproing. They don't hang on well throughout the day (Sproing's medicine wears off early sometimes) and who wants to deal with that much grief for a long time? So yeah, they only have about five hours of school. I guess that qualifies legally as one day's instruction. They have to get their required 180 days in. Except for when the kids get suspended. Which Sproing did last week. Did I mention that? Yeah, he got suspended from bad kid school for three days. What a mess. Kinda like this paragraph, which is a huge mess. Let's leave this particular travesty and begin another paragraph, shall we?

So, better at dealing with these kids, right? Well, maybe. Or not. Let's discuss today. (Must we?) (Yes, Java, go ahead and get it out. It'll be alright. Take a deep breath, be calm, etc.) This morning I got a call from the high school, from one of the assistant principals. Diva was in trouble and needed to be taken home. Her regular assistant principal was out of the office today, so another one had to fill in. Diva was not suspended or anything, just sent home for today. Because she was not cooperating in class or something. What she did was get up and walk out of a class after the teacher refused to allow her to leave. That's the mood she's in. She got into some argument with another student or students before school and let this attitude affect her behavior. So she was sent home. Except she wouldn't come out to the truck when I got there. So I went in to get her, but she wouldn't go with me, she wanted to see her guidance counselor. Fine. We go in to see the counselor. She doesn't want me to go with her. Tough, I'm your mom and you don't get to choose these things. She told the counselor about the drama with the other girls. He said something like "OK, I see that problem, but look at your choices now. You are the one who's letting this attitude affect you. You can't change their behavior, you can only control yours." You know, that sort of thing. She huffed out his office and went back to class. WTF? She's been sent home, she can't go back to class! I didn't know where she was and asked the nice lady in the attendance office to help find her. Yeah, the kid went to her next class. The nice attendance lady (she really is a nice woman. I like her.) sent someone to escort Diva to the front office where I was waiting to take her home. You can imagine Diva's attitude by now.

We got in the truck, I told her to put on her seatbelt, and she refused. Good gods, is this how it's gonna be? So I turned the truck off. We aren't moving until you put on your seatbelt. Fine. We sat there for 45 minutes. In the heat. (Thankfully it isn't as hot and humid as it has been.) I ended up calling for the school resource officer to help. He got her to fasten her seatbelt. We came home. I told her she is grounded for the long holiday weekend (they are out of school Monday, oh my aching ass). She wouldn't give me her phone, but called her boyfriend (he's 13. Where is he that he can talk to her in the middle of a school day?). Anyway, a bunch of yada yada yada like this shit for a while. Superman came home. He tried to reason with her. Nope, no good. So he spanked her with his belt. No good. She ran off. We called the police to report her as a runaway. She actually came back home, was in the back yard but we didn't know it. Sproing saw her back there. So the nice police officer came over, talked to her, talked to Superman and me a bit.

Before Superman went back to work he talked to Diva again, this time she listened. She did her laundry (one of the things I told her to do) and said she would clean her room and the bathroom. I haven't checked up on that yet. I keep thinking I'll get up and go check, but alas, I can't seem to motivate my butt off this bed and away from the computer. Yeah, I'm afraid of her. My defenses don't want to subject me to her presence.

I took away the curtain from her window. I took away her rat (hamster, but whatever). There isn't a whole lot that she has that we can take away. Oh, about the phone. She refused to give the phone to her dad, so he went to the mobile phone store and had it disconnected. So she might have the physical phone, but she has no way to call, text, etc. anyone she wants to talk to. I think she can still call the emergency number, so that's good there, I guess.

Superman called a few minutes ago, asked about supper plans. I have some stuff I can throw together for dinner, but he wants to go out to our default location. So he's picking up some cheap nasty take out pizzas for the ne'er-do-wells and we'll go out tonight. I wonder if that's the best decision. Perhaps we should stay here to supervise the mayhem. But I can't think clearly right now. He says he's considered it, and the best option is to get away from them for a couple of hours. Hopefully pizza will placate them for that long.

I really don't know what else to say. There are some other things happening in my life, I think. I sewed some this week. Made a dress that I plan to paint. It's a plain muslin thing I put together to test the pattern. I want to use the pattern on other fabric, but want to make sure the pattern works for me. So I have this white dress that, for the most part, works pretty well except the color. So I'm going to paint it so it looks fantastic. That's the plan. I have to be more calm and sane than I have been today for that to work at all. I tried to do a couple of other things this afternoon, but was too frantic and scattered to accomplish anything except sitting here playing Mahjong Titans and surfing the 'net. I hate this crazy feeling. I really thought I was starting to get my shit together better than this, but I didn't count on the Diva Explosion. I suppose I should have. She always does this eventually.

Hell, I don't want to talk about her anymore right now. I'll post this, change my shirt, put on some shoes in preparation for going out with my wonderful husband. Yeah, that's the plan.

It's primarily bad children, though

So much has happened in the 23 hours since my last post. Holy shit.

Currently listening to this.

Except of course I don't feel fine. Half way through a bottle of Martini Asti sparkling wine (cheap shit, my favorite!) and am feeling better in some respects. 

But seriously, what the fuck can I do with these trolls? Let me see if I can catch you guys up on all the unfortunate drama. 

Superman got home last evening around 8, maybe? Not sure. I'd closed my eyes to rest but wasn't fully asleep. Neither of the trolls was home, which is good and bad. They weren't actively annoying me, but I didn't know where they were and was concerned about their welfare. Go figure. Also pissed at them. Sproing is grounded, dammit, but he's gone. Diva is just a wild bitch and I don't trust her.

So Superman decided it was time to call the police to report them missing or runaways. They found Diva in Abbeville staying with her boyfriend. I am vaguely aware she has someone she calls a boyfriend, but I don't know who this kid is. Her dad and I specifically told her Friday night that she could NOT go to Abbeville. We both tried to call her but her phone went directly to voice mail and she didn't return any calls. So anyway, the police found her, went to the home where she was staying and took her to the Abbeville police department. That pissed her off, believe me! Embarrassed her in front of her boyfriend and his uncle. hee hee. Serves her right. We had to drive to Abbeville to bring her home. At midnight. After Superman hadn't had any significant sleep for approximately 40 hours. He felt like shit. I drove.

Sproing came home while we were out retrieving his sister. We called the police officer who was managing this fiasco to let him know everyone was home now. He came over and gave a nice little lecture to the kids. It did no good, of course. They can ignore grownups with alacrity. I added my two cents because my two cents is worth a lot more and they should listen to the wisdom of their mother. Dammit, their mother is fuckin' wise! They are missing out on a good thing here, right Light? I know useful shit, don't I?

But I digress. Cut to today. Sproing got up this morning and his dad gave him some tasks to do. Sproing talked back to his dad, made some snarky comment, and Superman smacked him upside the head. Sproing spouted off disrespectfully again, so Superman smacked him again and knocked him over. Sproing then got up and did what his dad told him to do, thank you sir.

I made a detailed list of things for Diva to do in the kitchen. By 2:00 I still hadn't seen her so I sent Dad to check. She was still in her piss soaked bed. Godallmighty it stinks in there! I'm not sure what Superman told her to do, but she didn't like it so she called the case manager to complain that her parents are unfit. Or something. I am not sure. Then I think she threatened to call the police, to which Superman replied "go ahead." And she did. Two young men from the city police department came out to interview Diva and Superman, separately. Superman told them exactly what happened. Yes, he smack the kid twice, and the kid fell down the second time. The kid got smacked for being disrespectful. OK, fine. The other officer talked to Diva. Don't know what she told him. Then both of the officers spoke to our next door neighbor. I have no idea what that was about. Superman told me what had transpired, and I decided I needed to talk to the officers myself.

Well, I went through the living room and there was Diva. I asked her something, can't now remember what. What do you think you're doing? maybe? Anyway, she got all sassy with me. I told her no, she is my child and she does what I want. She said that she told the officers that her daddy had threatened to hit her. I asked her if she told them that she had assaulted me? Oh, they don't need to know that. Pissed me off. So I went out to speak to the officers. Superman and Diva joined me.

(Update: All 750 ml of sparkling wine is now on the inside of me.)

We had a little powwow. I told the officers that Diva has a bad attitude. I explained what happened earlier in the weekend - Friday night through Saturday night, with her running away and the police getting involved. She said she doesn't want to stay here. I said I don't want her here, either, but it is our responsibility to make sure she is properly cared for. Oh, get this, she told the officers that she feels stressed being here. HA!!! What a hoot! I feel stressed too, bitch. Put on your big girl panties and get to work. Bitch. I told her and the officers that I was not going to just let her go anywhere without making sure she is properly cared for and supervised. I also told the officers that she is on a lot of medication, and as a parent it is my responsibility to see that she gets medical care. When she left Friday she didn't take her medicine, and missed her Sat. morning dose as well. I asked if she'd taken her meds today, and she said no. Right. I pointed out that some of these meds have withdrawal symptoms if stopped suddenly, and some of her feelings might be due to that. So take your damned medicine bitch!

Then these two fine young men with the Greenwood Police Department proceeded to give her yet another lecture about how she is a child and must obey her parents. She's got it good now. Her parents care about her and are taking good care of her. She is powerless until she turns 18. She needs to obey us. The real world is a lot uglier than this. Et cetera. She didn't like that much, but had the sense to keep her mouth shut. Last time I saw her she was in the kitchen doing what I told her to do. I told Superman to keep me away from her because I want to smack the shit out of her. I want to kick her into next year. I am very angry.

Superman is working on the sink cabinet for the hall bathroom. The bathroom that has been in various stages of remodel for, what, five years now? The sink cabinet is one of the last things to do. He's actually working on it now. I am pleased about that. Perhaps this week we will have a sink in the bathroom. I hope so.

Sparkling wine doesn't seem to like my intestines. Or vise-verse.

I need a break. Yes, I still need to run away. I'm working on a plan. Might run away twice. Perhaps I can take a couple of days, maybe three, away from home this week. But I need a long trip. That won't happen until  after school is out for the summer probably. I don't know yet. We shall see. I want to visit some blog friends in various places along the east coast.

That's what I know now.

We need a new blog post here

I must tell you that I am faring much better than I was when I wrote the previous post. Also, the previous post may have been influenced by hormones just a little bit. Which is not to say that the previous post was not in many ways accurate, however, but I have come down from being quite that close to the brink. I'm coping a little better.

I am also not at home once again. Some of you are familiar with my dear friend Indigo. His mother died after an extended illness (COPD, a terrible way to go) last week. After talking to him on the phone Thursday I realized that yes, he really needed me to be with him. So Friday very early I got in the car and drove to Baltimore, from whence I type. Actually, I will leave very soon, within the hour even, but I felt compelled to write a brief (as brief as it gets with me, which is a dodgy proposition) update on my life, or something like it.

I will drive this afternoon from Baltimore to Richmond, VA where I will spend the evening and overnight with a dear cousin of mine. I haven't seen her since her wedding a few years ago, and have never met the most precious little boy in the world (I have it on good authority - his mother - that this is true of him). So that is where I will rest tonight, then on to South Carolina Monday morning.

And I am away from home once again, as I mentioned. This is significant because I am, once again, thinking with perhaps a clearer mind. I have some ideas, even some inspiration maybe, about my immediate future (within 6 months, say). Note to self: explore ideas of creating interesting fun stuff to sell on Etsy to make enough money to pay my student loan bills. Also, the radical idea of going to seminary to prepare for work in the Unitarian Universalist worship tradition or something similar. Wow. Where did that come from?! We will be discussing these things in future posts, mayhaps.

To continue the original trajectory of the previous paragraph, my mind works differently, with what feels like more clarity, when I am not at home. And here's my theory: those young crazy people who share my last name suck the energy from my soul and cloud my mind with troublesome trivia. It feels like I'm walking into a trap when I go back home. It isn't only my children, either. I strongly suspect the town/city of Greenwood and the state of South Carolina play a role in this strangulation of my soul. Unfortunately, I must go home and I must work in my home and on my home to enable myself and the family to break free from The South (TM) and it's nefarious influences. I understand that with clarity when I am not there. It's harder to see that when I'm up to my ass in alligators in that particular swamp.

These are the things I wish to share with you now. I will finish packing my stuff and get on the road south now. I hope to get back here before too long to continue the saga of whatever the hell this life is.

Fondly,
-Java

Reporting

We survived Diva's visit. The whole thing was slightly surreal.

Since she's been gone we got an Xbox. She was excited about that, and Sproing taught her how to use the controller to play a couple of his games. He was very patient with her. They got along very well, as I mentioned in my previous post.

When it was time for dinner everyone came into the kitchen to eat. We had two tables set up, one of them a door set on saw horses. That's always fun! It means Thanksgiving to me. Anyway, we all came into the kitchen, got plates and served ourselves. Except Diva. She sat in front of the TV in the living room. We had to call her again, then she came in and sat down at the last available spot at the table. She just sat in front of the empty plate with a creepy blank look on her face. I said "Honey, take your plate over and get some food." She stared at me for probably 30 seconds before getting up. She got one thing then came back to the table. I suggested she go back and get some more stuff, and Superman helped guide her through the decision making process. She ate what she got, and expressed a liking for the sweet potato casserole when Sproing put up a fight about eating the 2 tablespoons of sweet potato I gave him.

I napped for an hour after dinner, then got up to go with Superman to return Diva to her rightful place. 70 miles 4 times in one day is a pain in the ass. He and I had a very nice time together on the way home, and an even nicer time once we got home.

Diva is crazy. She often does not show emotion, or if she does it's inappropriate to the situation. She has what psychologists call flat affect (a'-fect; n). It is one symptom of schizophrenia, as is command auditory hallucinations, which she's had. That's when she hears voices telling her to do things (like kill us in our sleep). She's not been diagnosed with schizophrenia, and she may be too young (will be 13 next Saturday) to qualify for that diagnosis. I won't be at all surprised if we hear that she is schizophrenic.

It was stressful having her here, and I think we won't do that again. C and N both recommend that she not ever come back here. They went out after dinner in order to get away from her presence, as both of them were very uncomfortable with her in the house. I locked the doors to my bedroom and office while she was here, and asked the charge nurse at the facility to check her for contraband when we took her back. After we left her, Superman visibly relaxed. He didn't realize how guarded he was until he no longer had to be.

In other news, N wanted to hit the Black Friday sales today. C, who isn't a big fan of that sort of thing anyway, had to go into work and make donuts to keep the citizens of Greenwood fueled up for their power shopping. Since N doesn't have his drivers' license yet, I got up early and took him shopping. We left the house shortly after 6:00 and were gone for 2.5 hours. We hit Wal-Mart first, then went to what passes for our mall. I got a couple of Christmas gifts for Sproing and N bought himself a few garments. I got up really early. I can feel a nap approaching rapidly.

I haven't forgotten you

And here we have some of my art. This is a piece from out first assignment, which was to make fertility figures or something suggestive of fertility. This here is supposed to be a pregnant pig with really big teats. The swirls give her visual interest and maybe suggest the curly tail, except that this curly tail has gone wild all over her body. I don't know, people. Sometimes these things come to me like that.

Madame Pig from the other side. She's about the size of a small fist. Oh, and pay no attention to the time stamp on the photo. I accidently changed it and haven't fixed it yet.
This fertility figure is more a maternity figure, I suppose. The form is supposed to suggest a mama bear, and there are her two little cubs. The one lying down looks like a baby gerbil to me, but I meant for it to be a small bear cub.
Mama bear's back is all dressed up with a symbol signifying what she eats (salmon) and where she lives (Pacific Northwest)
Here they are snuggled all together in the protection of Mama's embrace.
There are more figures from this assignment, one pretty boring and the other amazing. I'm too tired to load them now. Remind me if I forget later. Tomorrow in class I will take more pictures of the latest completed assignment. I may also photograph my current work in progress. I'll try to get some pics posted here.

I'm quite busy this semester, as I've mentioned. And that's all I have to say about that. Today I am amazingly sleepy. Almost time for my next nap.

We had a lovely Samhain (Halloween) celebration over here last night. A core group of young people, C and N's closest friends, came over and we had a feast and celebration. I cooked a lot of food! I didn't realize that I was doing most of the cooking, but when the table was set, there was all this food that I made. Superman fixed some of those really skinny steaks, I can't remember what they're called. That was our emergency back-up meat. The guys bought a very nice pork loin, but for complicated reasons it did not start cooking as early as it should have. It was finally finished when everything was over around 1:00 this morning. I just had a piece of the pork loin for lunch. It's amazingly good! We may have to do that again, only plan it better next time.

Late last night I had an attack of the blues. That so doesn't describe it, though. An attack of the black? I was overcome by a painful sadness, a mourning of what I don't know. I felt closer to crazy than I have in a while. It was a familiar feeling. Maybe that's what I was sad about, that it was so familiar. I don't know.

One of the elements of our celebration was masks. We had been instructed to bring a mask to wear. Last weekend I drew out some sketches for a mask I had in mind, and yesterday afternoon I made it. Thing about my mask, though, in concept it was less of a mask and more of an unmask. C is the only one who understood the significance of it, simply because he knows me so well. I used a piece of black craft foam, the thin lightweight stuff that is easy to cut into shapes, but stays stiff enough to not fold up under its own weight, mostly. I dunno. Look it up. Anyway, I used this piece of black craft foam, cut into a shape similar to that of Robin's mask. Instead of being smooth across the bottom, I cut it so that there were extensions from the outside of the eye area that ran down the outsides of my cheeks, sort of. One on each side, sort of curling out around my cheeks. The top of the mask above the eyes went up, forming the apex of a semicircle that surrounded my forehead, from the temples, up over the forehead, then back to the other temple. Don't know if I've described it well.

But on to the concept of the mask. The two pieces that ran down around my cheeks I covered with a line of clear rhinestones, diamond-like in appearance. Those were my tears, tracking down my face to my chin. This was a sorrowful mask. Recently, I'd say over the last few months I've been pretty happy. There haven't been many of those sorrowful days. However, the sorrow and pain are always with me, usually not far from the surface. Deep enough these days that it isn't too obvious to most people. My mask unmasked those feelings, and though the celebration was going along very well and I was tired but happy, suddenly the sorrow rammed into me. I sat on the ground for a while, then moved to the lawn chair and sat for a long time after everyone else went inside. C and N came out to sit with me. C held my hand and asked me those questions that must be asked. Do you intend to hurt yourself? Are you planning to kill yourself? He's a good friend and I love him very deeply. And no, I had no intentions of doing myself in. We discussed taking a very small number of pills to calm my raging emotions/nerves, and that is what I decided to do.

Before they came out to sit with me I had figured out what I needed to do. I had to burn the mask. I removed it, held it in my hands for a while watching as the light from our campfire illuminated the rhinestones. C followed me as I walked over to the fire to drop the damned mask in. Funny how different things burn. That mask curled up on itself, burst into flames, and quickly melted to nothing. I think I felt better. So I came inside, took some aleve for my headache and 1 mg of benzodiazapine. Then I washed my face and went to bed. I felt better immediately. I assume I did, having no recollection of what transpired from then until I woke up at 9 or so this morning.

Today is obviously a sleep day. I've had one nap already, and keep nodding off while typing this. I'm going to take another nap now.

Happy Halloween, Happy Samhain, and Happy New Year to all.

Some days are like that

Thankfully, today isn't one of them. But I couldn't resist posting this picture.

I found this here.

So what happened?

Picking up from here...

Superman and I got to where Sproing was on Monday afternoon sometime close to 4:30. He was glad to see us, gave us hugs, etc. I loved on him a bit. He allowed me to! I want him to know that the rejection isn't malicious or personal. He has some problems, needs help, but that doesn't invalidate his existence. He is of the opinion, and has been for a long time, that he is ugly and stupid and doesn't deserve to live and should never have been born.

We put him in the car and I surreptitiously flipped the switch on the back doors to disable the handles from working on the inside. I was afraid he'd try to open the door and bolt. Indeed, he threatened to. While on the way back said he was going to open the car door and throw himself out so he would die. Was he serious? Does it matter? Just saying that indicates a troubled mind.

Let me back up a bit. When Superman and I left Greenwood I started making calls. (He was driving.) I talked to the school social worker, to my counselor, and I can't remember who else. The social worker (my personal hero, btw) was very concerned. She said that he needs serious intervention, and NOT to bring him back to Greenwood. He won't get help here, and frankly he's too dangerous, too shaken up to be let out of sight. She looked up a few places, called me back and gave me phone numbers of mental health hospitals with adolescent wards. I called one but they couldn't take any new patients, they are full with a waiting list.

I was just too freaked out to call any other place. But the social worker had mentioned a place adjacent to one of the hospitals in the Columbia metro area. (We had to go through Columbia to get to Sproing.) I didn't have that phone number, though, and didn't know where that (or any) hospital is. I'm not too familiar with the city.

Well, we were driving along, getting close to Columbia, the traffic was getting heavier, and Superman was stressing. Duh. We made a wrong turn. It was easy to fix; just go up here to this road, take that to over there, then hook up to the road we need. It only took us very slightly out of our way... or did it? Guess what we saw on the "wrong" road? The mental health facility! I said "LOOK! That's where we're stopping on our way back!"

And we did. But back to Sproing. We got him, stopped for gas, then went to Haus du Waffel. I had a hankerin' for pee-can waffles. All three of us were hungry. It was weird, though. We knew Sproing had to be protected from himself. We had to be very careful. We hovered. We sat in a booth with Sproing "locked" in on the other side of his Daddy. The boy couldn't move. Neither of us got farther than three feet from him, both of us ready to spring if he sprung.

Back in the car he talked about being glad to go home to play with Scheherazade and his PSP. No, honey, that isn't going to happen. He alternated that with vitriol, saying he hates us, we hate him, he's ugly and stupid (a common refrain), and he won't live in this house ever again. He'll just kill himself. Or run away. He wants to live in a cardboard box beside the highway. Superman started to "reason" with him, but I told him not to bother. There is no reasoning there. But then Sproing said he was glad to be going home from that stupid boys' home. And he hates us. The pendulum was swinging wide and fast. It was strong evidence that the boy is off his rocker, and reinforced our decision to take him to the hospital.

Which we did. We pulled into the parking lot and tried to get him to come with us. No such luck. So I drove around to the patient-drop-off circle and sent Superman in to retrieve strong-arm assistance. What they did instead was give him a clipboard of forms to fill out. Doesn't that sound just like a hospital? Sproing and I waited in the car (doors and windows locked). He fumed. He bounced off the seat, ceiling, doors of the back seat. He screamed. (It's a small car. The sound was nerve wracking.) He lay on the seat and kicked the door as hard as he could. I'm impressed with the strength of that door.

Superman finally came out and said we could go in. He had to pull Sproing out of the seat by his arms, and I got behind the boy and sort of hugged him while leading him to the door. He was like a caged animal once we got inside. We were in a tiny interview room with an intake social worker. Sproing was pacing, banging the walls, bouncing off the furniture, crawling on the floor. He crawled under my chair and hid for a while. That was as still as he got. Superman and I answered the nice lady's questions. When she had the low-down, she assured us that he would be admitted, but she had to call the doctor-on-call to make it official.

In the meantime (and after speaking to me out in the hall, away from the boy, to ask if she should) she put us into another tiny room behind the locked doors. It's a good thing she did, too, because at one point Sproing ran out of the room and tried to run through the doors to the lobby. It took a really long time. We probably waited an hour or more. The nurses on the adolescent ward weren't ready to process him until nearly 10:00. Sproing was their third intake of the evening. I guess there are lots of crazy young'uns in South Carolina.

During our wait Sproing calmed down a little bit. We had some positive interactions. He and Superman played the license plate word game* with letters Superman made up. He let me hold him and scratch his back. Then he bounced off the walls and kicked things.

We finally went to the ward. Superman and I had to sign a few consent forms for medications. By then Sproing had shut down. He sat slump-shouldered in a chair, no expression. I gave him a hug (he didn't resist) and told him we'd be there to visit on Thursday evening (the next visiting time). And we left. And though I'm exhausted, I feel good about the whole thing.

Addendum: I spoke with one of the nurses earlier this evening. She said he had a rough afternoon. He insisted that I was going to pick him up and take him home this evening. He took all of his clothes to the lounge area, put them in a chair beside the door, and tried to open the door. Of course it's locked. Then he banged on the door. Then banged his head on the door. Then threw his clothes in the garbage can. He was taken to the "observation room" where he continued beating his head against the door (or wall, I'm not sure which) and then threatened to kill himself. The nurse tried to give him a pill (some kind of chill pill thing) but he refused it. So they had to restrain him and give him the medicine by injection. Oooh, consequences! I wonder if he'll accept the pill next time. Anyhow, he was asleep when I called.

She asked me if this was the kind of behavior we've seen at home. Well, not quite, but close. He usually doesn't get quite that violent, but what she described is consistent with the type of things he does. Nothing she described surprises me.

They only allow visits on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday from 6:00 - 7:30, and the patients can receive phone calls on the other days of the week, but only from 6:30 to 8:00. Since he was sleeping when I called at 6:30, I'm going to call again after 7:30 to see if he can talk. I don't know what to expect.

*SC license plates are alpha-numeric, with three letters. The game is to think of a word that contains those three letters in that order. Sproing is surprisingly good at it.

Post Script: To answer Karen's question; fortuitously, Twitch is on quarter break from school, so he was here to take care of Diva while we took care of Sproing.