More about the same old sh!t

Oh my! It's after 9:00 already! I didn't know it was that late.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I'm going through the blog archives searching for stories of Diva's misdoings. I'm actually reading the whole blog backwards. It's an interesting exercise. I haven't found much about Diva yet, but I know it's coming soon. I have found a few damning tales of Sproing, too. I'm going to write a dossier on him, too, so I'm tagging those posts. The whole exercise is dredging up dirt. I don't like it.

However, it is interesting to read about my life. I have read through August of last year. That looked like a good stopping place. I'll tell ya', I'm depressed a lot. So many of my past blog posts relate feelings of depression or stress or being overwhelmed, much like I am right now. Have I always been like this? You didn't know me ten years ago. I think I was more pleasant then. I was a lot more foolish and naive, I'll tell ya' that. Back then I thought that the love of a good family was enough to make an adopted child a healthy and productive member of society. I'm not so naive now. Sometimes love isn't enough. I've learned that nature is more powerful than nurture in some circumstances.

I took Diva to her therapist this afternoon. I hogged the first 45 minutes of the hour. Last week I didn't have a chance to tell her (the therapist) anything about Diva or what's been happening here. Today I grabbed the opportunity and shook it like a mangy dog. I told her about the kids being on unclothed house arrest, about the recent theft and vandalism, and about how they snuck out just this past Saturday and did all the wrong things again. I was jittery and teary and a mess.

This wonderful lady knows all about it. She's got some good experience in this field. Even better, she gave me some hope!!! There is something in this state called "continuum of care." It's a state sponsored mental health program, and she thinks Diva (and Sproing, for that matter) probably qualify. She assured me (as Lady Grace did in her recent comments) that Diva's behavior is extreme, it is as bad as it seems, I am not a failure as a mother, I'm not imagining things. I have a phone number. I will call first thing in the morning and ask for two application packets. There is a process, we'll have to have meetings or something, have home visits, explain ourselves. I don't know exactly, and it will take a little while. I hope it doesn't take too long. She says there is an excellent chance that residential therapeutic placement is probably in Diva's future, and she indicated it probably would be relatively soon. I don't know what "soon" is, exactly, but I'm pretty sure it isn't soon enough for me. OH! And part of the process involves them getting the kids on Medicare. Because Superman earns money, we don't qualify for Medicare. The therapist said most private insurance providers only allow 30 days for in-patient residential care. That isn't anywhere near long enough for this child. Either of these children, actually. So evidently by going through this program they can be eligible for Medicare. Which is good, because we don't have money to provide the care they need otherwise.

I don't know details. Oh, lookie! A website! (Google is my friend) This is cool. I can download the application form.

Alright folks, I'm off to explore that website. You will certainly be kept informed of developments.

(I feel better than I have in weeks! I feel hopeful!)

Kidlet updates

Today has been much better than yesterday on the kidlet front. 

Sproing brought a note home from his teachers today. It says "[Sproing] had a better day today. He did not talk back, and he stayed focused a lot better. Thank you for talking to him. I know he will succeed if he stays focused." It was written by the intern and signed by both her and the regular teacher. I suspect that having Mom Go Talk To the Teachers probably made a difference, or at least made some kind of impact on the young'un. 

Good news on the Diva front, too. This evening she came in and said "Um, Mom, um, don't get mad." (Conversations like that rarely end well.) "I decided to come tell you about it instead of just taking it." Then she told me that she'd been looking for something under the sink in my bathroom and found my make-up bag. It's a very small (and cheap) clutch purse that holds one tube of lipstick and a small eye shadow compact, the extent of my make-up collection. She wants the purse. I told her she couldn't have my purse, BUT since I now know she likes it and wants something like that, I will be on the lookout for one to get for her. Of course I told her how very proud I am that she asked me instead of just taking it. Then I told her again. And reworded it another way and said it again! We definitely want to reward and encourage this behavior!

I've been thinking about Dr. Pedia's dire prediction about Diva. I have decided that my best response to that is to discount what she said about my daughter. IMHO, she's full of shit. She may be a licensed psychiatrist and probably knows a lot of information, but she doesn't have perspective or experience and is generally wrong about Diva being (more or less) a lost cause. No, she never actually said the child is a lost cause, but she certainly indicated very little hope that Diva would ever respond positively to being part of this family. Bullshit. She's my baby girl and I love her. She's gonna be (gonna be?? Already is!) a handful. The next 5-15 years are going to be a wild ride. But there's always hope. For her I hold out a rather large helping of hope. 

No! It'll never pass!

I know it's cliche, but I really like The Birdcage. When I'm having one of my dark depressive episodes, C and I play out this scene as Albert and Agadore.

Java: C, I'm in such pain!

C: I know honey, it's gonna pass.

Java: No! It'll never pass!

And when I'm in the middle of it, it seems as though it will never pass, that I will always be in this tar pit. 

But guess what? It passes! Yes, I do feel better. Friday and Saturday were bad. Yesterday I didn't do much at all. Today I feel much better. The children are in school now. I hope I can maintain this level of sanity once they get home.

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that our van had broken down. Yesterday Superman and I went out to where it was abandoned on the side of the highway to try to start it up again. No go. So we called AAA. I've been a memeber of AAA since 1984. Since we have almost always had old clunker vehicles, AAA has been a very good investment for us. We had the van towed to the shop. The whole ordeal was rather pleasant, actually. Superman and I sat in the pick-up, talking and teasing each other while we waited for the tow truck. It was a bright and breezy day, warm in the sun with a cool wind. It was fun spending time with my husband.

So the van is in the shop. I'm afraid to hear from the mechanic. But I'm not going to worry about it now.

The darkness lifts, I can see hope and possibilities and even a bit of happiness again. This won't last, either. I'll fall into despair again. But it's all temporary. If I can keep this perspective as I work to develope healthier attitudes I can continue to function. It's all good.

The earliest signs of fall

I've been moaning about how long and hot August is, despairing of fall ever arriving. Well, the Bradford Pear tree out front is shutting me up. Today as the late afternoon sun was lighting this side of the tree I noticed two small spots of red among the green canopy. Behold my first hint that summer will be over, fall will indeed come to the middle of nowhere, South Carolina.

Our temperatures haven't been as high this week, either. We didn't even see 90F degrees today. It was miserably humid. Sweat poured off anyone who exerted himself outside. But it wasn't quite as hot. Still, I'm glad I am not driving the bus now!

humor-less

Every day I beat my own previous record for number of consecutive days I've stayed alive.

My darling Mama sent me one of those funny emails everyone gets occasionally. It was a list of humorous and pithy sayings, many of which I'd seen before. You probably have too. But this was a new one on me. I read it to Superman and he got a good little chuckle.

But to me it wasn't funny. It stood out from the other two dozen quotes because it smacks me in the head in a very personal way. Superman didn't see it that way because his brain doesn't go down the morbid paths mine follows.

To me, this quote is a rallying cry for life. It is a handle to grasp on bad days. It has everything to do with resisting suicidal thoughts. Those thoughts that creep unbidden into my head way too often. My desire to die is an almost constant companion. On good days it goes like this: "I think maybe I'll live today. I'm not ready to die today." On bad days I try to remember that if I do myself in it'll fuck up the people I love for the rest of their lives. I don't stay alive for me. I stay alive for the people who depend on me.

I think this is not healthy.

But here's a good saying to help me hang onto life at those times when I'd rather drop it:

Every day I beat my own previous record for number of consecutive days I've
stayed alive.