The three years off meds was a turbulent time for our family. It go to the point I just accepted her behavior and just lived with it. We did have a few discussions with the school on lies she was saying about us. That were brought up that concerned them. The school just wrote her off as a compulsive lier. When Tasha was interviewed by the school so was Natalie. Natalie's story was always told different. These event led to there being a wedge between the girls. Natalie resented her and how she acted. I knew something new was going on with the school because Natalie told me she was interviewed by a protective service worker. Dejavu here we go again was all I could think. We went down this road I can not do this again. The worker called me to set-up a time for the meeting. I made sure Chris was also home. Because he was the likely target her lies were directed at.
This time I was ready to defend myself and family. I was sick of her lies and if I had to. I would send her away for a while. I remember my anxiety when I opened the door. His first words were "what ever your about to tell me I believe you." shock ran through me he was not here to judge just help. He told me he believed without a doubt my thirteen year old was homicidal and suicidal. Leaning more to homicidal because of her arrogance. He was terrified of her and he wanted her to get help immediately. This was frightening to hear even though I knew that already. For once someone saw what I did it was such a relief. I took his advice, with the insurance I had this did not leave me with many choices.
I decided on a local organization unfortunately they kept cancelling my appointment because the doctor had a emergency. Two months went by since my visit and I was more terrified of her then before. I remember taking my newborn son with me to bed and hiding all of the knives because I had know ides what she was capable of. I remember her getting angry staring at the wall for hours and her eyes going black. This would happen all of the time. Yes, it was finally effecting school I had to act. One night she through a major fit she ended up in the hospital because that is what I was suppose to do if she was out of control. They were also scared of her and found her a room in a mental facility. She went in there angry, smelly, and a mess. She stopped taking care of her self physically and it got to the point I couldn't force her to bathe, eat, or make her go to school. Calling the police to make her go to school was getting very old.
She was at the facility for a week they put her in the younger children's group because that is where her mind was. She went back on medication. One I never heard of it was called Geodon. 100mg a day from this point forward. On our first visit she had her door decorated with her art work from top to bottom. She was bathed, eating, and clean. She had rules and followed them. She was a whole new kid in my eyes. The week she spent there she was diagnosed not with bipolar, but with schizophrenia. This diagnosis was bounced back in forth for two years though. Every ones reaction including doctor was you can't diagnose her so young. How can anyone be sure she just has a big imagination. My favorite courtesy of my mother. "you will find out she is just slow with a little bit of bipolar."
The next two years were rough. One thing I knew her vision and delusions were a bay. That was the important part the rest I could handle just like before. In those two years I never had her in counseling. The counselor said this probably won't help but we can try. Ya, I'm going hand over $100 a week for that diagnosis. So we continued the medication religiously. I knew one thing it was working I had no doubt about that.
She still had major struggles in middle school. She was bullied a lot I mean a lot. Most days she came home from school crying. She didn't help herself out she stood out more then anyone. With her sensory issues her clothing preferences were not in by any means. Her OCD tendencies were very known to the kids. She insisted on putting on chap stick ever fifteen minutes. Sometimes she was not care full and it made her look like she had a clown face. I learned to accept the strange things she did and focus on the more damaging things. She continued this medical course for the next two years until she was fifteen.
No comments:
Post a Comment