In community, part 2

Watercolor by Val Hebert, Quote from Cinderella

In my last post, I made a great deal of progress in my attempt to reconcile the discord in my own head between the NAMI approach and the AL-Anon approach towards living with someone with a co-occurring disorder, often referred to as a dual diagnosis. In fact, I wrote at length about supporting the notion of living in community with a loved one who may be mentally imbalanced and using drugs, and helping them find a way back to healthier living and integrating into society. 

Well, as things panned out- and oh yes, how they pan out when dealing with a co-occurring disorder - I might have to change up my thinking on this. Or, at least, I have to add one caveat:

When making the choice to live in community with those who suffer from a co-occurring diagnosis, it is very wise to make sure the person or people involved are stable*.  

I am not ready to talk about the whole story, but suffice it to say it involves an previously unknown mentally deranged person wielding a golf club, a stabbing, jail, lawyers and courts, charges dropped, community mobilizations, teens staying in my house and being kicked out of my house, angry nasty parents of one teen, the disillusion of the aforementioned "Community", three house moves within a six week period, and more. The drama was unbelievable. Basically, another new chapter in a book that I am somehow supposed to write. I think the book's title will be: "XXXXXXX- xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx". (I decided to hide the name because I like it, and might really need to use it one day).

Yeah... that "in community" thing? it can take down the whole damn family. And fast...

But, there is a good outcome to things that went down too. I think I will save that for the next post.

Thanks for listening,
Val

*stable, meaning they are taking their meds, seeing their doctors, and on a positive path.

19 years... 1 day at a time

The post title sounds like someone has 19 years sober, but that isn't what I'm talking about. 19 years refers to the age of my oldest son. He will be 19 years old on April 24. Frankly, I am amazed and so glad that he is still here with us.... walking, talking, smiling, simply here - among the living.

19 years with my son... 1 day at a time... 

Please don't get me wrong. I am not trying to be morbid. It's just that things have always been so precarious with him. From the day I went into preterm labor with him (week 21 of my pregnancy- only 1/2 way through a normal pregnancy), to getting him established at birth (born at week 36 - a true miracle after that crazy hospitalized medicated pregnancy to stop contractions), to learning about living with a little guy who calls the shots.... Man, he started this at birth, and it's just gone on since then.... Then to his teen years. These years felt defined by school failures - more on the part of the school system than my son, but he was the one who took the brunt of it all, self medicating began, then the lying and contradictions due to his drug usage, learning about a brain disorder due to the meds I was on during his pregnancy, his severe depression, and the kicker: suicidal ideation... Then, the necessity of sending him away for 3 years because his actions were more than what we could deal with as a family. Hard, hard stuff.

Three weeks ago, I drove up to San Francisco with my younger son and we pulled him out of a druggie apartment. He was strung out on God-knows-what... he'd dropped 30 pounds in the 6 weeks since we'd seen him last. He just looked so, so bad. He had a 42 year old woman who told me she was "in love with him." Okay. Time to get him away. Far, far away.

So, we loaded him into the car, and brought him home. And I guess things are going ok.... First week was the "at home detox", the second week was formulating a plan because using drugs at home isn't gonna happen. The third week (this week) finds him with a job (hooray!) and beginning an adjustment to his medications due to Genomind testing. I can't say that things are all rosy. But I can say that I am setting boundaries, and he is trying hard to work with me. It's definitely not easy, and things are one day at a time. The biggest change, I believe, is within me. Making the choice to work with him in finding a way towards a solution. He is working with us. He is trying to move forward. He will be 19 tomorrow.

Happy birthday, Drew. I love you so much....
xx, Mom