I’d like to start the week over. Maybe then, I could have followed the tracks I needed to have it end up differently. I don’t believe in hell (or heaven, for that matter), but I understand the concept, the pain, associated with it.
Even though I feel like I’ve been through the ringer all week, I’m trying to get some semblance of normality back into my life.
Alan and I went to see Jordan yesterday at the hospital. Visiting hours are from 5:30 PM – 7:00 PM; we left home at 6 and it took us 45 minutes to get there because traffic was so bad. I almost stated crying in the car just out of sheer frustration. Luckily, when we got there–thinking we would only have about 15 minutes–the floor nurse told us that we didn’t have to rush. We stayed until 7:30.
She’s doing well and seems to be enjoying group therapy–note to self: look for group therapy sessions for her when she gets home. They’ve started her on meds for depression and a sleep disorder (root cause: depression) and have begun counseling her on her suicidal thoughts. (Odd, I hesitated before I typed that word. I can’t even bear the thought of it.)
At this point, the doctor has stated that they don’t expect her to be released immediately following the 72 hour hold; they are thinking that she will probably stay until Monday or Tuesday. Alan is not pleased with that and I’m a bit hesitant. I can get her the help that she needs.
For me, there is so much more involved. It pains me to not be able to solve my own child’s problems. I’m her mother, that’s supposed to be part of my job. Why can’t I fix this? I have all of these feelings of guilt: should I take a quarter off of school or try to push through? School can be a distraction from all of this ugliness, but if I can’t concentrate on my homework, how can I expect to succeed? If I don’t go, I just sit and dwell on things.
Plus, I have two other children that need me. When Christian first started therapy, I know that Dakota and Jordan felt abandoned, but I would have done the same for them. I am doing the same for them. It’s just that, at any given time, one of my children will always need me more than the others and there is only so much of me to go around.
At some point, I’m going to reach my breaking point and be of no help to anyone. I can’t always be the strong one, but I can’t give someone else that control either.
As usual, I have more questions than answers.