As we struggle with providers and insurance carriers to put residential treatment into place, I can't help but feel like a failure. Here I am, fighting to get my kids moved away from us for a period of time. The doctor says, "But he's so good!" I know he is. His goodness doesn't change the fact that he is struggling so hard in a world that hurts so much. Good, sweet, loving kids struggle with mental illness too.
Once upon a time he acted out everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean everywhere. For a period of time, he struggled more at school than he did at home. Now he struggles more at home than he does at school. It's all private, which makes it look like the problem is me, especially when we're 2,000 miles from anyone that's witnessed the behavior. I've received denials from our insurance company, suggesting that our issues would be solved with family therapy. I've seen the look on people's faces that say, "WE don't have a problem with him so you're obviously a bad mother." (Thankfully this DOES NOT come from my child's school. They are wonderful.) I've read the literature. I understand why his behaviors are so significant at home. Regardless, I find myself falling into the trap that says the problem is me. I'm just a bad mom.
The belief is arrogant really. The kid endured a decade of horrendous trauma. And I think his two years with me was the source of all this? Why would I believe these lies? Because there's an entire world out there that is thinking, "I could do it better." Judgement is so much easier than doing the really hard work involved in supporting children that come from hard places.
Right now we're all very scared for many different reasons. There are so many feelings surrounding this and feeling like a failure does not make things better. Our biggest fear is, "What if this doesn't work?" I've thought it. My husband's thought it. Our son has asked the question out loud. What if this doesn't work? I have no idea what the answer to that question is, nor do I even want to pursue it. Right now we're resting our hope on residential treatment. We don't expect it to work miracles. We don't expect it to "fix" anything. Our goal is allowing our son to feel comfortable and safe enough to begin exploring his trauma, rather than stuffing it down so tight inside of himself that it can't help but explode when it becomes too much. We are hoping that outpatient therapy might start becoming effective if he lays the groundwork in residential treatment. More than anything, we need to do whatever we can to keep him in our home and out of the system. This, right now, is our only option.
If you're reading this, we need your prayers. We need BIG prayers. Please pray that our insurance approves this swiftly and without requiring an appeal. Please pray that the facility doesn't deem his behaviors to severe for admission into their facility. Please pray for our son as he endures the pain of all of this. And please pray that my husband and I are willing to stand strong and be the parents we have to be for this delightful child.
Once upon a time he acted out everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean everywhere. For a period of time, he struggled more at school than he did at home. Now he struggles more at home than he does at school. It's all private, which makes it look like the problem is me, especially when we're 2,000 miles from anyone that's witnessed the behavior. I've received denials from our insurance company, suggesting that our issues would be solved with family therapy. I've seen the look on people's faces that say, "WE don't have a problem with him so you're obviously a bad mother." (Thankfully this DOES NOT come from my child's school. They are wonderful.) I've read the literature. I understand why his behaviors are so significant at home. Regardless, I find myself falling into the trap that says the problem is me. I'm just a bad mom.
The belief is arrogant really. The kid endured a decade of horrendous trauma. And I think his two years with me was the source of all this? Why would I believe these lies? Because there's an entire world out there that is thinking, "I could do it better." Judgement is so much easier than doing the really hard work involved in supporting children that come from hard places.
Right now we're all very scared for many different reasons. There are so many feelings surrounding this and feeling like a failure does not make things better. Our biggest fear is, "What if this doesn't work?" I've thought it. My husband's thought it. Our son has asked the question out loud. What if this doesn't work? I have no idea what the answer to that question is, nor do I even want to pursue it. Right now we're resting our hope on residential treatment. We don't expect it to work miracles. We don't expect it to "fix" anything. Our goal is allowing our son to feel comfortable and safe enough to begin exploring his trauma, rather than stuffing it down so tight inside of himself that it can't help but explode when it becomes too much. We are hoping that outpatient therapy might start becoming effective if he lays the groundwork in residential treatment. More than anything, we need to do whatever we can to keep him in our home and out of the system. This, right now, is our only option.
If you're reading this, we need your prayers. We need BIG prayers. Please pray that our insurance approves this swiftly and without requiring an appeal. Please pray that the facility doesn't deem his behaviors to severe for admission into their facility. Please pray for our son as he endures the pain of all of this. And please pray that my husband and I are willing to stand strong and be the parents we have to be for this delightful child.
Will pray.
ReplyDeleteOh, hell to the no. You are an awesome mom. You are the best mom I know (myself included). The fact that you have survived (and even triumphed) over all the stuff you've been through in the past two years is a testament to that. Jeez, you are SO ethnocentric, thinking this is all about you.
ReplyDeleteI am going to pray for him, and wish for him, and hope for him, and cross my fingers and toes for him. He is loved, and that is the most important thing. And you are the strongest woman I know. That's all I got in the wise words department, but it's something, right?