Yesterday we had an appointment with a nurse to do the initial assessment for admission to the treatment center where my daughter will be doing IOP. The nurse was asking questions like, "When was the last time you used drugs? How much did you use? When was the last time you purged? How often did you purge?" To which my daughter replied over and over again, "I don't know. It was so long ago" or "That was forever ago." I couldn't help but smile. It was a little over two months ago.
Then last night at the NA meeting, I overheard my daughter talking to someone about how she has had SO MUCH THERAPY, she is sick of it. (It's been five weeks.) Again, I couldn't help but smile because she was talking to a young woman who is being treated for serious anorexia, which involves months and months of residential treatment and years of intense therapy.
This seems to be very typical of how teenagers think, or maybe it is just the way my drama-queen-daughter thinks. Time does not consist of 86,400 seconds a day, 365 days a year for her the way it does for me. The ED therapist was telling me about how my daughter was talking about wanting to play volleyball (as a way to get some exercise) and then she jumped to how important it was for her to keep up her skills so that she can get a scholarship to college and then get a good job and live a good life. She will talk about finishing high school and going to community college and then to UCLA all in the same breath.
On the one hand, I think it is charming and funny. She is talking about good things and looking forward to life. On the other hand, I can see how it can be overwhelming when it looks like forever is around the corner and it seems like things will never get better. It gives new meaning to the AA/NA/Al-Anon mantra, "One day at a time."
Today is supposed to be an uneventful, quiet day at home (unless insurance authorization comes through and my daughter ends up going to IOP). Our goal is to focus on and enjoy all 86,400 seconds of it.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
the madness has been temporarily postponed
We found out that today's appointment was only an assessment. My daughter will start IOP either tomorrow or Monday. (I'm hoping for Monday!)
Oh yayyy!! I'm enjoying these few, short hours at home, made all the sweeter because it was unexpected.
Oh yayyy!! I'm enjoying these few, short hours at home, made all the sweeter because it was unexpected.
gearing up for the madness
It turns out IOP is four hours a day, Monday through Friday. (sigh...)
Today we have to head east 30 minutes to go to IOP, then four hours later, head west 60 minutes to pick up my son from school and spend the evening with him. Then after dinner, we drive 45 minutes north to go to the Adolescent Narcotics Anonymous meeting held for alumni of the treatment program (my daughter's favorite meeting) and their parents support group (my favorite meeting). And finally another 45 minutes to drive back home, arriving at 10:00 p.m. just in time to go to bed.
One day at a time... (breathe...)
Today we have to head east 30 minutes to go to IOP, then four hours later, head west 60 minutes to pick up my son from school and spend the evening with him. Then after dinner, we drive 45 minutes north to go to the Adolescent Narcotics Anonymous meeting held for alumni of the treatment program (my daughter's favorite meeting) and their parents support group (my favorite meeting). And finally another 45 minutes to drive back home, arriving at 10:00 p.m. just in time to go to bed.
One day at a time... (breathe...)
understanding the second step
"Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves
could restore us to sanity."
AA/Al-Anon Step 2
could restore us to sanity."
AA/Al-Anon Step 2
I've started my daily Al-Anon meditations again and today I am reading about Step Two. Six of the 12 Steps refer to a Higher Power or to God and a seventh step (the last one) talks about having a spiritual awakening. Based on what I am hearing at meetings, it seems like the majority of people in Al-Anon, when they start, are either very angry with God or refuse to believe that there is one. They struggle with turning over control to a Higher Power. I've been a Christian all my life, but in the last six years, have developed an especially close relationship with God so when I read the steps that refer specifically to a Higher Power, I feel like, "I got this." As usual, I got this wrong.
"The basic spiritual principle introduced in Step Two suggests that there is a Power greater than we are that provides hope for sanity, whether we are living with active alcoholism or not. Step Two reaffirms that we may be powerless, but we are not helpless, and we are not alone. "
Paths to Recovery: Al-Anon's Steps, Traditions, and Concepts, p. 18
The concept of a Higher Power is not a point of debate. It is not about whether there is a God, or why He allows bad things to happen. It is about believing that there is something MORE, something bigger out there that can make things better. That we are not alone in this struggle. It is about hope.
This chapter continues on, to invite those who cannot or refuse to bring God into their walk.
"Some of us reject religion of any kind and call ourselves either agnostics or atheists. It is important to hear that, whether we practice a particular religion or not, all of us are welcome in Al-Anon. Yet, when we approach Step Two, we may suspect that a group ideology will be revealed, and we will be forced to conform or leave. Instead the group's members turn us toward defining our own idea of a Higher Power, and we come to believe that such a Power could exist and might help us."
Paths to Recovery: Al-Anon's Steps, Traditions, and Concepts, p. 18
I LOVE THIS. All are welcome, no matter where you're at in your experience or what you believe. We do not have to go through this struggle alone. We have hope.
Monday, September 12, 2011
she's doing really really well
I realized that I have not talked about how my daughter is doing for several weeks now.
She is doing REALLY REALLY WELL!
She is very eager to leave Partial treatment and live at home. She'll be starting an online high school program and hopes to finish high school in two years instead of three. We're talking about enrolling her in drama and music classes (her two loves). She is teaching me about food exchanges, the eating program she learned in the Eating Disorder program, and we will eat according to her plan together.
She is full of hope and excitement for the future and I love her enthusiasm. It's like having my daughter back but only better.
Thank-you God for wonderful people and the treatment programs that have allowed my daughter to become a better version of herself.
She is doing REALLY REALLY WELL!
She is very eager to leave Partial treatment and live at home. She'll be starting an online high school program and hopes to finish high school in two years instead of three. We're talking about enrolling her in drama and music classes (her two loves). She is teaching me about food exchanges, the eating program she learned in the Eating Disorder program, and we will eat according to her plan together.
She is full of hope and excitement for the future and I love her enthusiasm. It's like having my daughter back but only better.
Thank-you God for wonderful people and the treatment programs that have allowed my daughter to become a better version of herself.
my room is a mess
I realized a long time ago that my bedroom is a physical representation of how things are in my life. And it's a mess right now.
My daughter was stepped down from Residential treatment last Tuesday to Partial. In Partial treatment, you go to the treatment center eight hours a day, six days a week. (For more information about how the mental health system works, see this posting.) The treatment center is about 50 miles from my home and with traffic, can take three hours one way. After the first day of driving out there to pick her up, I knew this was not going to work. So I packed up and stayed in a hotel out near the center for four days. We are hoping to step her down to IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program) tomorrow, which is three hours a day, three days a week and, hopefully, at a facility a bit closer to my home.
During the month or so that my daughter was in residential treatment, life returned to "normal" for me. Actually quieter than normal since my son is no longer here during the week. I finally cleaned up my room and closet, paid the huge stack of bills that had been sitting untouched since all this started, even finished a couple of projects that I had not been able to get to before. I did not feel the need to go to Al Anon meetings and stopped reading my daily meditations. And I stopped blogging.
Both kids were home this weekend, the first time in a month. My bedroom has become our "hub." We watch our Saturday night movie in here while eating pizza, as evidenced by dishes left behind. My daughter has been working on some craft projects at my coffee table and all the supplies are still out. Laundry is mounded on my bed, waiting to be folded. File folders that I ransacked earlier in the week are piled high on my desk.
My room is a mess, and not for negative reasons, but it is still a mess. It still needs to be cleaned up.
Today, while my daughter is gone most of the day for her last Partial treatment day, I will work on cleaning up my room both physically and metaphorically. As I clean up after my kids, I will think about how to teach them the discipline to clean up after themselves. And as I put away the laundry and the files, I will work on a plan to bring discipline back into my own life.
Time to establish a new "normal."
My daughter was stepped down from Residential treatment last Tuesday to Partial. In Partial treatment, you go to the treatment center eight hours a day, six days a week. (For more information about how the mental health system works, see this posting.) The treatment center is about 50 miles from my home and with traffic, can take three hours one way. After the first day of driving out there to pick her up, I knew this was not going to work. So I packed up and stayed in a hotel out near the center for four days. We are hoping to step her down to IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program) tomorrow, which is three hours a day, three days a week and, hopefully, at a facility a bit closer to my home.
During the month or so that my daughter was in residential treatment, life returned to "normal" for me. Actually quieter than normal since my son is no longer here during the week. I finally cleaned up my room and closet, paid the huge stack of bills that had been sitting untouched since all this started, even finished a couple of projects that I had not been able to get to before. I did not feel the need to go to Al Anon meetings and stopped reading my daily meditations. And I stopped blogging.
Both kids were home this weekend, the first time in a month. My bedroom has become our "hub." We watch our Saturday night movie in here while eating pizza, as evidenced by dishes left behind. My daughter has been working on some craft projects at my coffee table and all the supplies are still out. Laundry is mounded on my bed, waiting to be folded. File folders that I ransacked earlier in the week are piled high on my desk.
My room is a mess, and not for negative reasons, but it is still a mess. It still needs to be cleaned up.
Today, while my daughter is gone most of the day for her last Partial treatment day, I will work on cleaning up my room both physically and metaphorically. As I clean up after my kids, I will think about how to teach them the discipline to clean up after themselves. And as I put away the laundry and the files, I will work on a plan to bring discipline back into my own life.
Time to establish a new "normal."
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