What if you don't want to talk?

I feel compelled to write, as it's been a couple of weeks since my last post.  But to be honest I really don't know what I want to say. 

Do I talk about the two sessions I've had with a counsellor? Given the waiting list for this, in my first session I found myself struggling to recall why I had been referred.  Which aspect of my upside down life was I there to talk through and was it still relevant? The second session I threw caution to the wind and dragged us back over 20 years.  I sobbed as I recalled a 20 year old girl settling for the adulterous older man thrown out by his wife, because she felt she must "do the honourable thing".  The honourable thing lasted about 12 years.

And where is this man now?  The father of my children?  Cosy in his home, where he does not have to consider a sick child in his daily or even weekly routine.  Am I bitter?  You're damn right I am.

Do I have a moan about my lack of self control over the things I put in my mouth, which are allowing my ample frame to ever increase? The chocolate, the alcohol, anything that might give me a moment of pleasure, anything that might make me feel something other than dead inside.

Do I tell you that Emily will be leaving the unit at the end of the month?  Should I explain how she will start to build up her return to school by adding 1 lesson extra each week, but on different days?  I understand why it is being done this way, but all I can think about is how I facilitate this and still get time to go to work.

Maybe I should tell you that the closer we get to her discharge, the more anxious Emily becomes and the more I worry.  Every time she leans on me I feel the weight is too much to bear.

Shall I explain how I want to shut myself away or that I crave sunshine on my face? I want to get drunk and dance, I want to set off on a journey, I want to do many things, none of them here.  I want to forget all this crap and give my open sores a chance to scab over before the next onslaught.

There is a big mental health campaign at the moment, "Time to talk"  What if you don't want to talk?

Keep talking

By the weekend things had improved.  The real story was that when Emily went to visit mainstream school, they were unprepared.  They asked her questions, understandably.  When was she coming back?  Was she coming back next week?? Half days, full days?? Emily felt under terrible pressure.  The Unit had, unfortunately, not really had a conversation with school and as a result, the visit went badly.

We talked things over while we sat and wrapped Christmas presents.  Emily has no real 'wants' this year.  In a way that's been nice.  I've gone out and been able to look for things that she might like.  As a result she is actually looking forward to Christmas, lunch at home with her family and surprises under the tree.  This is an achievement in itself.  Emily looking forward to anything.  We are not a religious family, but for us Christmas is a time when the family comes together and, amongst other things, share thoughtful gifts, gifts that show how much we care.

Last week we had another review meeting.  Very few people attended this time.  I made no attempt to hide my feelings.  It was me who had instigated reduced residential attendance to aid Emily's transition to day attender, the unit had not.  Not only this, but the school visits during the last six weeks had been a total of one, when there should have been several.  I expressed my 'disappointment', which was met with embarrassment.  There are so many good staff in this place, but co-ordination and communication continue to let us down.

I am hoping we are now back on track and things will happen.  Emily continues to have ups and downs.  Ups show me the old Emily, downs show me a frightened child shaking with fear.

And me?  I have taken the step of weighing myself.  I have put 2 stone on in 4 months.  I am ashamed. Still, I am also determined to do something,  My low mood, and attempts to cope with Emily, have lead to alcohol and comfort food.  I can not hate myself for trying to find a way to cope, to feel just a small amount better.  No, in contrast, what I can do is say 'enough!'.  I no longer fit in any of my clothes, the time has come to take action.  Gone is the junk food, 'in' is the low fat, low carb eating regime. (I will not say diet)  Small positive changes can make a big impact.  I hope I can keep it up.

Tonight Emily asked to talk to me,  she was upset, worrying about school.  We talked for a while, thinking of real things we could do, strategies we could put in place.  Emily's concerns are around more school visits.  I told her that it was no use looking at the past, we can only affect the future. We need to look at her concerns and work out what solutions may be available to potential problems.

My life is so up and down and so is Emily's, but while ever we can keep talking we have a chance.

Tired and unhappy

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror this evening.  The sallow skin, dark circles around the eyes, the down turned mouth, but worst of all were my eyes themselves. They are so full of sadness or maybe, dare I say it, hopelessness.  The two things that give me some respite are also the things that will be my undoing.  Food and alcohol.  My weight is increasing at an alarming rate and I can not spend an evening without a drink.  I am ashamed of myself, ashamed of what I have become.

Every time we have a set back, I ask myself how much longer I can carry on.  I even found my inner voice recently saying, 'get through Christmas and then you can go'. But I can't go, there are too many people who would be left behind and they would be hurting.  My Husband, my Son, my Mum and Dad, maybe even my Daughter, but at the moment I think she is so lost in herself, she wouldn't notice.

From days of seeing the old Emily starting to emerge, the slope has been very slippery indeed.  She has started to self harm again and she claims to have tried to hang herself in her bedroom last weekend. I say claims, because whilst she gave me a detailed account of her actions (while her grandparents were visiting) I heard no noises and there were no marks on her neck.  I hate myself for thinking she is lying, but I can not see that she is telling the truth.

Once again I find myself feeling like there is an alien in my house.  This is not my daughter. 

Today she finally had a first visit back to mainstream school.  She went with someone from the Unit and as it was a teacher training day, there were no children in school. The idea was a relaxed first visit to speak to the adults who would support her transition.

When I collected her this evening for her regular 'Wednesday night at home'  I was looking forward to hearing how school had gone.  I asked the question in the car.  I was told she had 'freaked out' and 'had to be taken back to the unit'.  I asked what could freak her out about a school with no children? Emily could not say.  I asked her, "So what happens next?"  Emily said she would try again and if she freaked out again that would be it, she wouldn't be going back to the school.

Whatever was left of my sanity now left me.  I couldn't stop myself from shouting out how she damn well would be going back, it was a fantastic school and I had fought to get her into it.  What on earth did she think were the alternatives??

When we arrived home, she went into the back room on her own, with Dvd's on the TV and her laptop for company.  I spent a couple of hours in my bedroom.  I noticed that my husband looked tired and unhappy and all I wanted to do was have a drink. To blot out the crap.

Emily and I have not really spoken since.  She asked for, and received, a hug before going to bed and said goodnight, but that is it.  I have nothing left to give.  Every bit of strength I had has left me. 

I am so tired and so unhappy.  I want to run away and leave all this behind, but there is a little boy who still loves me.  And yes, I know its likely my girl still loves me too, but right now, right at this very moment, it is incredibly difficult to love her back.

Damned if I do, damned if I don't

The small bottle of cheap brandy I bought stands half empty.  I haven't managed a night without some form of drink for weeks now.  It started gradually.  We had so many alcoholic gifts for our wedding, we slipped into a routine of drinking some in the evenings while we were on holiday from work.  Whilst my husband can take it or leave it, I fear I can not.  We share a bottle of wine, but the spirits are there for when I drink alone.

Emily is now up to full strength in her medication.  I hope and pray it is only a matter of a few weeks now, until we start to see some improvement. 

Today while I was at work, the father of my children came to see them.  It is Emily's Birthday tomorrow (or today, looking at the time) He has just returned from yet another childless holiday.  By the time I got home from work, he had left.  Unfortunately, he had also left a lasting impression on the children.  Emily had shown him the marks on her arms, in an attempt to make him understand the dark place she was in.  I'm told he just shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.  He never asks her how she is, he never asks me how she is.

He thinks this is my fault, that I have made her like this.  When I first tried to tell him that his daughter was self harming, he joked that she was taking after me.  What a jolly joke!  For the record I have never cut myself.  Apparently a suicide attempt is the same thing according to him, and yes at 17 I did give that one a go.  He makes no attempt to support Emily or me.  My son, 12, idolised his father, but he too is starting to see the lack of interest.  It hurts him to see that there seems to be no concern or compassion for his sister and a waining interest in him.

Emily said this evening, through her tears, "I've got enough in my head, I don't need him on top"  My son said "I'm just going to his house on Saturday to get my toys before he throws any more away"  He too, was crying.

It's ok for him, it is us who are left to pick up the pieces.  It is us who are trying to get Emily and my son through this terrible time and this incredibly tiring and long journey.  It is us, me and a man who has willingly and selflessly accepted these children as his own, who will see this through to the end.  We, with support from my elderly parents, will come out of the other side with these kids.

Do I sound bitter?  Well that would be because I am.  I am sick of trying to smooth over the cracks their father leaves behind.  I want to get him in a room and give it to him straight.  I want to stop being the mature adult who rises above all the frustrations and ignores his selfish behaviour.  But to ignore it means it will never change, and whilst I can try and ignore it, the children can not.  He is, and always will be, their father.  What am I supposed to do?  I will always be damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Do we all Self Harm??

I'd never really considered self harming.  When my daughter started hurting herself, it seemed like this was unfamiliar territory.  But is it? 

Emily has hit herself with books, her ruler or her hairbrush.  She's bitten her own arm and she is constantly fighting the strong desire to actually cut herself.

But really is she any different to me??  I must also admit, that when I think it through, I am also self harming.

I drink, not until I can't see, but definately above the recommended amount and until recently, this was pretty much every day.
I withdraw from groups of people. Until the end of last year I was running my own little business as an Artist.  Suddenly I just stopped.  I decided I was crap and the whole thing was a waste of time.  I withdraw from all artist circles, I removed all but the closest arty friends from facebook, I admitted defeat.  I wanted to hurt myself, I wanted to feel the misery and wallow in it.

I binge eat, despite knowing that the more I do it, the bigger I get and the more I will hate myself.

There are so many ways to self harm, but the reasons we do it will always stay the same.  We are looking for something that takes the pain away, even if that means simply replacing one with another.

Is it Thursday yet?

Just when I think we're managing, suddenly we aren't anymore.  Emily managed yesterday at school, although she felt out on a limb, friendless and unable to concentrate in lessons.

Last night she was shouting about the pain in her head.  But she didn't mean a headache.  She said there was so much crammed into her head it hurt and she couldn't cope.

This morning she sat on my bed crying telling me she couldn't go to school. I am so weary, its taking eveything I've got not to shout at her, "just go to bloody school!"  I am so frustrated.  Nothing I do makes a difference.  We're pinning everything on this appointment on Thursday, but what if they send us away?  What if we have to wait for more appointments before they do anything?  I'm not sure I'll be able to hold it together and I'm almost certain Emily won't.  It feels like school life is ruined now.  She's missing lessons, she has no real friends.  I'm begining to wonder if I should have left her at the old school and taken better action?  At least she had some friends there.

I managed Saturday and Sunday nights without a drink.  Tonight I've not had one either, but that is only because there is nothing in the house.

Fighting my Demons

I've had wine and moved on to neat rum this evening. I should have been going out with my work colleagues tonight, but I didn't.

I've over drunk and over eaten over such a prolonged period that my stomach is, not only huge, but now physically hurts.  This wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't getting married in a little over two months.  It's unlikely the dress will fit unless I really get my backside into some other gear.  At the moment any gear will be an improvement.

Today was my day off work. This morning I had to almost bully Emily into going to school.  We had the usual 'end of bed' conversation.  Her crying and me firmly stating that school was the best place.  And it is, but every day it gets harder to convince her.

After the school run I had to go to the wedding venue and sort out the arrangements, this is something that has been sadly neglected.  I threw a load of times and activities onto paper last night in the hope of making sense of them today.  I need to trade in my car and had a visit to the garage this afternoon to view the replacement.  In between times I was conscious that the boiler engineer was due, thanks to the combi freely dispensing water all over my utility room floor yesterday morning.

Good old Mum staying in my house to wait for Mr Boiler Man. Dad decided I needed some company to view the new car ( I don't, but its his way of offering me support)  They are both in their 70's and are worried sick about me and Emily.  What would we do without them?

The wedding planning went well, the boiler got fixed and the car was fab.  My spirits were definitely up.  Then Emily came home.  She needed me, she was crying.  As the evening wore on all the positive energy in me evaporated.  Replaced by tears.  I found myself almost resenting Emily.  It wasn't fair, I was actually excited about the car and the wedding and she'd slashed right through it all.  I couldn't look at her, my tears were resigned.

My partner has gone off to bed.  He was falling asleep on the sofa.  I was honest and asked him to go while I wrote this entry.  Today I'm ashamed of writing this.  I want to hide it.  I know Emily can't help the way she is and I do understand, really I do, and I love her.  But on days like today, that love and understanding is just not enough to stop me screaming on the inside