Groping through the fog

Dealing with child mental illness isn't easy. You cannot see it, measure its advances or prepare for attack. It's insidious, growing like cancer in the recesses of the mind and I hate it.

I keep hearing that the three most important things a mother does is keep their children happy, healthy and safe. I can do NONE of these things. Superficially I can alter their environment to promote these ideals, but when the "badness" is in his brain my hands are tied. More than that, Thing Two suffers as she continues to be his punching bag, his victim, his enemy. He is the problem AND the victim and I don't know how to make her world safe again either.

The Seroquel had been working to at least sedate him. He had been sleeping through the night without incident the first week and most of last. But its effects are slowly wearing off. Last night I found him asleep in the living room once again, awoken and frightened by "the man". I worry that he doesn't get enough rest from the torment of his demons. I worry more that he wanders while we sleep.

This weekend, Thing One threatened to kill myself and my daughter. He was raging, out of control and screamed "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!! I PROMISE YOU!!". After he calmed down, I spoke to him about that comment. He admitted that he considers killing myself and Thing Two "sometimes, but not everyday". He says the voices tell him to do it while I'm sleeping, but he's afraid I might wake up. It's chilling. Then, he burst into tears and ran from me. I grabbed him, gathered him in my arms while he sobbed that he didn't want to think those bad thoughts and he just wanted to be normal. He worries that his sick brain will never get better.

I can offer nothing to assuage him.

Last night, after one of the biggest meltdowns I've seen with him to date, he went for a walk with my dad and Thing Two. They came across some dandelion puffs and made wishes on the wind. Thing Two wishes fervently that Thing One's brain would not be sick anymore. They cried for each other. I died a little inside.

I feel like I'm sailing on the seeds of those wishes, bending to the wind and the whims of an unkind fate.


DAG