It's been a little while since I've written out here, but many things have changed.
I finished up my practice teaching and finished the program and packed up the house. I was lucky enough to be accepted into all three Masters of Education programs that I applied to earlier in the year, and after a LOT of thinking, chose to return to my old hometown and accept at the local university.
The reason I decided this was because of Thing One's issues, and the difficulty that surrounded caring for his mental health and juggling Thing Two and a busy life. I figured that being closer to my family and friends would be helpful should he relapse, especially since it was so much stress while we all practically lived on the psych ward.
So, here we are. Spent Saturday loading a 26ft one way U-Haul and moved all of us back here. It's a lovely place here, we've got our own little piece of paradise in a cute 3 bedroom townhouse in an isolated area. Our front yard is literally a city owned park, with a play structure and winter ice rink. It's lovely - but I'm still struggling. I miss the big city and those people in the big city that I love. I've found myself (after the stressful whirlwind of the last year) plopped down here in a green lazy field with nothing to get me up in the morning, or knock me out at night. The kids have been loving the park and the new house and an early summer vacation. I'll adjust, I'm sure of that.
But now, I've got that cold peach pit of dread in my stomach. Sunday night Thing One had a panic attack after I slightly electrocuted myself on a table lamp. I'm seriously fine, it's just broken and there must be a wire touching inside because I plugged it in and zapped myself. I jumped a bit because it hurt, but the boy child suddenly started clutching his chest and sucking in loud breaths and turning a bit blue around the mouth. I had to shake him to get him to snap out of it and he cried off and on for almost an hour afterward.
Then today - sigh. Today Thing One played out in the park alone while Thing Two watched tv. He came running in frightened, saying he felt someone was watching him and he saw a shadow man by the garbage bin. I can see the whole park from my front window, and there is no one there. A little later he headed upstairs to the bathroom and came down upset because he heard voices whispering in Thing Two's room. Thing Two was downstairs on the couch with me.
He cried and doesn't know why "these things are acting up", and saying that he "doesn't know if its real or not"... this feels an awful lot like the beginnings of what we experienced when he was in crises.
I am afraid, and we don't yet have a child psychiatrist here. What do I do...