Things are not going well.
I talked to the hospital and his doctor and the plan was in motion until he woke up and said he refuses to go. He begged me to wait until Monday and see if he was "better". That would be funny if it weren't so sad. So as of right now we will go to Dr. H at 2 pm as planned and take it from there. I don't want to call the cops to get him to the hospital...I don't think I can stand seeing that happen again. I've done it before and I will again if I have to. I feel sick and numb at the same time.
In the meantime his Probation Officer showed up here unexpectedly! She was here to check his meds. She didn't seem to notice that he had been high last night, and I didn't tell her. She'll test him Monday. If she would have brought a drug test he'd be on his way to jail right now. Jail is not the solution for him.
I guess today it's "one minute at a time". I don't know what to do with myself. I feel very helpless, afraid and confused.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hello dear blog family....I'm very tired. Up most of the night. Will spare you the details and give you the facts:
- he smoked heroin yesterday
- he said it was either that or suicide
- I said, then you need to be hospitalized
- he said "okay"
He didn't want to go right then, and I didn't push it, but of course my concern is that he will change his mind.
First we are going to his last psychiatrist appointment. He had planned to go alone, but I am not leaving his side for one second today. I will let him talk privately but I want to let Dr. H know our plans and hopefully he will agree. I am surprised he hasn't suggested it before.
My fear is, nothing will help him. This will be the pattern for his life. Six months of meds have not helped so far, and then he had to open the door to heroin again!!! So now he's fighting that demon and the ones that he sees. PLEASE LET THERE BE A COMPETENT DOCTOR EVALUATING HIM AND HELPING HIM!
I know its silly to worry about money at a time like this, but its a constant stress for me and there are still over $1,000 of bills from last time he went in. They are in his name but I signed the "responsible party" agreement so eventually all this will catch up to me. Thank God his dad has insurance for him because I don't even have any for myself. I will "let it go" and deal with it later.
Peace, Hope and Love, Barbara
Showing posts with label Suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suicide. Show all posts
June 11, 2010
December 29, 2009
A Year Ago Today (part two)
(please excuse all the typos in this post!!! i am leaving them to remind myself what matters in life and what's trivial. typos are trivial.)
Before I recount what happened last year, I want to point out the positive things I am grateful for that have come about in the last 365 days:
- My son has 129 days clean, he wants recovery, he wants to be well. Last year at this time he didn't.
- My son is in the same hospital that he's was in last year, but this time he was admitted voluntarily because he knows he needs help. Last year he arrived in a straight jacket via ambuulance from another hospital.
- I have grown and learned a lot. Last year I was still so naive, just coming out of denial and didn't have the support I've found through the community of bloggers I know today.
December 29, 2008.
I was feeling very happy because I had just put the finishing strokes on my first ever attempt at painting (see below). I heard my son walk out of the bathroom and announce to his girlfriend that he had just taken 24 Trazadone and ???? (not sure what else, it was an unfamilar drug to me). In the next moments of chaos I had called 911 and K bolted out the house running, his girlfriend trying to catch up to him.
I ran also with 911 on the phone with me. K headed to the nearby park and within minutes the police helicopter was hovering, shining its bright light to try and locate my scared son.
Then K came running past me down the hill and at the same time the cops arrived in a patrol car. Its hard to say how much time had passed - ten minutes? 20? I honestly have no clue it was so surreal.
But because the drugs were starting to take affect K slowed down and the cop and I managed to reach him at the same time on the corner of our street. His vital signs were taken, the cop was super nice (knowing it was a suicide attempt) and assured K he was not in trouble, he just wanted him to sit in the car till the EMTs arrived.
They pulled up and lots of questions were asked and answered. K was no longer to stand up on his own so they put him on a gurney, turned on the sirens and headed for the ER. The police talked to me for awhile and told me it would be best to wait an hour before going to visit him.
When we got there we had to wait another hour. It was my sister, me, his gf, and his three best male friends (non-drug users, still safe and wonderful friends to this day and hopefully forever).
Finally they allowed me to see him. He was in and our of consciousness. He had charcoal smeared around his mouth. He was pale and clammy. My sis and I sat with him for over an hour, stroking his arms, his hair, telling him it would be okay...
At one point he opened his eyes and looked at me and said "Mom, is this real?" It broke my heart. He was a little boy in a bad dream, but it wasn't a dream and he had created the nightmare himself.
Turns out he'd been "snowballing" all day (shooting coke to go up, heroin to go down). He came home and wanted to die. He felt like a failure, like he'd never be able to stop using. Like he'd be better off dead. Yet, he also admits it was a cry for help since he told us what he did immediately (thank GOD!).
The next morning I went back to visit him and stayed by his side for hours as a guard sat at the end of his bed on "suicide watch". He was more coherent but still in and out sleep most of the day. The nurse (big male nurse) and I tried to get him to stand up to give a urine sample, but he was like a rag doll. He was still so out of it. It was determined that he needed to be in a psychiatric ward in another city, so they strapped him up in a straight jacket, loaded him on a gurney and off he went for a "5150" (72 lock down to evaluate him).
The love I had for my son that day - seeing the confused, scared look on his face as they took him away...he'd just turned 18 two weeks prior. He was just a kid! Off he went.
It was not the worst moment in this "adventure" of drug addiction, but its up there in the top ten :)
He was allowed to come home on New Year's Eve. It was a fresh start, a new year. He started going to meetings and it yet in my heart I knew it was only the beginning. I just knew it.
Part Three of this story will be told on January 6th. As most of you know, it ususally gets much worse before it gets better.
This is the painting I drew that night, and the painting I drew a few days later. I haven't felt like picking up a brush again, but maybe one of these days:
Peace, Hope and Love,
Barbara
Before I recount what happened last year, I want to point out the positive things I am grateful for that have come about in the last 365 days:
- My son has 129 days clean, he wants recovery, he wants to be well. Last year at this time he didn't.
- My son is in the same hospital that he's was in last year, but this time he was admitted voluntarily because he knows he needs help. Last year he arrived in a straight jacket via ambuulance from another hospital.
- I have grown and learned a lot. Last year I was still so naive, just coming out of denial and didn't have the support I've found through the community of bloggers I know today.
December 29, 2008.
I was feeling very happy because I had just put the finishing strokes on my first ever attempt at painting (see below). I heard my son walk out of the bathroom and announce to his girlfriend that he had just taken 24 Trazadone and ???? (not sure what else, it was an unfamilar drug to me). In the next moments of chaos I had called 911 and K bolted out the house running, his girlfriend trying to catch up to him.
I ran also with 911 on the phone with me. K headed to the nearby park and within minutes the police helicopter was hovering, shining its bright light to try and locate my scared son.
Then K came running past me down the hill and at the same time the cops arrived in a patrol car. Its hard to say how much time had passed - ten minutes? 20? I honestly have no clue it was so surreal.
But because the drugs were starting to take affect K slowed down and the cop and I managed to reach him at the same time on the corner of our street. His vital signs were taken, the cop was super nice (knowing it was a suicide attempt) and assured K he was not in trouble, he just wanted him to sit in the car till the EMTs arrived.
They pulled up and lots of questions were asked and answered. K was no longer to stand up on his own so they put him on a gurney, turned on the sirens and headed for the ER. The police talked to me for awhile and told me it would be best to wait an hour before going to visit him.
When we got there we had to wait another hour. It was my sister, me, his gf, and his three best male friends (non-drug users, still safe and wonderful friends to this day and hopefully forever).
Finally they allowed me to see him. He was in and our of consciousness. He had charcoal smeared around his mouth. He was pale and clammy. My sis and I sat with him for over an hour, stroking his arms, his hair, telling him it would be okay...
At one point he opened his eyes and looked at me and said "Mom, is this real?" It broke my heart. He was a little boy in a bad dream, but it wasn't a dream and he had created the nightmare himself.
Turns out he'd been "snowballing" all day (shooting coke to go up, heroin to go down). He came home and wanted to die. He felt like a failure, like he'd never be able to stop using. Like he'd be better off dead. Yet, he also admits it was a cry for help since he told us what he did immediately (thank GOD!).
The next morning I went back to visit him and stayed by his side for hours as a guard sat at the end of his bed on "suicide watch". He was more coherent but still in and out sleep most of the day. The nurse (big male nurse) and I tried to get him to stand up to give a urine sample, but he was like a rag doll. He was still so out of it. It was determined that he needed to be in a psychiatric ward in another city, so they strapped him up in a straight jacket, loaded him on a gurney and off he went for a "5150" (72 lock down to evaluate him).
The love I had for my son that day - seeing the confused, scared look on his face as they took him away...he'd just turned 18 two weeks prior. He was just a kid! Off he went.
It was not the worst moment in this "adventure" of drug addiction, but its up there in the top ten :)
He was allowed to come home on New Year's Eve. It was a fresh start, a new year. He started going to meetings and it yet in my heart I knew it was only the beginning. I just knew it.
Part Three of this story will be told on January 6th. As most of you know, it ususally gets much worse before it gets better.
This is the painting I drew that night, and the painting I drew a few days later. I haven't felt like picking up a brush again, but maybe one of these days:
Peace, Hope and Love,
Barbara
December 28, 2009
Deja Vu - Sort of
I don't have the energy to say too much at the moment so I'll keep it short.
He's back in the hospital, which is where he was a year ago on 12/29/08.
I want him to get on the right meds in the right doses.
PH is going to discharge him but HOPEFULLY they have a bed open for him in a few days when he gets out.
He's back in the hospital, which is where he was a year ago on 12/29/08.
I want him to get on the right meds in the right doses.
PH is going to discharge him but HOPEFULLY they have a bed open for him in a few days when he gets out.
December 7, 2009
Unhappy Birthday
UPDATE:
Several hours have passed since I wrote the below post. Since that time I've cried, read my comments and read an email from my best friend, she knows me and Keven really well (thank you S!) Then I heard two songs in a row that made me think of K and of me (the one for me was Aretha's "Respect"!)
I've decided that the only gift I can give my son this year is the gift of taking care of myself. The gift of not putting up with him treating me this way. The gift of not enabling him or interfering with his recovery. His life is his. I can't change the past or the future, I can only take care of me and be present right NOW.
I don't know what I would do without all of you who read here (and my other blogs). I wrote about my "giving birth" experience on WFIO today just cause I felt like it.
Well so much for that.
K seemed happy to see us but within 20 minutes was sullen then got mean and his departing words are to unkind and frightening to share here.
I hope he was partly putting on an act and is not as seriously depressed and full of anger as he seems. Its so hard to tell with him. He hinted to his PO that he was suicidal but when asked point blank he says he's not.
I don't want to lose my son.
I feel really sick, like I could throw up. I don't know how to deal with this anymore. I am sinking.
(Dad, you were right).
Peace, Hope and Love,
Barbara
September 15, 2009
Things That Happen at the Hair Salon
I've been having the same wonderful woman doing my hair forever (16 years?) and I know lots of her clients. Today I was there and saw a woman that I have always admired from afar and watched with awe. This woman is so beautiful (on the outside and the inside). She appeared to have an ideal life with a loving husband, two sons. We went to church together for years. I didn't know her well but when K started talking about suicide at age 11 my pastor got me in contact with "T".
I had no idea that "T's" son suffered from depression and on and again off again suicide talk or attempts. "T" and I shared a few emails. It seemed that her son, a teen at the time, was getting better so I was shocked to hear that he followed through and took his own life.
HOW
DOES
A
PARENT
SURVIVE
SUCH
HEARTACHE?
Its been quite a few years since it happened. I actually got to know "T" a little better since then but never mentioned her son to her. I always wanted to. I have a million questions. But she is a quiet person and and I just don't know her all that well.
Today we were both having our hair done and I noticed her son's name tattooed on her ankle. I have K's name on my ankle too. I don't know what the point of his post is, but seeing her made my heart ache and fill with fear.
At the moment I am literally surrounded by piles of paperwork from the last 8 years trying to find "evidence" that K's depression/anxiety has been "chronic and persistent". Ugh. I don't have too much to prove that but I am trying.
I hope all of you are doing well. I can't wait to kick back in my recliner later and READ YOUR BLOGS.
I had no idea that "T's" son suffered from depression and on and again off again suicide talk or attempts. "T" and I shared a few emails. It seemed that her son, a teen at the time, was getting better so I was shocked to hear that he followed through and took his own life.
HOW
DOES
A
PARENT
SURVIVE
SUCH
HEARTACHE?
Its been quite a few years since it happened. I actually got to know "T" a little better since then but never mentioned her son to her. I always wanted to. I have a million questions. But she is a quiet person and and I just don't know her all that well.
Today we were both having our hair done and I noticed her son's name tattooed on her ankle. I have K's name on my ankle too. I don't know what the point of his post is, but seeing her made my heart ache and fill with fear.
At the moment I am literally surrounded by piles of paperwork from the last 8 years trying to find "evidence" that K's depression/anxiety has been "chronic and persistent". Ugh. I don't have too much to prove that but I am trying.
I hope all of you are doing well. I can't wait to kick back in my recliner later and READ YOUR BLOGS.
OH MY GOSH! THIS IS SO FLIPPIN WILD, CHECK THIS OUT!
Ok, I am crying. This is just too "coincidental". You know how I just told you about "T" and her son? You know how I am surrounded by piles of papers digging through to find medical stuff on K? Well, after hitting publish on this post I picked up a piece of paper and unfolded it. It was a poem written by her son and included in his memorial.
I can't stop crying looking at his face. I didnt' go to the memorial. I didn't even know I had this piece of paper, its a photocopy. I must have asked someone if I could take a copy of it. I don't know if I should share the poem here or not, I should probably respect their privacy but somehow I think "T" would say it would be okay, I may ask her.
Oh my God....Dear Jesus - why? Why do you let people "end their pain" instead of taking it away? How can you take this family through such agony? This is why I walked away from God for a year....I was (and still am) so pissed off at how much pain is in this life. I believe again, I guess. I don't even know sometimes. I am tired of the simple answers "his ways are beyond ours". This boy was 17 years old. 17. With loving parents and brother, and friends and a bright future (with proper medical care for depression). He could not bear life. I am going to ask "T" if I can post his poem here. It says so much.
Wow. I am just blown away that out of hundreds of pieces of paper here on my bed I picked that one up....
September 13, 2009
Bad Jail Visit
Today I decided to surprise him since no one else was going to visit him. Bad idea. That ear to ear grin from last time was MIA and the first words out of his mouth were "will you please stop sending me letters that say the same thing over and over, I get it, okay?"
I was hurt, he saw the hurt and then was upset that I was upset. I'll spare you the details but most of the conversation was all about him, his needs, his wants. I don't think he's ready. I fear that he's going to get out and use again. Don't they usually?
What will it take? I don't know. I just feel hurt, angry and very tired from lack of sleep last night. I slept from 7:30 am - 9:45 am. No kidding, that was it. I tossed and turned from 2-3, got up till 4, tossed and turned till 5 got up till 7 and finally fell asleep. I don't think Ambien works on me anymore :(
Also - I am very worried about Ant. I mentioned to K what he said to me on the phone the other night and K said "I hope he's not thinking of offing himself, he talks about it sometimes". Holy Father God - WHY? Why is there so much pain in the lives of these young people????
On the other hand, I talked about offing myself throughout my entire life....it comes from a sense of deep despair and hopelessness that feels like it will never end. But it does if you wait it out. I guess some of us are just wired to be depressed. If I could do one thing with the rest of my life it would be to reach out to these hurting young people.
I was hurt, he saw the hurt and then was upset that I was upset. I'll spare you the details but most of the conversation was all about him, his needs, his wants. I don't think he's ready. I fear that he's going to get out and use again. Don't they usually?
What will it take? I don't know. I just feel hurt, angry and very tired from lack of sleep last night. I slept from 7:30 am - 9:45 am. No kidding, that was it. I tossed and turned from 2-3, got up till 4, tossed and turned till 5 got up till 7 and finally fell asleep. I don't think Ambien works on me anymore :(
Also - I am very worried about Ant. I mentioned to K what he said to me on the phone the other night and K said "I hope he's not thinking of offing himself, he talks about it sometimes". Holy Father God - WHY? Why is there so much pain in the lives of these young people????
On the other hand, I talked about offing myself throughout my entire life....it comes from a sense of deep despair and hopelessness that feels like it will never end. But it does if you wait it out. I guess some of us are just wired to be depressed. If I could do one thing with the rest of my life it would be to reach out to these hurting young people.
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