Post by genny on Sept 9, 2016 13:50:13 GMT
My daughter has been cutting. We knew she was depressed and she has been in therapy now since April when she came to us, feeling that she had become a danger to herself. Her PCP has been managing her Rx - we've been trying since May to get in with a well known and highly recommended psychiatrist here in town with no luck - no new patients and waiting for an opening.
But she'd been better, or so we thought. She'd even said to me 2 weeks ago she thought we could forego more therapy because she thought she was doing much better now. But I did not cancel her next appointment (which is this coming Monday), I wanted us to talk with the therapist first.
Anyway, I found her on the bathroom floor Sunday night, blood everywhere and a razor blade in her hand. A craft blade she'd found in her brothers room from one of his leather working projects. She was sobbing and incoherent and just in a really bad place. She begged me to help her stop. She said she wanted to die.
We admitted her to an adolescent psychiatric facility this week that specializes in depression and cutting. The psychiatrist that we were trying to hard to get in with is now assigned to her (as of yesterday- yay!) and he verbally accepted us (her) as a patient yesterday in a 45 minute phone call. I was thrilled when I answered the phone and he said who he was - I finally see light at the end of the tunnel.
I have questioned myself through this entire process. I don't understand depression, I don't understand cutting. I know it's a real disease, just like any other. I don't understand how a lot of things work, but that doesn't make them invalid because my limited mind can't comprehend. I questioned our decision to put her in this center, I am still questioning if it will even help or if it will be a massive waste of money (we are uninsured), her time and faith in us and doctors…all of it. I'm questioning everything. Will she hear the things that she's learning? Will she accept how very loved and worthy she truly is at some point in this? Can we make her brain stop telling her all these negative things about herself? How did I miss the signs before she told us? Could I have done something different? I'm just lost and numb and feel like I've just floated through these last few days. I cry at the drop of a hat. I miss her so much, even though I get to see her for an hour every night. Leaving her there every night is breaking my heart. But I did my best and I know I did. She has been loved big her whole life, I don't think anything I may have done differently would have changed a thing. Her brain is just wired this way, it's no one's fault, it just is what it is. And now we figure out how to manage it.
The psychiatrist has made some big changes to her meds (she was just on zoloft before). He explained why he was adding what he is, and reducing the zoloft. he spoke of side effects and his initial diagnosis (major depressive disorder, which I understand is basically clinical depression). Him calling me directly and not communicating through a nurse made me feel so much better. His talked about her future, and I have hope now.
I know a lot of Peas have been through this, either with their own kids or themselves. I know she's not a rare occurrence but I'm truly shocked at how prevalent this is, especially in teens, the more that I learn about it. It's heartbreaking.
If you made it this far, thanks. I know it's long, but I had to get it out. On one hand, I'm tired of talking about it to the people in my life who don't get it (and hard to explain when I don't fully comprehend). But on the other, I can't think of anything else and I'm pretty useless if I'm *not* talking about it or reading about it or trying in some way to get a grasp on what is happening.
But she'd been better, or so we thought. She'd even said to me 2 weeks ago she thought we could forego more therapy because she thought she was doing much better now. But I did not cancel her next appointment (which is this coming Monday), I wanted us to talk with the therapist first.
Anyway, I found her on the bathroom floor Sunday night, blood everywhere and a razor blade in her hand. A craft blade she'd found in her brothers room from one of his leather working projects. She was sobbing and incoherent and just in a really bad place. She begged me to help her stop. She said she wanted to die.
We admitted her to an adolescent psychiatric facility this week that specializes in depression and cutting. The psychiatrist that we were trying to hard to get in with is now assigned to her (as of yesterday- yay!) and he verbally accepted us (her) as a patient yesterday in a 45 minute phone call. I was thrilled when I answered the phone and he said who he was - I finally see light at the end of the tunnel.
I have questioned myself through this entire process. I don't understand depression, I don't understand cutting. I know it's a real disease, just like any other. I don't understand how a lot of things work, but that doesn't make them invalid because my limited mind can't comprehend. I questioned our decision to put her in this center, I am still questioning if it will even help or if it will be a massive waste of money (we are uninsured), her time and faith in us and doctors…all of it. I'm questioning everything. Will she hear the things that she's learning? Will she accept how very loved and worthy she truly is at some point in this? Can we make her brain stop telling her all these negative things about herself? How did I miss the signs before she told us? Could I have done something different? I'm just lost and numb and feel like I've just floated through these last few days. I cry at the drop of a hat. I miss her so much, even though I get to see her for an hour every night. Leaving her there every night is breaking my heart. But I did my best and I know I did. She has been loved big her whole life, I don't think anything I may have done differently would have changed a thing. Her brain is just wired this way, it's no one's fault, it just is what it is. And now we figure out how to manage it.
The psychiatrist has made some big changes to her meds (she was just on zoloft before). He explained why he was adding what he is, and reducing the zoloft. he spoke of side effects and his initial diagnosis (major depressive disorder, which I understand is basically clinical depression). Him calling me directly and not communicating through a nurse made me feel so much better. His talked about her future, and I have hope now.
I know a lot of Peas have been through this, either with their own kids or themselves. I know she's not a rare occurrence but I'm truly shocked at how prevalent this is, especially in teens, the more that I learn about it. It's heartbreaking.
If you made it this far, thanks. I know it's long, but I had to get it out. On one hand, I'm tired of talking about it to the people in my life who don't get it (and hard to explain when I don't fully comprehend). But on the other, I can't think of anything else and I'm pretty useless if I'm *not* talking about it or reading about it or trying in some way to get a grasp on what is happening.
