Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Feb 12

I forgot to write last night, as I was so tired. I'm not used to getting up in the night with my boys anymore.
So Sunday night/early Monday morning had L screaming in pain. Literally. It was his ears. At about 7 DH took him to the ER to get checked out. I have to admit that I was very worried, and not about his diagnosis,because L has always had problems with his ears. But I was very worried that he was screaming when he really wasn't in THAT much pain. I was afraid that they'd come back home and DH would tell me the doc said that there wasn't much redness in there or something. I was very worried that it would all turn out to be in his head.
Thankfully (I guess in a weird sort of way) it wasn't. His screaming was actually warranted. Not that I'm happy about this, but he actually had a double ear infection, with one eardrum perforated, the other about to be. Yikes. So he spent most of Monday sleeping. He was very tired and worn out poor guy.
So today is another story. I don't want him to miss so much school, as its becoming ever harder for him to go back. But he was still in pain this morning, and worried that I'd get a call during the day to pick him up, I kept him home. I did go in to the school in the morning, had a quick chat with his teacher and picked up a bit of homework. But I fear every day spent home is another step deeper into his anxiety cesspool (for lack of a better term).
He worried Sunday night (before the ear pain hit) about going back to school the next day. He has this idea that everyone at school hates him. His mind has created this idea, and everyday away from school it gets worse, I think, because he's not seeing proof otherwise. It's very real to him, and I can't contradict him. I wish he would believe me when I say it's just not true, but why would he? His mind tells him it's real, and I'm not there during the day, so how would I know? I can only imagine how scary it must feel to know you have to go to a place for the day where you believe you are hated. The thought makes me sick.
This morning he was fine with the fact that I told him we would be doing work. He understood the necessity. But once I told him it was time to get down to business it started with A) a bit of a tantrum (as in, refusal, saying no, crossing his arms, stating he didn't want to) then moved on to B) the anger stage. He stated again, he hates his life, he has a terrible life, no one cares about him, he hates his family (yeah, that hurt a little but I'm trying not to take it to heart) and everyone hates him at school. When I questioned why he hated us, he said we're mean to him. I asked how he felt we were mean, and after some prompting, he said we call him names. I was surprised, as I try my best to NEVER call him any sort of name now, not even "silly", like I might say to the other kids ("You're so silly!") He is just too sensitive, and I thought that DH was aware of this too, I know he is. R, on the other hand, not so much. They tease each other as brothers do, but most brothers don't have one of the parties holding a grudge against the other for YEARS!! L holds onto things forever. If you ever think he isn't listening, he is, and he'll remember what you said long past when you will.
So he wouldn't tell me what we said. He kept saying that I should figure it out for myself. I told him I couldn't, I can't read his mind, and if I knew, I wouldn't be asking. I told him to write it down if he didn't want to say, so he did. It said "idiot, dumb, bad sport,spoiled brat (yes,I may have been guilty of that one, but honestly, not within the past two years!) sore loser and loser." I'm pretty sure no one has called him a loser here, but I guess maybe someone, meaning R, may have a LONG time ago. That's a big no-no, but it's in the past now.
We had another lengthy discussion. More of me telling him about forgiveness, about how we love him so much, and care for him and how I would give anything in this world to see him feel happy again, to see him have joy for life.
Eventually, he started on his homework, but in a sour mood, in his "shut-down" mode, which basically means he glares at me like I'm the anti-Christ and stops speaking. I went back to the neglected children downstairs, and came back to him about 20 minutes later. He had written basically nothing. He was wandering around the main floor level. He said to me he was stupid, because he hadn't done anything. I didn't refute the stupid comment, because I've learned that it does nothing. I ignored it. I don't know if that's the right thing to do, because I hope he doesn't take my non-opposition to his comments as acceptance and therefore confirmation of these negative thoughts.
Anyhow,instead I suggested that he bring the homework downstairs so we could sit on the couch together and work on it. I said I'd keep him on track, and I couldn't stay upstairs with him. I'd ignored the babies enough for one day.
Eventually, he came down to me, and it was the flipped switch again. He was nicer, happier and more receptive to my help.
The rest of the day went by ok. I got him to do his math without too much trouble,even though he was in his room "inventing". He came to school with me and went home from there with his BFF, who is finally back from Florida.
The evening was strange. I'm starting to think he's manic almost. He was happy, and listening, and even went to bed without tears. He was laughing and joking with DH. Of course, we did tell him that he was going to school late, as a counsellor from the local children's mental health place is coming to our house in the morning to talk with him. Not sure if its the fact that he gets ANOTHER morning off, or if its the fact that someone is coming to talk to him. Is enough to make you think, "Oh, he's ok now," but of course I know it will be short-lived. It's a relief for the evening, but at the same time, I'm just sitting here wondering when the next "episode" will be. It's so stressful.

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