Where Life's Entropy Has Stalled Me...

...Limbo.

Can't find words for what's going on? Maybe just one will do! Come play along at Jenn's place!

I don't want to talk about it...

As part of the diagnostic process for DD1, we are making the rounds of the various "experts". So far, not counting the school doctor and the family doctor, I have seen 5 different specialists. And we are not through yet. Some of them meet with DD1 by herself, some with DD1 and myself, some with just me or DH, and some with all 3 of us.

And while they all have their own specialization and different items to focus on, and we have now filled out 3 different ratings questionnaires, for the most part they all have the same general kinds of questions. These cover not only DD1's problems, behaviour, childhood, friends, social life, etc., but also babyhood, pregnancy, health and..., and ..., and.... And then of course you get into my biography. And DH's biography. And family medical history.

Invariably, at some point in these conversations, there will be something asked that brings me to tears. It's not that hard these days I admit, with everything we have going on. But still, I wonder if all these folks are putting together a picture of our family that says "Poor kid. Dad is pretty calm but Mom is an emotional wreck. No wonder she is so messed up."

As the "primary caregiver", I am the one who has most of these appointments, even though DD1 has the problem. At least that's what I think. She, of course, has a different point of view and thinks that I am the one with the problem and she should be left alone. The thing is, since I am the one doing most of the talking with these folks, I am starting to doubt my own sanity...

Generally I am pretty talkative. I usually have something to say. (You may have noticed this if I have posted comments on your blog!) But all of a sudden I am all talked out. I feel like I have brought every skeleton in my and my family's closet out in the light. By now these people know most of our deep dark secrets, even ones we had almost forgotten.

And unlike on my blog, there is no anonymity. I sit in front of them and answer their questions and tell the tales of incidents I have tried to erase from memory and put behind me. And now my everyday reality is filled with confronting and thinking about things that I would rather not.

And this is not a healing process. They take their notes, hand me a tissue and go on with their questions. There are no hugs. No kind words of support. No sympathies and similar stories exchanged. No one to tell me it will be alright. So far they have not been judgmental. But of course I look back on my parenting mistakes and my offspring's meltdowns and feel despair and shame and defeat.

Some friends have advised that I get some sort of medical intervention for myself. But I am afraid that if I go down that road before we've gotten the solution for my beloved daughter, then I will be too tempted to not come back to reality. My reality is not pleasant. There are some days when it is hardly bearable. I long for my pillow and covers and an alternate reality.

So if I am only lurking these days, please forgive me. I do read on occasion and cry and laugh and enjoy my blogging world. But if I'm not commenting or blogging then please know, for the momment, I have nothing left give.

I've not talked about it here because right now, I don't want to talk anymore.