What’s it like to have a disabled child? I should know – Tim had severe learning disabilities and then pretty bad drug abuse problems, so bad he had to go to alternative schools for troubled youth. Except now he’s an adult and he’s … mentally ill. Last weekend he was in jail after hearing voices telling him some men on the beach were abusing their kid. (They punched him out, he went to the emergency room, refused to leave, and that’s why he got busted). He’s still hearing voices.
I know people with grown schizophrenic children, children who are unable to live on their own, and the parents manage a productive, happy life. I know this isn’t the end of the world. But when I told Richie that things were escalating he went into a dark slump of despair. And he refuses to have Tim in the house even as a temporary measure while we’re finding him some kind of intensive care. We have to go out there, we have to figure things out, and right now I’m overwhelmed.
Clinical depression is a funny thing (moi). Right now I’m weepy, upset, anxious, worried. But I’m not depressed. Maybe I will be after the crisis is over, but I don’t think so. The kind of depression I have seems pretty clinical, and I get through awful times (like the year my sister died and Richie had a heart attack) without falling into a dark hole.
Anyway, I’m spending the morning looking up mental health resources in California and here (though I don’t think we can bring him home unless we have a place for him to go into). And I might be a little distracted for a while. I’ve been enjoying myself, doing the Great Fabric Beatdown, which I’ll talk about later, and our new bathroom is almost done. My grandchildren are coming up the first of the month for a few days. Richie’s sister and her daughter and two babies are coming up the first of the month. I think that goes out the window this year, but I can fly down and visit with the grandkids later in the fall.
so. Put on my big girl panties (now slightly smaller since I’ve lost close to 20 pounds) and deal. Any advice would be much appreciated.
But tell me what’s going on with you. If it’s tough times I can commiserate, if it’s good times I can rejoice with you. Sometimes life is just hard.