Obsessive Behavior

Son is not much improved.  It’s terrible to bring your mentally ill family member to a hospital ER.  It is not set up to handle the kind of obsession, frustration, and anger.   When Son is in this state, he does not fully comprehend what is going on.  The longer the wait the more manic and frustrated he becomes.  There are a few Urgent Care centers for mentally ill, but they are not open 24 hou.rs a day.  When Son gets like this there is no where else to turn but to the ER.

It was all I could do to keep him in the ER long enough to be seen by a doctor.  Twice he’d run outside and missed a bed.  By 3:30 Tuesday morning I had to call 911 to get the cops to corral him and keep him inside the ER.  He was extremely agitated, belligerent, and combative.  Pacing wildly, and screaming at people in gibberish.  All in all a very pleasant Tuesday morning, especially after Son locked my keys in the car and I couldn’t rouse Husband to rescue me.  I ended up walking home at 4 AM.  Luckily it wasn’t a long or unpleasant walk.

Mental illness or alcohol?  Both probably.  We just don’t know.  I was going to call to make sure they kept him 72 hours, and ask them to keep him another 2 weeks, but never had the chance.  Son called first thing in the morning begging me to pick him up.  Sounded so contrite, talking in a small voice.  Nothing I’d ever heard before.  He admitted he’d been drinking, that he has a problem.  He said he’d go to meetings and all the group stuff, and everything, if I would just bring him home.  I said I wasn’t picking him up until I talked to a doc.  That happened in less than an hour.  The doc did not feel son was danger to himself or others, and despite reiterating the diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, practically threw him out.

So angry!  We had hoped the hospital would keep him at least the 72 hours.  Give us a little time to find a sober living or halfway house for him and dismantle his business.  We did clean his room, picking up dirty laundry, general straightening, hoping if it was tidy he would not come home and obsess about his business.  Stupid me, for thinking it was a nice thing to do, but he was angry and belligerent about our help.  Apparently, we ‘threw everything’ away.  I handed him the trash can and invited him to go through what we tossed out.  He said something about how he feel’s he’s lost his mom, and that I don’t care or I wouldn’t treat him like this.  He doesn’t believe me when I try to counter that claim.

He is unable to comprehend my behavior and attitude toward him, and I don’t know why.  I’m here, available, and speaking to him, yet he thinks I sound angry.  He still angry, argumentative, and just plain wrong!  He believes I am angry with him, though I have tried to explain I am angry at the obsession.  I don’t hate him, I hate the addict in him.  To him that said I don’t love him, and am not willing to help him.  He feels I don’t care that he has a mental illness.  I told him it was a diagnosis, not an excuse.  You can imagine how that went over.

He has needed round the clock watching since coming home.  He is obsessing over these damn accounts.  Important stuff, sure, but he won’t write down his passwords, and he screws up his accounts every time he has an episode like this.  He has called help lines, tried a dozen different passwords and now wants my help!  How can I do anything with his accounts if he has gotten locked out?  I explained there is nothing I can do for him without his passwords.  So now I’m a shitty mom for ‘not supporting’ him, to hear him tell it.

And he’s not able to use his iPad since he somehow ruined the plug in and can no longer plug it to a charging cord.   He has a big expensive gaming computer that he barely knows how to operate, but he can’t obsess about learning how to move around on that.  Instead, he is using his dad’s iPad to sign into his accounts.  He keeps asking for his dad’s passwords.  When I asked why, he said he needed them to get into his email.  I don’t know what he is thinking.

He is putting words in my mouth, twisting what I say, and in general is just being a big dick.  He can’t seem to understand anything that is said to him, as it does nothing to change his behavior.  He is practically inconsolable in thinking I hate him and that hurts more than he could ever know.  Nothing I say comforts him or reassures him.  I don’t know what else to do.

He is driving me absolutely mad!  Where is the ‘throwing up your hands in surrender’ emoji?

Well, I’m Pretty Sure it’s Not Schizophrenia

Just simple alcoholism.

jackI confronted son about the bottles of alcohol and he totally had me believing he didn’t know he’d bought them.  Put on a great act about how angry he was with himself about losing his sobriety after 8 years.  He even made a show out of throwing the bottles in the trash.  I told him I was proud of him for tossing the bottles out.  Why I didn’t toss them myself and dump them out first I’ll never understand.

How could I have been so stupid not to see through these lies.  I guess I really wanted to believe he hadn’t taken up drinking again.  That somehow drug addiction wouldn’t be so bad.  But addiction is addiction no matter the substance.  And my son is an addict and will always be one.  I just hope to be able to say he’s a recovering addict.

Things went along relatively smoothly in the afternoon, and I believed he was sober.  Until a few hours later when he began to talk gibberish again.  I hoped he was still sobering up.

He woke us about midnight wanting to turn on our bedroom light because the dog was coughing.  He said he needed a bowl because he thought the dog was going to vomit.  I asked him why he wanted a bowl from our bedroom and he just repeated that he thought the dog was sick.  I asked him why he didn’t just put the dog outside, and that just seemed to confuse him.

A quiet confrontation began and I demanded his stash and started to go through his dresser right in front of him.  All he kept saying is “What the fuck?” Husband demanded he leave the house and after some back and forth, he finally got dressed and left.  We heard him drive off and then sat around waiting for him to come home or the cops to call.  Turns out he didn’t even make it very far from our house.  He came stumbling back saying his car had stopped just up the road.  Then he took a shower and after that ranted a bit more.  A short while later he made coffee.  (Spilling it all over the floor I noticed this morning.)  He was in and out of the house all night.  Getting dressed and undressed, slamming doors and muttering until he finally fell asleep on the living room couch.pills

That takes us to this morning when he wakes me up wanting to know where his dad put his car.  I told him he drove off in it and left it somewhere.  Then he said his dad sabotaged his car and (of all things) his Facebook page.  I can’t imagine what is going on with his car, I haven’t been out looking for it yet.  As for his FB page, I imagine he’d been posting all sorts of incoherent rants and got himself taken off by the powers that be.

I feel like shit today in many ways.  I’m running on about 5 hours sleep.  My ms pain is acting up big time and in new uncomfortable places.  One positive; I’ve been trying to taper off Abilify, and am surprised this hasn’t sent me scurrying for the medicine cabinet.  I have done pretty good at not beating myself up too much, but I can’t believe I still believe his lies.  I was always able to read a lie from a mile off–from anyone but my son, I guess.

Got to take the dogs for a walk and get some air, then probably go back to bed.  Hope my day improves.

Thank you all for your support during this latest crisis in what has become my life.

He’s asleep again and hopefully will only be hung over when he gets up.

Don’t Even Know What to Say

Son remains off the wagon today, despite my and husband’s attempts to reason with him.  We’ve planned on getting him set up with his own place when we move, but with the understanding that he remain clean and sober.  Thought I got through to him yesterday.  I’m not sure if he’s still on whatever shit he’s been taking, or this is residual or schizophrenia.  I thought I was handling things well, but today I question everything I’ve said and done in the last two weeks.  I am beside myself with grief and self recriminations today.  I can’t figure out what uppers he’s taking, or where he’s hiding them. I don’t want to have to kick him out!  I don’t want to have a big raging argument!  I don’t want him to lie to us anymore.  I don’t want to remain ignorant and blind to his self-destructive behavior.

Our conversations today have gone like this:

Son:  “I almost yelled at one of the students when picking up son.”

Me:  “Really, why?”

Son: utter silence as if I’d not said anything.

later he told me:

“The kids are dressing up on the computer.”

When I explained that statement needed some elaboration, I got no response.

Still later, he was watching Cosmos.  They were discussing DNA and genetic codes.

Son:  “You know that drink they had the women drink?  You know what I mean?  That drink.”

Me:  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Son:  silence.

Is he still taking something or has he done brain damage to himself?  The last two days he’s cleaned the house top to bottom, then was falling asleep (passing out?) at the dinner table.

I’m frightened, angry, and heart-broken.  I’m having a tough time today and blame myself for all of it.  I was good yesterday, telling myself that he will face the consequences of his actions by being arrested for DUI, but somehow he was able to get about town.  Today too.

When I first got home from the shelter today he seemed back to almost his normal self, then he took this dramatic down turn and started speaking in incomplete and incoherent snippets.  Perhaps he took something after I got home.  Probably.

I just went through his drawers and found two bottles of alcohol.  That doesn’t explain all of it, but certainly part of it.  I’ve placed the bottles on the table and now am waiting for him to come out of the shower.  I don’t know what I’ll say, or how he’ll react.

All because he had words with his uncle?  Of all the people who shouldn’t take up that much space in his head, it’s his uncle.  I hate that he’s drinking again, and afraid he’s still doing something else.  Because the alcohol doesn’t explain the manic cleaning binge he’s been on the last three days.

He’s coming out of the bathroom now.  I wonder how it will go?

 

Happy Friday

Happy Friday all.

It’s been a long hot week and I can’t remember the last time I was so ready for the summer to end.  It’s been near 100 degrees most of the week, even with the a/c on, I’m uncomfortable.  In fact, I haven’t been this uncomfortable since I left Arizona!  I don’t want to go out until the sun goes down, but I’ve got errands to run that have to be done before then.

I have felt under the weather all week, I don’t know if it’s the heat or something else, but my appetite is poor and my stomach is upset.  Not sure if I should eat or not, I don’t feel any better or worse if I do.  Maybe it’s the gastroparesis coming back.  I had that a few years ago and got down to 105 lbs.  Even for my height (5’2″) that’s getting pretty thin.  I guess if it keeps up I’ll have to go to the gastroenterologist again.  Maybe I’ll wait until I lose 20 lbs first though. (LOL)  I’m sleeping pretty good, even napping every day.  Not that napping is necessarily a good thing, but lately a necessity and I’m getting solid 2 hours naps this week.  Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s because I’m not eating well.

All in all things have been pretty good lately.  Husband and I are getting along, Son has been clean and sober, there have Property Photobeen no major arguments.  Husband and I have been looking at property in Oregon/Washington.  Not that we will buy if we move, but just to dream.  Last night we were looking at house boats, or floating houses.  They are so cool.  And actually cheaper than buying a regular house, I guess because you’re not buying any land?  There are even some with 4 bedrooms and two baths, with beautifully re-done kitchens, and wooden floors.  I could definitely live on a house boat.

I’ve been reading “Buddhist Bootcamp” and it speaks to me.  The chapters are short and contains some terrific quotes.  The author is a monk with a keen way to simplify things and it’s working for me.  I’ve actually started to meditate (well I try), and have had the briefest of glimpses into a peaceful mind.  Then the other day I discovered there is a Buddhist Center here in town.  I planned to check it out today after my Tai Chi class, but forgot.  I will definitely make it there soon, though, maybe next week after things cool off.

Speaking of which, my classes are going well.  Zumba is one hell of a work out, and I’m bummed that I missed a class already, and will miss next week as well.  I’m barely getting the steps down and we’re half way through.  I guess I will be able to take the class again.   I tried to find online tutorials, which are actually abundant, but I guess each instructor has their own steps and music, and I haven’t found anything like my class.  I was hoping to see a change in my weight, but maybe by the end of the 8 weeks I’ll drop a few pounds.   I’m getting the hang of Tai Chi as well.  It’s nice to know I can memorize a few of the moves.

Part of the Buddhist Bootcamp talks about denying yourself.  Denying myself chocolate is probably one of my toughest tasks.  Well, chocolate, and ice cream, and brownies.  Preferably together, is my absolute favorite treat and my biggest challenge to deny myself.  Especially if I have a bad day and feel I need to reward myself.  Of course, what kind of reward is it if it is bad for me, right?  That’s the way I have to start looking at it.  Not as a reward, but as a punishment.  That ought to keep me away from brownies!  Last night I was pretty pleased with myself by not grabbing a chocolate bar.  I may have to get ice cream some time this weekend though.  No.  I will not, a nice icy cold piece of fruit would be so much more satisfying (I think if I say that I’ll believe it).

 

Chocolate covered

ice cream brownies drenched in

hot fudge and whipped cream