On a Different Page

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One of the downsides to living where we live is that it is difficult to find some kinds of medical care for The Boy. Medicaid covers quite a bit, and I am so, so grateful. But not all providers take Medicaid. There is basically one dentist we can go to, who is awesome – Thank heavens! And I have found exactly two counselors for therapy, both a bit of a drive from home.

Since one of The Boy’s major anxieties deals with absences from school (usually other students and teachers, because he never misses school), we eventually settled with the one who offered evening appointments, because missing school when you are anxious about absences is not an option.

The problem is, this counselor claims to have experience with kids on the spectrum, but I’m beginning to have my doubts. She told me last night that her brother has ASD, and I immediately thought of my ex-husband who knew he would be a great dad because his sister had 10 kids (at the time)… correlation not causation.

Red flag #1: She used the word “coddle” when asking if I could have “put my foot down” in the following situation. Grammy, Poppy, The Boy and I were on a long weekend getaway. Our hotel had spotty WiFi that The Boy had difficulty accessing at all. A meltdown was brewing, so we checked out and went to a different hotel. According to the counselor, she thought that I was “coddling” The Boy, and wondered what would have happened if I had “put my foot down.” I looked at her and said, “Most assuredly a meltdown that could have included a violent rage, possibly involving other patrons and property of the hotel.” No WiFi = not an option, and I don’t think there would be too many autism families who would disagree with me.

Red flag #2: She continues to ask open-ended questions. For example, last night, she was pulling cards from a “thoughts-and-feelings” game that you would only find in a counseling office, and gave one to The Boy who was reading them aloud. “What is the worst thing that ever happened to you?” I get that this is commonplace in counseling. Treating patients with autism may require a little more finesse and effort on the part of the counselor to get at what the kid is thinking without him parroting back whatever you said – I’m sure it can be done. Asking him to answer that question? SMH

There have been more, but I think you catch my drift with these two examples. I’ve decided to continue with her because A) there is literally no one else, and B) she doesn’t appear to be doing him any harm, yet. He likes her, and I think he enjoys having another outlet. But I’ll be monitoring the situation closely. She was headed in a very wrong direction regarding something else last night, and if I begin to feel uncomfortable, I will pull him, and we will continue our search anew, possibly driving further to see someone with weekend appointments if such a unicorn exists.

Suffice it to say that access does not equate with quality care, and I wish for the sake of our kids that we Americans cared more.

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Back to Single Motherhood

My marriage has ended. The Man finally moved out on Monday, and will now need a new nickname, although I am not supposed to write about him anywhere. It was unexpected, and there was no reason given. It made for a hellish summer. And that’s all I’ll say about that. Now it’s over, and we are looking forward to new habits, ways of being, and opportunities.

It is good (and also sad) that I have experience to fall back on and help carry me through. I’m watching The Boy like a hawk, and have also had him in counseling for other issues this summer, and I think it helps him to have another outlet. There has been much upheaval in his world, both at home and at school, and there is more to come. It’s so hard to be a teenager. And then add autism. And then add people leaving you unexpectedly (your stepdad, band director, favorite assistant principal…). Through all this, he’s been handling everything like a pro. LIKE A PRO. He had one major meltdown this summer. ONE. His transition back to school has been smooth as silk. He amazes me every day, and I am so thankful for him. So thankful.

I am getting back into my writing, and it feels amazing. I’m preparing for NaNoWriMo this November, and have been selected as a Municipal Liaison for my region (which means I help coordinate events and support for others participating in NaNoWriMo). I’m also taking a writing course offered to NaNoWriMo participants through Wesleyan University in Connecticut (online), and it has been an awesome experience and quite validating.

As always, my closest friends, and my incredible parents have been my rock and have seen me through to the other side. Thank you all for being so patient. Onward and Upward, or as my favorite Doctor (#10) from Doctor Who says, “Allons-y!”

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The Boy and I at a bowling party hosted by our local Autism Society Chapter this summer

We Need to Care More About Mental Health Care, Starting in the Schools

I was just watching some commentary on the Navy Yard Shootings that occurred a short time ago, and indeed how mundane these mass shootings are seeming.  No one even appeared to take notice of this last one, and that is really scary.

I’m not going to get into a debate about guns.

But I am going to get on my soapbox for a minute about something I feel is related.

Mental Health Awareness Ribbon

Mental Health Awareness Ribbon

The school where I used to work has one counselor and one social worker for 900 children.  The school where my son is enrolled now has one counselor for 300 children, and no social worker.  (And guess who is often in charge of all the standardized testing in the school?  How much counseling do you think they get done with that on their plate??)  You see, these positions are often the first to get cut or reduced, often to preserve the teaching staff.  And while I don’t disagree that teachers are important, I have seen the children walking through our school doors over the past 20 years.  I have seen how aggressive, how damaged, how out-of-control they have become.  And I have spoken with the parents, the ones who when you meet them, cause you to say, “Now I understand.”

Today’s kids are dealing with a lot.  They are exposed to so much more than in years past, and too often, parents are not on top of it, neither to control what they are watching, hearing, experiencing, nor to help them process that information.  I don’t know if bullying has increased over the years, but I do know that most kids can be mean, and when I say mean, I mean MEAN.  That’s a lot for anyone to deal with.  And then if you don’t have a perfect home-life…

Mental health in this country has always been taboo.  Unfortunately, we are telling our kids that it isn’t that important through underfunding the resources that they need to help them be of healthy mind.  And they are left to deal with the world on their own terms, with virtually no help.

I’m not suggesting that this is a cause of these mass shootings that have become so common, but our attitudes toward mental health don’t seem to have changed, even with the evidence staring us in the face.  And support for our children and their mental health should not be an afterthought, only provided when there is enough in the budget.  Our actions speak loudly to those kids, and right now we are telling them to suck it up and deal.  That’s not good enough.

The Other Part of Our Story, Part II

He moved into the basement.  He finally consented to the counseling I had been asking for since The Boy was a baby, six years previous (he had always insisted, “We can solve our own problems”), although he considered it an ultimatum from me, which it was.  We attended three sessions together where he did most of the talking.  After the third session, we had an assignment to list  all of the things that we thought the other person misunderstood about us, and then we were to share our lists with each other.

I read my carefully crafted list of maybe six items.  He then read his three page diatribe about everything that was wrong with me, how his family and friends really felt about me, and about how I was such a bitch.  Then he accused me of throwing something at his head in an argument we had had when The Boy was a baby.

(The real story was, he had thrown something at me, while I was holding The Boy, at maybe three months old.  And I had almost left that day.  I did bundle The Boy up and went for a long walk in the cold and snow.  I finally decided against it because babies have so much stuff and it would be very difficult to move everything.)

After he had lied about that argument, and completely twisted the assignment, showing he had no faith in the counseling, I knew it was time to stop fighting, and time to let go.

From our vacation that June...

From our vacation that June…

The Boy and I left town after school was out, on our annual week-long vacation to my parents’ house.  The ex rarely came, and definitely did not come this time.  I took my ring off for the trip, and never did put it back on.  I decided while there that I would file for divorce when I returned, and I did.

Final installment soon…