Hope in Front of Us

Life with Avery has been particularly rough lately.  I know what's going on, but feel powerless in helping him, in fixing it, in being able to do anything about it.  I am merely a bystander--a very tired, worn out, sad, bystander.  We are in the midst of ADHD-OCD-ODD hell, and he's only six years old. Our med-eval in two weeks feels light years away.  My prayer at this point is that we can hit the nail on the head with the right medication and right dosage the first time.  My child needs help.  I'm losing hope.

There was a time, before Noah's diagnosis, I would send him off to school in the morning, then wait.  I hated opening my email.  I jumped and broke out into a sweat when the phone rang.  I had to psych myself up to go pick him up.  Inevitably, I would get the email from the teacher, the phone call, or be pulled aside at pick up.  "Do you know what Noah did today?"  "We had another issue with Noah today."  "Noah had to be removed from the classroom again today."  There were days I dreaded sending him back.  With the stress of it all, I lost 45 pounds, and most of my mind.  Our marriage suffered, Noah suffered, none of it was ever good.

This is the point we've reached with Avery, now.  Each day this week, it's been something new.  There was a Category 6 meltdown when I took a different route to school than Shawn takes.  A major temper tantrum when I told him he couldn't wear long sleeves.  Then he destroyed several articles of clothing, had to be removed from the cafeteria during lunch, was rude to the substitute, homework is a nightly two hour battle--the list goes on.  When the counselor pulled me aside yesterday at pick up, it was kind of the last straw.  I felt so defeated I couldn't even react.  When she asked me if this is fairly normal for him, I wearily shook my head yes.  I thanked her for the way the cafeteria situation was handled, collected my child, and left.  There are times Avery shows little remorse, and when he does, it's the kind of remorse a person shows only when they know they should, but don't quite feel it.  He is indifferent to discipline, seeming to just not care that his behavior has consequences. His self esteem is suffering, and he, my charismatic, usually happy, extroverted child, has not made any friends in school so far this year.  He does not appear to understand the ramifications of his behavior, or  how it affects his relationships with others.  When we put him to bed last night, he asked why I'm sad and I lost it.  Crying, I explained that his behavior makes me sad.  When he doesn't listen, when he's naughty on purpose, I'm sad.

I've not been feeling hopeful.  I'm losing my mind.  I am battle weary.  I'm gaining weight.  My marriage is suffering again, our entire family is in chaos.  I don't go to bed at night and rest, I go to bed and think, "It all starts again in eight hours."  I lay awake praying the next day will be different.  I worry that by diagnosing him, we are allowing him to skirt responsibility for his behavior and actions, then I worry I'm too hard on him over things he possibly can't control. I pray that Scouts and sports will help.  I worry that if things are this bad now, what could that possibly mean for his teen years, and I pray we can get to him in time before it comes to that.  As with Noah's process several years ago, there are days I want to walk out of the house and just leave.  I don't feel strong enough to do this.

I went back in my archives and found some of the posts I wrote during Noah's process, because I just need hope.  I re-read several posts, and wow, Noah has come so far in these past five years! I never thought we'd get through it, but we did.  I look at where he is now with life and I'm speechless.  He gives me hope for Avery.  I have to remind myself it is a process. I know we will get through this. None of this will happen overnight.  I also have to remind myself that this is part of God's plan for Avery, as it is with Noah,  and certainly not the end.  Somehow, this will all work for His good, right?  God's got this, even when I don't.  I don't have to be strong enough to do this, because God already is.