Middle School Starts in August of
2012. She is at a brand new school. A big change from her tiny little Waldorf
style school from the past 2 years where there was no homework, tests, grades
or academic pressure. She is jumping right into the real world now. She is excited
to be in this new beautiful school. She loves the students and the teachers and
finally getting some homework. The loving of homework only lasted the 1st week
mind you...
As I try to remember back to this time when the emetophobia got really bad, I can't pinpoint what set it off. But, I am starting to understand that this anxiety is all because of a lack of control that she feels. Maybe it's a buildup of needing to control her life somehow. She no longer has my husband and I all to herself since our son was born, we move her from the only home she ever knew in MA, new school, lots of homework, people telling her what to do all day long, etc... I do remember the first week of school there was a boy that threw up at school and she was really scared when she got home. Then she started thinking about the amount of kids in school and the amount of germs there must be. Not to mention that in middle school, someone is always complaining of a headache or a stomach ache.
As I try to remember back to this time when the emetophobia got really bad, I can't pinpoint what set it off. But, I am starting to understand that this anxiety is all because of a lack of control that she feels. Maybe it's a buildup of needing to control her life somehow. She no longer has my husband and I all to herself since our son was born, we move her from the only home she ever knew in MA, new school, lots of homework, people telling her what to do all day long, etc... I do remember the first week of school there was a boy that threw up at school and she was really scared when she got home. Then she started thinking about the amount of kids in school and the amount of germs there must be. Not to mention that in middle school, someone is always complaining of a headache or a stomach ache.
She started
washing her hands a lot. A LOT! She started thinking she was sick every day or
was going to get sick from whoever was near her at school. So her brain,
whether consciously or not, came up with a plan to be able to control her from
getting sick. Mind you I am not a psychologist, but I am just picking my own
brain for answers and explanations. She decides school is a dangerous place.
She needs to not eat there, try to stay away from her friends - especially if
they are complaining of any ailments, bring hand sanitizer, stay out of any
bathrooms and beg and plead my husband and I not to take her to school. She
would have stomach aches in the morning because she would be so terrified. She
would call me from school with a headache and try to get me to pick her up. She
also stopped going to her ballet classes. She also stopped helping me with my
ballet classes for fear of the little kids. This is really starting to make me
even sadder. She had been helping me with my ballet classes for years. She used
to love it! It was our thing together.
In addition to all of that she tried to stay away from her little brother who must be bringing home lots of preschool germs. She would ask us when we washed his hands and our hands and when I cleaned the kitchen counters and what did I use to clean them. She started to check expiration dates on everything. She was doing that for a while, but now the expiration date had to be far away in order for her to eat it. Going out for dinner was getting to be out of the question.
One night we went to one of our favorite places. We know the owner, it's clean, the food is great, we sit outside, and she gets up to go wash her hands. She cannot wash them because someone is in the bathroom and she can't get in. Instead of waiting, she comes back in a panic. She is crying and shaking and she wants to go home. There are too many people! Too many germs! She needs to get out! I look around and it is still early for dinner in Miami Beach. There is maybe one other couple at a nearby table. We are outside in the fresh air! I point all of this out to her and I get her to calm down. I tell her we are not going home and I can walk her to the bathroom so she can wash her hands. We wash and go back to the table. She then starts asking about how we know if the chef or the waiters are not sick. Ugh. I think that was the last time we went out for dinner...
In addition to all of that she tried to stay away from her little brother who must be bringing home lots of preschool germs. She would ask us when we washed his hands and our hands and when I cleaned the kitchen counters and what did I use to clean them. She started to check expiration dates on everything. She was doing that for a while, but now the expiration date had to be far away in order for her to eat it. Going out for dinner was getting to be out of the question.
One night we went to one of our favorite places. We know the owner, it's clean, the food is great, we sit outside, and she gets up to go wash her hands. She cannot wash them because someone is in the bathroom and she can't get in. Instead of waiting, she comes back in a panic. She is crying and shaking and she wants to go home. There are too many people! Too many germs! She needs to get out! I look around and it is still early for dinner in Miami Beach. There is maybe one other couple at a nearby table. We are outside in the fresh air! I point all of this out to her and I get her to calm down. I tell her we are not going home and I can walk her to the bathroom so she can wash her hands. We wash and go back to the table. She then starts asking about how we know if the chef or the waiters are not sick. Ugh. I think that was the last time we went out for dinner...
School was
becoming an almost impossible chore. She was getting there maybe 2 or 3 days
out of each week. She would tell me she did not feel well every morning. She
would be in the bathroom for a while and convince me some days she needs to
stay home because she feels sick. I explain to her that it is the anxiety
starting to hurt her tummy for real. She makes me promise her every morning and
every night that she won’t get sick. Ever! I knew it was an empty promise and
it killed me to do so. But if I didn't do it, there was shear panic. Her hands
were now cracked and red and bleeding from all of the washing. It was now two
showers a day instead of her one ritual before bedtime shower. What the heck
was happening!
We are now seeing Dr. T every week instead of every other. She explains that she needs medication. That she is now not able to put anything in practice that Dr. T is trying to help her with. She is angry and sad all the time and down to 58 lbs. Not even at the 0% on the growth chart! She was 65.5 at the start of school. She looks awful with gray circles under her eyes and not an ounce of fat on her.
We are now seeing Dr. T every week instead of every other. She explains that she needs medication. That she is now not able to put anything in practice that Dr. T is trying to help her with. She is angry and sad all the time and down to 58 lbs. Not even at the 0% on the growth chart! She was 65.5 at the start of school. She looks awful with gray circles under her eyes and not an ounce of fat on her.
I sit on
Dr. T's couch and cry like a baby. Medication?! No. My husband has been pushing
for it since she was born practically, and I want no part of it! There are
horrible side effects. I know kids who have been on them. Of whom both ended up
in hospitals because of suicidal thoughts. No! I am the "o natural"
lady. Remember? I birthed my kids at home, did attachment parenting, and I have
cabinets full of homeopathic medicine. No no no. I need a better plan.
To appease my husband and Dr. T's professional opinion, I start calling psychiatrists. A very frustrating task I quickly find out. I call the one she gives me the name of. After 2 days, and no call back, I try again sounding more desperate. Finally she calls me back and tells me she has no openings. She gives me 5 other names. I call them all. My husband is now is getting mad at me for not being able to produce an appointment. Not mad, maybe just frustrated with my stubbornness and not listening to him years ago. A few more days go by and one finally calls me back. She says she has an opening. She also says she takes no insurance, it's $300 per session and she needs about 4 or 5 sessions to come up with a diagnosis and a plan. And she is not willing to work together with Dr. T. Okay, now I feel like I am going to throw up!!
I start doing some more research on the computer and I run across something I had seen in the past. "Is your child feeling anxious or sad? Is it affecting their daily life?" Hell yes! So I get on the phone and I call The Child and Adolescent Mood and Anxiety Treatment Program at the University of Miami. I have a 30 minute phone interview with a very nice gentleman. I am desperate I tell him. He then tells me his boss is out of town until Monday and I will have to wait until early that next week to find out if my daughter is a good candidate for their program. The waiting game starts again.
To appease my husband and Dr. T's professional opinion, I start calling psychiatrists. A very frustrating task I quickly find out. I call the one she gives me the name of. After 2 days, and no call back, I try again sounding more desperate. Finally she calls me back and tells me she has no openings. She gives me 5 other names. I call them all. My husband is now is getting mad at me for not being able to produce an appointment. Not mad, maybe just frustrated with my stubbornness and not listening to him years ago. A few more days go by and one finally calls me back. She says she has an opening. She also says she takes no insurance, it's $300 per session and she needs about 4 or 5 sessions to come up with a diagnosis and a plan. And she is not willing to work together with Dr. T. Okay, now I feel like I am going to throw up!!
I start doing some more research on the computer and I run across something I had seen in the past. "Is your child feeling anxious or sad? Is it affecting their daily life?" Hell yes! So I get on the phone and I call The Child and Adolescent Mood and Anxiety Treatment Program at the University of Miami. I have a 30 minute phone interview with a very nice gentleman. I am desperate I tell him. He then tells me his boss is out of town until Monday and I will have to wait until early that next week to find out if my daughter is a good candidate for their program. The waiting game starts again.
Much to my
surprise he calls me back 30 minutes later. He tells me he called his boss and
she gave him the okay. Wow, I must have sounded desperate... The earliest appointment
he has is two weeks away. I resign to the fact that this is going to be a long
process and I accept that we have to hang in there. I relay my new plan to my
husband and Dr. T. They tell me "that's great! But do you have an
appointment with a psychiatrist in the meantime?" I tell her my dilemma
with trying to find one and that I am done with that for now. I just want to
wait to hear what the Univ. of Miami has to say first.
In the meantime, things are getting worse. My husband starts looking online for psychiatrists. He finds one that actually calls him back. They play phone tag until he has to leave the country for a quick trip. I take over and get an appointment with this 75 year old man who works two days per week. I make the appointment but think there must be someone better.
One more time, I hop onto the computer. I type in "child psychiatrists Miami." I see all the names I have already called and then one pops right out at me that I didn't see before and I give her a call. She called me back right away and tells me she has a cancellation and can see us the very next day. I cancel the old man and breathe a huge sigh of relief. Help may be just around the corner!
In the meantime, things are getting worse. My husband starts looking online for psychiatrists. He finds one that actually calls him back. They play phone tag until he has to leave the country for a quick trip. I take over and get an appointment with this 75 year old man who works two days per week. I make the appointment but think there must be someone better.
One more time, I hop onto the computer. I type in "child psychiatrists Miami." I see all the names I have already called and then one pops right out at me that I didn't see before and I give her a call. She called me back right away and tells me she has a cancellation and can see us the very next day. I cancel the old man and breathe a huge sigh of relief. Help may be just around the corner!
