Monday, December 10, 2012

15: Back to School, The Tantrum, 3rd Week of Therapy

   

The weekend was manageable and my husband came home on Saturday. I fill him in on everything I have learned and I show him my notebook full of notes I have jotted down from a long phone conversation with Dr. G the other night. I consolidated about 30 post it notes, all I could find when I was on the phone, into a few pages that I can refer to every night or when a battle arises. My daughter is apprehensive about school the next day, but knowing she is only staying for 3 hours helps her not get too worked up. We talk about what she will tell people at school regarding where she has been. She decides she will tell her close friends the truth and just tell everyone else it is personal.
    It is Monday, November 26th. We wake up at that dreadful 6:30 school morning time. She is scared and has a stomach ache. She takes her medicine and eats a few bites of food. She hangs out in the bathroom for a while and as it gets closer to leave, I tell her I will be in the car waiting. I am hoping this will speed her up. We drive to school and as usual, her tummy starts to hurt even more as we get closer to school. I tell her I love her, I am proud of her, and I will pick her up at 11 - before PE class. She hates PE, so I figured she should have an easy first day and skip it. We have an appointment with Dr. G at 1 and the plan was to go home for lunch first.

The Tantrum:
    I pick her up from school and as we are driving, she starts getting angry and nervous about going. A quick thought goes through my head that we should not go home. But I don't know what else to do to kill the time before our appointment. Always listen to your sixth sense! 
   As soon as we get home she is going crazy. She is yelling that she is not going and I can't make her. Crap! We should not have come home! She is slamming doors and starting to throw things in her room. She is screaming that she hates me. That I am a horrible mother. I am now thinking that conversation, about child protective services that I had with Dr. G, may actually be the most helpful thing anyone has said to me. Because now, I have to use some serious restraint and some damn good parenting skills instead of losing my temper.
    She says she is going to lock herself in her room. I tell her if she does, I will have to call the police to help me get her to the clinic. I am fully prepared to do so since I have to follow through with what I say.  I think, "oh my god! I have just threatened to call the police on my 11 year old, 56lb child." This is out of control! She is now throwing chairs in the kitchen. I have no idea what to do and I just let her get it out. I text Dr. G and ask her what I should do. She is trashing our house and screaming loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
    Dr. G is amazing. She goes above and beyond and is texting back and forth with me for the next hour coaching me through the situation. Following her instructions, I wait outside for her. When she comes out to yell at me more, I lock the front door and tell her I will wait in the car. I go in the car and she goes around the back of the house to get back inside. I wait in the car. After a while, I go in to use the bathroom and simply remind her that Dr. G is waiting for us and I will be in the car. As she yells more, I ignore her and go back to the car. Just like at the clinic on the vomit exposure day, she comes to the car to yell and then goes back inside. This goes on for about 30 minutes or so. I am trying to keep myself busy in the car. The mailman sees me and knocks on the window to give me the mail. Great! Something to read.
   She finally comes outside and wants to talk about what Dr. G will do today. I say we can talk as soon as she gets in the car. She gets in and I immediately start to drive. She reminds me that she left the door unlocked and I say how I hope the dogs don't get out. There is no way I am giving her another opportunity to go inside the house. 
   As I drive, she is screaming at me so loud that I have to squint my eyes. Apparently, she really hates me now and I am the worst mother in the world. She doesn't do her seat belt because she says she wants me to crash and maybe she will get hurt. I just ignore her and fight back my tears. Suddenly the movie The Exorcist comes to mind. If you have seen the movie, you know the scene. When the priests are trying to drive out the devil. The devil is talking through the girl saying horrible things and making her hurt herself and them. Minus the green vomit of course... Thankfully the clinic is 5 minutes from our house!
    I text Dr. G when we get to the garage. She will not get out of the car. Same routine she tells me. I get out and wait by the entry door. She eventually gets out and I lock the car. Then I go inside the entry and wait for her. Takes another 5 minutes. Then I head to the hallway outside the waiting room. She is yelling in the hallway and people are clearly interested in the situation. Dr. G tells me to go into the waiting room. I say no, there are people in there and I don't want to scare them. She reminds me that it cannot be worse than what she did there the other day. 
     We make it into the waiting room and there is another mother who sees me struggling not to burst into tears. Her teenage daughter is trying to talk to her and ask her why she is so upset. She wants no part of any conversation, so she gets up to leave and the Mom tells me to be strong and hang in there. She went through this with her daughter and it will get better. Dr. G sees her by the office and tells her that she will come to get her when she is in the waiting room and calm. I can't hold myself together any longer and I text her to please hurry up!
    She finally comes to the waiting room and has us follow her to the therapy room. My daughter is behind me and does not see my crying. Dr. G sees and sends me to the bathroom to gather myself so we can all chat. My daughter takes a detour because she does not want to walk past the bathroom she saw the vomit in the other day. We all go our separate ways and meet in the room. When I come in, they are talking about school and how Dr. G is proud of her for getting to school. Since we are late, they are just going to look at some photos online and do things that will hopefully be a bit easier for her that she has accomplished before. I don't even know if we talked in detail about the trouble getting there. Maybe it was just a "I understand it was really hard to get here today" to her from Dr. G.
    I let them do their thing and I just hang out and wait. I go to the waiting room and call my husband to let him know we are safely there. Then people are trying to chat with me and I just don't feel like it. I am supposed to teach later and I cannot even function right now. I go out to the lobby and sit in the corner, on the floor by the elevators, where it is quiet. I call my friend and tell her that I am not sure if I will make it in to teach. In addition to being my amazing friend, she is also my boss. She asks if everything is okay and I burst into tears. She gives me a pep talk and I feel a bit better. But I just sit there for a while. I don't know when the last time I slept through the night was. I have lost 5 lbs this week from the stress and I just cannot get up. So, I check my email and gather my thoughts before going back to the waiting room.
    They finish up and Dr. G talks to me alone. She wants to make sure I am okay and that I realize what a good job I did. She tells me that she will have to clean up the mess at home or have privileges taken away. I realize I won that battle and I am a tiny bit proud that I got her there. I decide to go teach so I can get out of the house and focus on something else.
    I am now keeping score of my battles. Mommy 2, my daughter 0. Or if you want to start from birth - My daughter 987,654,321..., Mommy 2.