16: Week 3 Continued/More Battles

 

 As I look back, trying to continue writing this, I am realizing that the next few days are kind of a blur. I think I am still in shock over the whole tantrum thing. I think she has a break from the clinic the next day and she goes to school for a full day. Oh wait! It is now coming back to me....Tuesday, November 27th, is the morning that she wakes up and refuses to go to school. Memory jogged!

    I tell her the goal for the day is to get to school and I need her to get ready. She tells me her stomach hurts and she is not going. I calmly tell her the choices. She can either get dressed in her school uniform or she can get dressed for the doctor’s office. Of course, she doesn't like either option. She just wants to stay in bed. Her dream at this point is to never leave our house, be home-schooled, and have no social life. I have read that this is what really happens to some emetophobics. They grow up to become agoraphobics who cannot leave their homes. I will not let this happen!

    So, here I am in battle #3. Her yelling begins. In front of my son this time since the plan was to bring her to school and then drop him off. He handles it well. I have already explained things to him in a way that Dr. G had told me to. He understands she has a problem that we are trying to help her with. He knows that she is like a particular little boy in his class that often has tantrums and has a hard time following directions. He gets it and just follows my lead. 
    My husband is following my lead, too. I meet him into the bedroom a couple of times to remind him, and myself, how we are supposed to react or ignore. Remember, I had an entire week of training while he was away and now I have to train him. So, while she is yelling at me from the chair right next to me, my son and I are on the floor having a blast playing a game. I am trying to be not bothered by her in the least bit. We play his favorite game of lining up our soldiers and trying to knock each other’s down with a marble. The last one standing is the winner. Hm, kind of like my life right now. 
    My husband is getting ready to leave for the office when we decide we need to make a plan. I call our son's school to see how early he can be dropped off. Yay! More fees! So he takes him to early-care while I deal with her.

    She keeps up the show saying that normal kids that have stomach aches don't have to go to school. I simply reply "Not you. You have missed so much school that you have to have a doctor's note from now on every time you are absent." Yes, I need to be a good liar at the drop of a hat. The school has been amazing and they don't need any doctor's note. They know they will have a Dr. G doctor's note, that will be many pages I am sure, when the time comes. 
    She continues with her tantrum. No throwing things this time, though. I start giving her ultimatums. I write down a time and tell her if she is not ready by then, she will lose computer privileges. She is not ready. I write down more times as the hour drags on taking away more privileges each time. She is down for no computer for 1 week and no TV for the evening. 
     Then I threaten with no TV at bedtime for two nights. This one means something to her. She needs the TV to fall asleep. It was the only way she could occupy her mind when this all started 2 years ago and it is kind of her crutch to get to bed. I give her a good 20 minutes for this one. I remind her to watch the clock closely since even 1 minute over will result in the punishment. I tell her I will be in my room cleaning and to come and get me when she is ready. 
    I shut my door and hope to god she is getting ready so I will not have another battle about the TV if I really have to take it out of her room. I hear her getting ready and I am curious if she will be ready for school or the doctor's office. I don't really care. I just need to be strong and win this. There is a knock on my door and she is ready in her uniform. I get her to school at 9:30 and leave her with her guidance counselor. I did it again! Mommy 3, My daughter  0! The rest of the day is okay. Until we put our son to bed...
    I take a benedryl so I can maybe actually sleep. I tell my daughter and husband that I am heading into bed early. As soon as I get into bed I can hear her being loud. I can hear the garage/office door slamming. Ugh, here we go again. I am going to let him try to deal with it before I step in. He comes to the bedroom to fill me in and I remind him of what he needs to do. Now that she knows she cannot get anywhere with me. It's time to try Daddy. I let them be for at least half an hour. Now she is screaming and I get up to ask her to quiet down so she doesn't wake up our son. She gets louder and I remember that Dr. G said if I tell her something like that, she will get louder to get more attention. Ugh. That's okay, I am allowed to mess up under the effects of my benedryl.

    I go back to my room. She is in the garage with Daddy. She is punching him in the gut and yelling that she needs to get out of the house and never come back. Good thing all that salami and cheese has given him some extra cushion lately. He takes it for a bit and then blocks her hands and tells her to stop. She is now in the yard, at 10:30 pm, yelling that she wants to run away and go live with another family that doesn't make her do this therapy. Thankfully our closest neighbor is a psychology student at UM. And, she actually went through a bit of the same thing when she was her age. Maybe she won’t call the police. 
   She is now saying that she wants to say the thing she is not supposed to say. Yes, the one about killing herself. The one that will make either me, under the effects of my benedryl, or my husband after a few glasses of wine, have to drive her to the ER. We decide it will be me if needed. I won’t get arrested for driving under the influence of allergy medicine. I remind her that if she needs to say it, she should. But then we will need to go immediately to the ER. All I am thinking is please don't say it, please don't say it! I need to go to bed! 
    I cannot do this all night. So, I tell her that if she is not quiet and in her bed in 15 minutes, I will take her to the ER anyway because she is very unstable. She finally comes to my bed and is crying and telling me that she feels trapped and out of control and she doesn't know what to do. I tell her all my rehearsed lines of  "I know this must be hard. We have to hang in and get through it. We are all working to get her better." She finally calms down and goes to bed. Mommy 4, Daddy 1, our daughter 0.
    Morning arrives and my husband drops our son off at school. I go for a walk and really think about how to wake her up for school and what to do for this next possible battle. I decide to let her sleep in for a bit. That way she cannot say she is too tired because she didn't sleep. I wake her up around 9 and tell her that we need to get to school as soon as possible, so please get ready. I explain to her that I have to be home by 10 because the appliance guy is coming to fix the washing machine. Yes, my washing machine broke the other day. In addition to all this other crap, I am running out of clean clothes and there are mountains of laundry in the garage. She very respectfully wakes up and quietly gets ready. I am shocked.

    We get into the car and start to drive. She talks nicely, yet tearfully, about how she would like a chance to prove to us that she can go to school, stop washing her hands, and be a normal kid. She tells me that the clinic is too much for her and she can handle things now. She has learned enough from Dr. G to be able to be normal and she wants to prove it to us. She wants me to call Dr. G and tell her all of this. I say I will try to call her. I also tell her that if she is better, she should be able to go to the clinic without any problem. And, get to school without any issues. And, get dressed for PE class, which she had not done the past 2 days resulting in two zeros. I don't ease her fears nor do I give any solutions. I just listen.
    We say our goodbyes at school and I remind her that I will pick her up soon to get to the clinic. I also promise her I will call Dr. G. I drive home thinking about all she said. Maybe we should let her prove it to us. She said if she can't we could take her right back to the clinic. Maybe last night has turned her around. I am so impressed at the mature way she has spoken to me and I feel like I need to honor it somehow. 
    I arrive home and meet the appliance guy for my washer. He checks it and then informs me that it cannot be fixed. My eyes well up with tears and I think he thinks I am a bit nutty. He quickly tries to ease my worries and says he already left a message for my landlord. I apologize for my tears. I simply tell him it is the straw that may break the camel's back. Poor guy. He made a woman cry because he couldn't fix her washer!

    I forget about my laundry and call Dr. G. I tell her we need to either finish this week gently or give things a break. I tell her about last night and how nice she was this morning. Dr. G starts talking. The clear, concise, rational talking that she always does with me. She explains that our daughter cannot get to us anymore by screaming and throwing furniture and threatening to kill herself, so now she is trying the nice approach. I instantly see her point and feel like the biggest sucker on the planet. We decide to talk more about it with my husband and myself when we get there later for the appointment.