Sometimes when I don't post for awhile, it's not because I can't think of anything to write. It's because I have SO MUCH to write, I'm not sure how to filter or edit myself. So I wait until things percolate a bit. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't.
Things with Shout have been... well... unraveling.
She went from a kid who had normal episodes of 5-year old silliness and joy - swimming, swinging, running (interspersed with tantrums and problems, of course)- to a kid who won't leave the house. Who throws herself down on the floor screaming at the mere mention of getting in the car.
She doesn't even like to leave our family room - it's become her own personal hamster cage. She's a mess at church, she refuses to go to the pool, she won't come with me to run errands (even if I promise candy). Putting her to bed has been terrible and her sleep is interrupted during the night.
We set off on an adventure last week with promises of lots of kid-friendly fun. About 4 blocks from our house, she was screaming that her stomach hurt and she was going to throw up and she had to GO. HOME. RIGHT. NOW.
We went home.
What could I do?
She's been carrying around our barf bowl. Sitting next to it at all times, sleeping with it, holding it under her chin.
Her stomach might really hurt, but she only mentions it (and by "mention it" I mean "scream about it") when she has to do something she doesn't want to do. (Which, right now, is everything.)
It's horrible. She's a prisoner. I'm a prisoner. We are all stuck in this house. My plans for field trips and day trips have not come to pass. Honestly, I can't even get her to come into the dining room, much less take a subway ride into DC.
If staying home is what it takes to make her feel comfortable, then stay at home we will.
But.
One month from now she not only has to leave the family room, she has to go to school.
All. Day.
In a classroom with 24 other kids, not 8.
She can't bring a barf bowl with her.
If she cries and screams, she'll get sent from the room.
(And a few days after school starts, we are making a 10-hour drive to a very important family event. Honestly, I'm terrified of that.)
She had an occupational therapy evaluation last month. The therapist identified some definite issues. She was able to connect dots that I had no idea were related.
After some back and forth with my insurance company (which was pointless) and waiting to get on the appointment book with a therapist, we finally had our first occupational therapy appointment this week.
I feel... like I can breathe again.
I feel like there is a way out of this hamster cage.
There are people who understand her and know how to help her. (Because I'm not one of them, despite how hard I have tried.)
Who understand what she's capable of and know how to tease it out of her.
Who realize that bad behavior is her way of hiding her anxiety.
But challenge her to better behavior anyway.
Who are teaching me to do the same.
Hope is finally on the way.
8 comments:
You're such a good person, to know when you need help and to go get it when you do. All the best to you and your family. My heart goes out to you.
Sounds like a rough summer for you both. Good luck with getting to the bottom of this, Sue!
My boy has sensory issues, and the high heat is doing a number on him. He begs not to leave the house. "It's just too hot".
And how can I argue when it's 107?
Hang in there Sue. I hope things get better. I really do.
So glad you were able to get an eval. And I don't know if you have decided to work with Colette, but I think she is wonderful and will have lots of great advice for dealing with what sounds like a paralyzing issue for everyone. Best of luck!
I think the real mark of a good parent is knowing when/admitting it's OK to seek help from others. I hope things keep moving forward.
Godspeed, Sue. For you and your girl.
Oh, honey. This sounds like a doozy. Seeing that there is a way out of the hamster cage is critical - I'm glad you see it.
Oh, I love this post, Sue. We put our oldest in play therapy this summer because I'm afraid I have far too little confidence about her making a successful transition to kindergarten next month. And I have to tell you, pre-kids me would have scoffed, SCOFFED, at the idea of putting a small child on therapy. But youre exactly right- they can connect dots that I cannot. And it's traumatic as a process, but it's helping. I wish you continued resilience, friend.
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Go ahead. I can take it.