Friday, April 25, 2008

Long time..

I didn't realize it's been so long since I've written anything. So much has happened. I'm gonna start with today and maybe work my way backwards. Depends on how I feel after getting everything from today out.

Every Friday I have to go to Chantel's school and attend family therapy sessions. Sometimes she's there, sometimes she's not. Today she wasn't. Her teacher came in for a little bit in the beginning to have me sign papers for her IEP.

After she left, the therapist and I started talking about how to handle her picking. How to get her to open up about what she's experiencing while she's actually doing it. He wants me to ask her what she's feeling right at that moment(this is assuming I catch her). What is her body experiencing. What is she thinking about right then. He wants me to not use phrases like "I know how you feel", "Let's just get you cleaned up and out of here". Those types of things. Even though the first one is sympathetic, he said she needs to understand that we want her to talk to about what is happening. To try and get her to use her words. Which led into him reminding me that this will probably bring up a lot of stuff for me.

I told him just sitting in his office talking about it was bringing feelings up. Guilt being the first. Fear, of what I still don't know. Anger at myself for not being able to help her or protect her(depending on what she says is making her pick at that moment). And then all my own stuff that I've done a lot of work on, but maybe not all.

We talked about teaching her to be kind to herself and how I can model that. Hearing him say that broke me down. I don't know why it triggered me, but it did. It was probably just the last piece that I could take in. The subject turned from helping her into helping me heal at the same time. It also made me really stop and think about why I'm so scared to lose weight and have men find me attractive. I had in the session said "If I start losing weight, people might find me attractive again." Her therapist stopped me and said "Catrina, you mean men, don't you?"

It scares the piss out of me. It makes me want to go and curl up in a ball and hide in corner. I want to throw up. I've been hurt by every guy who has ever been in my life, starting with my dad. Being thinner means being vulnerable to being hurt again. Being rejected. Never knowing why I'm not good enough.

Logically, I know it's better for me to lose the weight. Emotionally though, it kills me. At least being fat, I can blame it on that as to why guys don't like me. I don't even have to worry about the approaching me. I can "hide" inthe world behind it.

It almost feels like by getting healthier, I'm exposing my soul. The part of me that is still very fragile.

How does all of this relate to helping Chantel work through what's going on in her mind when she's picking? The only times she picks is when she thinks of her dad. the last male person to hurt or betray me and her. The one who took what I had to offer and ripped it to shreds. The one that I thought I had worked through all my emotions about. They're not so raw, but there are other emotions and evets buried behind those ones. They're the ones that are trying to creep out. Hell, stampede out. They're the ones that scare me. That keep coming up and keeping me down. Helping her wille like reopening an old war wound and digging in it.

So, now I'm not only helping her, I'm dealing with my own stuff all over again.

Yeah me.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Spring Break

Here are some slide shows from Spring Break. The last four on the first slide show are of the hail and snow we ended up getting the day after our trip to the library.

This year Spring Break went pretty smooth. No major blow outs, not a lot of attitude. It was nice. This is the time of year that Chantel usually starts being manic. So it was very nice to have a calm break.

The slideshows are of our day out at the library and civic center. It was so beautiful that day. The kids had a lot of fun and so did I. Both were more worried about taking pics of the ducks and the trees than anything else.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Long Day

Today I had to take Chantel to get blood drawn. It's the first time she's ever had to do this and has been talking about it a lot these last couple of days. She seemed ok with it and what was going to happen. She also knew that her prescriber had prescribed something for her to take today to help with the anxiety. It didn't work, at least not the first time.

I got her up at 7:30 to start getting ready. She was really out of it. She'd been up half the night worrying herself about what was going to happen. Plus she had taken the first of the anti-anxiety pills last night and it knocked her for a loop once she fell asleep. We had to take the bus to the hospital and she kept falling asleep. She was leaning on me and kept pushing me out of the seat. I had to keep holding her hand so she wouldn't fall getting on and off the bus and walking.

When we got to the hospital, they told us we could go up to the second floor and they would be able to do the blood draw there. That way she wouldn't have to walk over to the outpatient center, which is two blocks away. We went up there and the receptionist was really nice and said it wouldn't be very long. I guess they don't think an hour and a half is a long time to wait with a child who is panicky about any type of needle.

When they finally called her name, I had to wake her up and she immediately got panicky. She was shaking and not wanting to go into the room. Once we got her in there she seemed ok. The lady who was going to draw her blood told us that they normally only do lab work for the people who are already admitted to the hospital. I let her know that she needs to tell the front desk that because they were the ones who suggested it. She had another lady come in to help her hold Chantel's arm down 'cause they had been warned that she was extremely nervous. It took them 5 minutes to even figure out if they could find a vein, then they pull out a needle. All hell broke loose then. Chantel started screaming and crying. She wouldn't put her arm back on the pillow. I couldn't even get her to loosen up her arm. She just kept staring at the needle and crying. The nurses were rude and finally told me we had to go. They had too many people upstairs waiting for them. I got Chantel out of the chair and we left.

I told her that we were walking over to the outpatient center. That the bloodwork had to be done today. She kept asking if we could please do it tomorrow. I reminded her that the pills she had been given were only for one day and that putting it off was just going to make her anxiety worse. She kept asking me exactly what it was they were going to do. By the time we got over to the outpatient center she had calmed down.

The receptionist there wasn't surprised when I told her how the nurses had reacted to Chantel's panic over the needle. They said they get those complaints about them all the time. Nice to know after Chantel had a panic attack.

We sat for maybe 10 minutes and they called us in. The lady was really nice to Chantel. Chantel asked her how she was going to poke her. The lady explained that everyone draws blood differently, but her way is to get the needle just under the skin and let the blood do the rest. Chantel was ok with that. She was even ok when she saw the needle. She asked the nurse what kind of needle it was and the nurse told her that it's a needle they use for infants. It's smaller and easier to use on kids. When the nurse was checking for veins, Chantel got a little frustrated when the lady checked her right arm. Chantel told her "That's my writing arm, can't you do it in the other one." The lady was so nice and said "Of course. We'll try that first." She had the needle in Chantel's arm before Chantel even knew what was going on. Once it was in, Chantel wanted to watch the blood fill up the tubes. It took all of 3 minutes for this woman to stick her and draw the blood.

Chantel was so amazed that it didn't take longer. We decided to walk to the transit center from the hospital, 'cause it's not too far from the hospital. The whole way there she kept talking about how all she felt was a scratch and how the blood looked once it was going into the tube. I really wish we would have went to the outpatient center first. We wasted 2 hours at the actual hospital. We didn't get home until 1.

She was so tired from getting all worked up, the medication and the relief from the stress that she fell right asleep. I almost laid down with her. Struggling with her always wears me out. I forget how strong she is when she's in a full blown panic attack. Plus seeing her like that always takes a huge emotional toll on me.

Hopefully she'll remember that it wasn't so bad. 'Cause she has many more blood draws ahead of her because of one of the medications she's on.