Last night, I got home and he was sitting outside tending his little fire... again. *rolling eyes* Towards me, he was very pliant but it appears he is getting very upset with his mom. Probably because she does not work so they are around each other all day long. I think that it's time she starts volunteering or something.
Anyway, he took a picture off the wall in the kitchen and now it is just gone. (We suspect he used it to get a fire going.) So his mom took his debit card. Every time he asks about it, she asks about her picture. It's a stand-off! Anyway, we think that he only had $10 in the account anyway. So this makes the fight over ten bucks. Oh well.
Last night, I talked with the guy that processes in new mental health cases in our county. He was very straight forward about voluntary vs involuntary commitals. He also explained that more than half the time, voluntary committals uncommit themselves at the last minute. So, just as I expected, this is a war of patience and inner power.
*sigh*
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
Lies! Lies!
Sunday, October 27, 2006
We returned and found the stepson in the backyard still. I asked him if he had called the number and he said that he did. I asked what they said and he responded with, "They said they were all booked up until Monday." (What a freakin liar.)
While cleaning up the kitchen, my wife found the remains of a Sun FM radio that I had loaned to him for him to listen to. He had broken it up into little pieces.
Tomorrow, he has promised to call the locat outpatient place. Tomorrow is the pivot point. If he does not call, then we are going to have to force his hand because I fear that he is going further into the well than he can handle and something bad is going to happen.
We returned and found the stepson in the backyard still. I asked him if he had called the number and he said that he did. I asked what they said and he responded with, "They said they were all booked up until Monday." (What a freakin liar.)
While cleaning up the kitchen, my wife found the remains of a Sun FM radio that I had loaned to him for him to listen to. He had broken it up into little pieces.
Tomorrow, he has promised to call the locat outpatient place. Tomorrow is the pivot point. If he does not call, then we are going to have to force his hand because I fear that he is going further into the well than he can handle and something bad is going to happen.
A Ploy for Sanity
Saturday, October 28, 2006
We awoke and the stepson was outside. However, a picture was missing from the kitchen. We asked him what he did with the picture and he acted all pissed off like we were accusing him of something. We said it plain English, "We know that you took the painting off the wall in the kitchen - what did you do with it?" Again, he went with the act of being defensive like we were accusing him of something he couldn't understand.
I walked out to the fire again and just sat for a few minutes. I said, "So what's going on?" He said, "Just trying to work it all out." I said, yeah, there's a lot to work out. He made the comment that I started it and it was me that was forking with him. I re-iterated that he needed to call the local county mental hospital and get some help and he said that he would call. I volunteered to look the number up for him. He declined.
We decided that mywife was going to have another breakdown if she stayed here another night so we took off and went to Helen, GA for the day and night. Before we left, I handed him the phone and the calling card for the local mental hotline and told him that if he wanted the voices to go away and start getting better, he had to call them and tell the truth. He said that he would call.
We left.
We awoke and the stepson was outside. However, a picture was missing from the kitchen. We asked him what he did with the picture and he acted all pissed off like we were accusing him of something. We said it plain English, "We know that you took the painting off the wall in the kitchen - what did you do with it?" Again, he went with the act of being defensive like we were accusing him of something he couldn't understand.
I walked out to the fire again and just sat for a few minutes. I said, "So what's going on?" He said, "Just trying to work it all out." I said, yeah, there's a lot to work out. He made the comment that I started it and it was me that was forking with him. I re-iterated that he needed to call the local county mental hospital and get some help and he said that he would call. I volunteered to look the number up for him. He declined.
We decided that mywife was going to have another breakdown if she stayed here another night so we took off and went to Helen, GA for the day and night. Before we left, I handed him the phone and the calling card for the local mental hotline and told him that if he wanted the voices to go away and start getting better, he had to call them and tell the truth. He said that he would call.
We left.
The Jeep has an adventure without me!
Friday, October 27, 2006
Woke up this morning and used the bathroom. While I was there, I heard my Jeep start up and take off. Then my wife came back and asked if I had given the stepson permission to use the Jeep to "go buy socks". I said that I had not talked with him yet this day.
We waited for over EIGHT hours for him to come back, the entire time having his brother look for him here and there. I went to his ex-dealer's house to see if he had gone there. He was not there. When he did return, he said that he had been just trying to work it all out. I went out later to his little fire pit and talked with him about stuff. Like what kind of jobs were out there, etc.
That night, my wife did not sleep very well because he was constantly moving around the house.
Woke up this morning and used the bathroom. While I was there, I heard my Jeep start up and take off. Then my wife came back and asked if I had given the stepson permission to use the Jeep to "go buy socks". I said that I had not talked with him yet this day.
We waited for over EIGHT hours for him to come back, the entire time having his brother look for him here and there. I went to his ex-dealer's house to see if he had gone there. He was not there. When he did return, he said that he had been just trying to work it all out. I went out later to his little fire pit and talked with him about stuff. Like what kind of jobs were out there, etc.
That night, my wife did not sleep very well because he was constantly moving around the house.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Fire & firewater
Last night the stepson and I went to our local hardware store and purchased the wood and sheetrock, etc to finish the laundry room floor. While we were checking out, the girl running the register had NO clue. She intimated that we should go back to where we got the wood and bring her back a barcode for it.
The stepson got pissed off and said, "It's not my job, you do it." this is not really like him. He is not completely up right now.
Later - about 9 pm or so - he went out and restarted the scrap-wood-fire in the back yard and then proceeded to sit out there for about 3 hours. I threw on the 'jammies and walked out there to suggest that he save some of the wood for a future cold night. He asked if we had any bourbon left. I told him that we did not and that he needed to be very careful about alcohol consumption because it was a depressant. He said, but it's also a stimulant. I gently corrected him about that misconception.
I returned to bed and about 20 minutes later or so, he came in and went to bed.
*sigh*
The stepson got pissed off and said, "It's not my job, you do it." this is not really like him. He is not completely up right now.
Later - about 9 pm or so - he went out and restarted the scrap-wood-fire in the back yard and then proceeded to sit out there for about 3 hours. I threw on the 'jammies and walked out there to suggest that he save some of the wood for a future cold night. He asked if we had any bourbon left. I told him that we did not and that he needed to be very careful about alcohol consumption because it was a depressant. He said, but it's also a stimulant. I gently corrected him about that misconception.
I returned to bed and about 20 minutes later or so, he came in and went to bed.
*sigh*
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
The Talk
So, last night my wife and I pulled my stepson into the living room and had a talk with him. We told him that we had found an outpatient place near the house. Yes, it did involve talking with psychiatrist, but it was not one of those places where they throw you in a padded room and locked you in, etc. We told him that he had no choice in the matter but that he did have to go and get help from somewhere.
I could see the gears going like mad in his mind as he tried to think of some way out of this. He then stated that all he needed to do was find a job and he'd be alright. We both said no, that wasn't the problem.
So, I explained about the human bio-rhythm behavior in everyone and how his cycle just dipped too low on the down side. He needed to have help leveling this out because when he the down cycle, it was going life-threatening too low.
He abdicated and said that he would call the guy when the guy got back from vacation on Monday.
Then he got himself another beer and hit the back porch.
I started having a bad feeling that it was going to depress him about our talk. So, I went out onto the back porch and said basically that I was worried that our talk was going to make him depressed and that he shouldn't dwell on it. Then I said that at the end of the day his mom and I were not doctors and we didn't know exactly what was wrong and it could be something extremely simple. No sense in worrying about the appointment because really all he would be doing is just dumping his problems onto this guy. Then the guy would help him sort through it all and possibly have him get some tests - physical tests.
That seemed to make him feel better. (So I guess it was worth freezing my a$$ off out there on the deck for that particular thirty minutes.)
I could see the gears going like mad in his mind as he tried to think of some way out of this. He then stated that all he needed to do was find a job and he'd be alright. We both said no, that wasn't the problem.
So, I explained about the human bio-rhythm behavior in everyone and how his cycle just dipped too low on the down side. He needed to have help leveling this out because when he the down cycle, it was going life-threatening too low.
He abdicated and said that he would call the guy when the guy got back from vacation on Monday.
Then he got himself another beer and hit the back porch.
I started having a bad feeling that it was going to depress him about our talk. So, I went out onto the back porch and said basically that I was worried that our talk was going to make him depressed and that he shouldn't dwell on it. Then I said that at the end of the day his mom and I were not doctors and we didn't know exactly what was wrong and it could be something extremely simple. No sense in worrying about the appointment because really all he would be doing is just dumping his problems onto this guy. Then the guy would help him sort through it all and possibly have him get some tests - physical tests.
That seemed to make him feel better. (So I guess it was worth freezing my a$$ off out there on the deck for that particular thirty minutes.)
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
The Story, Thus Far
Last week, after dealing with my stepson's meth addiction on and off for two years, we finally came to the realization that the meth has brought out bi-polarism and then even worse, he has plunged head-long into schizophrenia - possibly both paranoid and delusional. This is not even CLOSE to being a close call. This boy talks to the voices, curses like a sailor with Tourette-syndrome with NO recognizable sentence structures at all. As example of the gibberish, the other day he said, "Fork! Garbage bat voice want sub force talk! Lies!" Now, you tell me if I'm right or not.
So, when he was at his worst, I asked him if he would voluntarily allow me to get him help getting the voices out of his head - you know, the ones that are controlling everything. He pleaded for me to do it. So, his momma and I drove him to our nearest county hospital where we spent 10 FREAKIN hours going from one triage to another. We finally made it to the psyche-ward - interestingly on floor 13, I kid you not - and he was very tired. (Duh! Spent 10 hours sitting on our hands waiting... and the poor boy's paranoia had kept him up for days at this point!) Anyway, he was laid out across a couple of chairs in the waiting room for the psyche-ward catching a couple of minutes of shut-eye. A cop walks into the room, streaks over to him, smacks him in the head with rolled up papers and yells at him for sleeping. That set him off - as it would any NORMAL person! He immediately started gibbering and un-volunteered himself. *rolling eyes* 10 hours wasted by a forkin cop. If I ever see that pig-licker, I'll kick the apple into his teeth!
*sigh*
So, we dejectedly drive back home with my stepson gibbering his nonsense into my ear the entire way. When we got home, we gave him two Tylenol PMs and he conked out. My wife and I got some shut-eye while he was down.
Later that evening, he was still gibbering and talking to the voices. He was making crazy declarations like "I hate you for loving me! You're just going to have 1013 my a$$ because I'm never going to let them hypnotize me!" So, I told him that we would try to get him some help a different way. Figuring that if I called into the crisis line, told them what was going on, they - yes THEM - would send out a mobile psyche to the house. THEN, my stepson would spout his gibberish and delusional rants in front of said psycho, I mean Psychologist, who would immediately 1013 him.
Would it be THAT easy!?!?!? Ummm, I don't think so. She and her plainclothes-cop sidekick showed up THREE hours later and my stepson would not say a word in their presence. Not one word. Psyche packs it all up and they move on up the road.
That's when I figured out one of the small cues that he does when he is coming up out of the depths of the paranoid-delusions! He started watching TV again!
Anyway, after psycho and her fairy left, we talked with him for like an hour, slowly moving the subject off of him and onto other people who have been helped by therapy, etc. By the end of the conversation, he was completely normal. Completely! Go figure.
Now our plan is to try to get him to make an appointment with a local outpatient place that can suck up the no payment-option and hopefully get him diagnosed and on the right drug and in therapy BEFORE his next death-defying sludge into the world of nightmares.
*sigh*
So, when he was at his worst, I asked him if he would voluntarily allow me to get him help getting the voices out of his head - you know, the ones that are controlling everything. He pleaded for me to do it. So, his momma and I drove him to our nearest county hospital where we spent 10 FREAKIN hours going from one triage to another. We finally made it to the psyche-ward - interestingly on floor 13, I kid you not - and he was very tired. (Duh! Spent 10 hours sitting on our hands waiting... and the poor boy's paranoia had kept him up for days at this point!) Anyway, he was laid out across a couple of chairs in the waiting room for the psyche-ward catching a couple of minutes of shut-eye. A cop walks into the room, streaks over to him, smacks him in the head with rolled up papers and yells at him for sleeping. That set him off - as it would any NORMAL person! He immediately started gibbering and un-volunteered himself. *rolling eyes* 10 hours wasted by a forkin cop. If I ever see that pig-licker, I'll kick the apple into his teeth!
*sigh*
So, we dejectedly drive back home with my stepson gibbering his nonsense into my ear the entire way. When we got home, we gave him two Tylenol PMs and he conked out. My wife and I got some shut-eye while he was down.
Later that evening, he was still gibbering and talking to the voices. He was making crazy declarations like "I hate you for loving me! You're just going to have 1013 my a$$ because I'm never going to let them hypnotize me!" So, I told him that we would try to get him some help a different way. Figuring that if I called into the crisis line, told them what was going on, they - yes THEM - would send out a mobile psyche to the house. THEN, my stepson would spout his gibberish and delusional rants in front of said psycho, I mean Psychologist, who would immediately 1013 him.
Would it be THAT easy!?!?!? Ummm, I don't think so. She and her plainclothes-cop sidekick showed up THREE hours later and my stepson would not say a word in their presence. Not one word. Psyche packs it all up and they move on up the road.
That's when I figured out one of the small cues that he does when he is coming up out of the depths of the paranoid-delusions! He started watching TV again!
Anyway, after psycho and her fairy left, we talked with him for like an hour, slowly moving the subject off of him and onto other people who have been helped by therapy, etc. By the end of the conversation, he was completely normal. Completely! Go figure.
Now our plan is to try to get him to make an appointment with a local outpatient place that can suck up the no payment-option and hopefully get him diagnosed and on the right drug and in therapy BEFORE his next death-defying sludge into the world of nightmares.
*sigh*
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