Last night, we were winding up our family room time and about to head to the bedroom when the stepson showed up in the room. He hit the couch and played with the cat for a bit and he seemed a little agitated like he had to get something off of his chest.
This is when I stopped what I was doing and really took a look at his face. His eyes are very tired looking. They are darting around. His speech is almost too bright. I knew that our little problem was back at that point. So, I asked him if he had been having problems sleeping lately. He said that he had and also that his diet was not very good either. (he's been hanging out with his buddies for 2 or 3 weeks almost straight.)
So, we were about to walk out of the room and he brought up that he wanted his mom to find a place that would prescribe the medicines he needed. She asked him which ones those were. His answer? *my jaw hitting floor here* "Those psychotic medicines, nerve pills, the ones for schizophrenia. Please make me an appointment for tomorrow so I can get the pills tomorrow!"
I was ECSTATIC! He just admitted, for the first time while more or less in his right mind, btw, that he needed help, that he has Schizophrenia, and that he thought talking to someone and getting meds would help him with that.
YESSSSS!
More as it happens.
