If Moms had Blogs

After all the self-doubt of the past 6 months, my daughter (MD) decided to go back to high school. She wanted to graduate with her class -- most she had known since preschool.

We met with school officials who congratulated her on meeting all her requirements for re-entry and talked of putting the past behind her and starting fresh. She was excited. I was relieved. Now we could get back to normal.

She shopped for fall clothes, and had her hair cut and colored in anticipation of the first day. She had a good day and people told her she looked so different -- in a positive way. She purchased all the required notebooks and school supplies for all her classes, and I visited each of her classes at open house to make sure I was on top of things this year. I let her know I was impressed with her and all the work she was prepared to do this year. She had two English classes (11th and 12th), US History (11th), Trigonometry, Chemistry, AP Art Portfolio, and a Media Design class -- no study periods. Secretly, I was very nervous.

She was just ending her ADD study and counseling and since she had been diagnosed, we had an appointment to have her try ADD medication to help her concentration in school and hopefully lessen her desire to smoke pot to calm down.

During the first week I received a call at work from the guidance counselor -- MD was having some sort of emotional breakdown and they wanted someone to come pick her up. She had looked out the school window and saw a police car parked next to hers and felt they were targeting her and she freaked out. The guidance counselor gave me the number of a pyschologist. In a private phone conversation, the guidance counselor mentioned she felt there was something going on -- depression, bipolar or anxiety -- and we should make that appointment as soon as possible.

Wednesday of the following week her Dad got a call from the new school nurse. She wanted to excuse MD to go home and get a change of clothes (monthly woman's issue). He gave permission. He didn't realize that this was a ploy she had used with the nurse from last year.

The nurse called me two days later to apologize that she hadn't checked on MD's arrival back at school that afternoon, but she just found out that she never did check back in. That very morning I had sensed that she might be planning to skip school (her clothing gave her away), so I called the school to see if she was there. She wasn't.

The Principal called five minutes later and asked if I had known she was out of school. My answer was no. He then asked if I knew she was out of school the day before, and unfortunately I didn't. The nurse incident was Wednesday, and that was the last morning she was in school. She was now suspended for three days.

The day she went back to school I received a call at work. She was crying hysterically in the girl's bathroom that she couldn't breathe, she had to leave, she just couldn't stay there anymore. She was having another panic attack or breakdown. The sound in her voice scared me. If I didn't give permission, she was going to walk out and risk getting suspended again. We talked, but there was no reasoning with her. She didn't want to quit school or change schools, but somehow convinced herself that if she kept showing up she'd make it to the end of year.

Her Dad ended up getting her from school and spending the day with her, trying to make her realize she needed to make a definitive choice.

If you are ever suicidal DO NOT search for a mental health professional. It will drive you over the edge for good.

In our experience, it will be their day off, their vacation or lunch hour when you call. You will either need to meet with or speak to an intake person first in a social service agency or play telephone tag with someone in private practice. Since they all keep their own schedules, they seem to find it unnecessary to have additional office help.

You will wait an average of 4 weeks to get an appointment, spill your gut-wrenching history at the first appointment and then wait another three weeks before you can be seen regularly in their full schedule.

If you think antidepressants might help, they can only be prescribed by a Psychiatrist or licensed Physician, however neither have time to counsel you or diagnose you in their 15-minute time slots. Those are reserved for med checks. You must be referred by a Psychologist or Social Worker after a few appointments with them. If you do get that referral, be prepared to start the appointment process all over again.

We are still in the finding-the-right-counselor phase.

The summer was a bit of relief for us, as everyone else was out of school too. It was normal and average to work a summer job, hang out with friends and enjoy time off.

In the midst of all that, there were weekly drug counseling appointments and medical testing for the ADD study. My daughter decided very early on that she was on the placebo, and no longer took the pills assigned to her. She would fill out her usage log in the car on the way to appointments and dump the pills in her pocketbook to mingle with the tobacco crumbles and gum wrappers. It wasn't up to me, it was her responsibility and one they said she could manage because she was 17.

She missed more than a few appointments or cancelled at the last minute, but because she was doing them a favor by being in their study, they were always kind and compassionate to any excuses or current dramas. I'd always get a call 20 minutes AFTER she missed an appointment and could only do my best to reach her and leave messages. During the last four weeks of the study, they started including me in the appointment process, and left me reminders of the date and time. I guess they finally figured that 17 year-old pot smokers with ADD aren't always the most reliable people to deal with.

In order to be allowed back into school, she had to take urine drug tests every other month to be submitted to a lab. I'd pick up the official results (received in 3-5 days) and send them by certified mail by a certain date to the school and also to the court. A few times she missed or cancelled the appointments, or worse yet they would come back positive for marijuana. That would throw me into a tizzy of making another appointment, rushing the results, and running to the post office. She wasn't sure during this time if she even wanted to go back to school, but this process was the only thing keeping that door open and worth my effort.

I wish I could say she was actually free of pot, but instead we learned that she'd scurry the day before to buy a $50 herbal remedy at GNC that somehow helped her "pass" the test. There was always a notation that her creatinine levels were low, which could result in a false negative. Each time the school accepted the results.

She couldn't understand why I wasn't happy about the "clean" drug tests as long as the school accepted them. I saw it as cheating the system and didn't want to give my stamp of approval on that method. I saw her use of pot as the beginning of her downfall -- the grades, lack of motivation, and the reason she was expelled and arrested in the first place. I wanted her to stop.


One counselor we saw for the possibility of depression/bi-polar told us that there were worse things someone can do than smoke pot. He had clients with much more serious problems. "See, even he doesn't think it's a big deal", my daughter grinned. I was furious that he would make that type of casual statement in front of her. I let him know that although there are many kids and adults who do smoke pot, it is ILLEGAL and the reason my daughter was expelled from school and arrested. So, pot got her where she was today, and it shouldn't be viewed lightly. Luckily, she decided after one more appointment that she didn't like him and we went in search of another counselor to diagnose her.

That's what I like to call my way of dealing with things. Just floating along the surface of things. I compartmentalize my life and try not to focus on all things at once or I'm convinced I would just explode. Moms invented multi-tasking, and I'm no different. I can do a million tasks in one day, however, it's the accompanying emotions I need to tuck away in their own little chamber.

When my cell phone vibrates at work, it's usually not a good thing. I'm not a big phone talker and my family knows not to call with the little things. When I answer and absorb what I'm hearing on the other end, I take a deep breath, formulate a plan and then know I can do nothing from where I am. It will need to wait until I've finished the appointments and meetings of the day and once I am on my way home I can begin to deal with it.

It's sometimes like living a double life. Trying not to attract attention, not letting anyone know what is happening. Don't want to appear distracted or incapable to higher ups. Emotions can be seen as weakness.

I've been fortunate to have been able to work part-time jobs or temporary jobs as my daughter was growing up -- sometimes taking on a full-time job for a couple of years when I wanted to purchase a house or like now while my husband is in a mid-life career change and a full-time college student. The only problem with only staying in one job for only a year or two or three, is that you are always proving yourself, never getting to get that cozy, secure, this is my job feeling, and I can relax a little bit. I've never really achieved that balance between family and full-time work -- one always suffers at the expense of the other. There's just not enough of me or my energy to go around. Work can fire me, my family cannot. I prefer my family, but need my job.

I miss the times I spent being a stay-at-home-mom, even when it was only part-time. My house was cleaner, my family was better fed, and I just had more of myself to give to others. Maybe I just had more time and emotional reserve to handle crisis then. I've always envied the physical and emotional energy of others -- I must have been napping the day God handed out those traits. :) How some women do it all is a mystery to me.