Light and Dark

Opposites.  Light and dark, healthy and unhealthy, big and small.  Everything is relative.  It seems that at times, it is easy to distinguish between the opposites, but I am finding every day it gets more difficult with a child with a mental illness.  While on the outside, the child may look fine, reasonably "normal", there can be a war raging on the inside of that same child.  


It's hard to watch any child suffer, much less your own.  One thing I have found most difficult to deal with, is the wealth of advice that come from others about my own children.  If you just did "this" or "that", then things would be better.  I've heard it ALL..."too strict", "too permissive", "too busy", "not busy enough", "shouldn't have homeschooled", "don't put him in school", and the list goes on.  Not only does it come from strangers, but friends and family, too.  Everyone knows more about my child than me.  Even some of the professionals have had less than sage advice.


Right now, unfolding before my eyes, my child is grappling with enormous difficulty.  A difficulty no child should have to suffer through.  He is now in a hospital setting, for a time, for safety reasons, and while there is some relief for the other children, there is none for me.  I worry all the time about these children, and my son in the hospital.  I know that I cannot control the situation, and I must leave much of my faith in God, that He will be with my son.


While we speak every evening, and visit the allowed three times a week, it is dismaying to see the lack of progress, and realize how ill he really is.  There is relief, too, mostly in the form of validation.  I am pleased to see all the testing being done, and the compassion with which many of the professionals handle my son.  I have dealt with this for so long, being the primary one knowing there was an issue, but getting others to see, next to impossible.  Even with testing I had done on my own, progress was very slow.  It is very sad to know the level of advocacy it takes to be taken seriously when talking about a mental illness.


Speaking of dark, that's what this has been, a dark journey for my son, and for our family as well.  But there is light, too.


The "Light" exists in friendships, support, faith and generosity of others.  I have friends who are willing to back me and help me when I need it.  I have a therapist working with me, gratis, because we don't have the resources to pay her at this time.  I have people all over praying for Ryan and our family, and I am so grateful for them.  There are people on my son's "team" of professionals who go way above and beyond to support him, and our family.  I am so grateful for them as well.


This journey began over seven years ago, and is nowhere near its end.  I have struggled, waited, worried and stressed over the situation.  I have been very broken.  I have questioned myself, the mental health profession, and God.  Hearing that the problem is likely "biological" certainly doesn't ease the burden, on my son, or our family.  When I look at my other children, and have another son exhibiting the same behaviors at the same age, I fret, and worry, and pray.  Can I do this again?  How do I do this?


Sometimes, things are too difficult.  I wake up, and realize I don't want to get out of bed for what the day might bring.  But, then, I think of the Horn of Africa, and our adopted son in Ethiopia, and know, however difficult things are here at the moment, we are blessed beyond measure.  It is so easy to give into pity for one's self, but contributing to work for the hardships of others can be a path to balance.  It's okay to feel sad, and angry, and even depressed.  But, move through it, don't avoid it, let yourself grieve and feel pain when it comes, and then re-focus and move forward.


I won't give up.  I have been entrusted with precious gifts of children, and they will have all my will and effort.