fluffy will be 11 in a month. i’m glad to be done with 10. 10 has been a hard year in our house. It started a few months before 10 arrived. it’s now a month before 10 leaves. who knows what 11 will bring–maybe more? maybe less? maybe the same?
it was just a year ago that we tried medication for the first time. the guanfacine knocked him out like a sleeping pill. no good. we tossed that out. the 12.5 mg of zoloft did nothing. at 25 mg, it seemed to help. but did it? hard to say. it seemed to help with a host of things that stem from the anxiety. at 37.5 mg, it was even cloudier. some days, it seemed no different than 25 mg; other days, it seemed to make him more agitated. so we dropped back to 25 mg. but then months past and we honestly couldn’t say that the 25 was doing anything, and if that’s the case, why give it at all? some might say, you ought to have gone even higher, tried 50 mg, 75. 100. maybe. maybe. the whole thing makes me feel sick inside, to tell you the truth.
so. nothing since september when we began working with a new (ostensibly) amazing doctor. weeks and weeks of intake. i won’t go into what happened at the end of that ordeal. we never even got to the medication trial so, thankfully, fluffy was spared that roller-coaster. but the boy needs something. that’s clear. maybe that’s what this whole year has been about, making it crystal clear to us, his parents, that, despite all the very real concerns about psycho-pharmaceuticals, too much of the time, fluffy operates in a fucking hailstorm, poor guy. from where i sit, it looks like a white-out in there, in that beautiful head of his. he needs some help, some all-weather gear, some special goggles. some damn thing.
yesterday was a new day, a new month, a new year. it was also a hard day in this house. i can’t say we dealt with it perfectly. the aggression. it’s hard. in a multitude of ways. i can see that fluffy’s using restraint. he is. but simply put, i don’t like being poked and hit, punched and yelled at. i become weary. i know it’s awful for fluffy, too.
i did a bunch of clearing out. the tree came down. the decorations put away. it was a fine holiday but i’m all done it, ready for a new beginning. i found the thanksgiving turkey wishbone behind the dish drainer and after dinner, fluffy and i each made a wish.just before we gave it a yank, fluffy said, shall we tell our wishes?
sure, i said.
i got the bigger piece. i wanted him to get it, to get the bigger side and his wish.
maybe we both wished for the same thing, i said.
what did you wish for? he asked.
that the new doctor will find a medicine that really helps you feel more in balance, i said.
i wished for a solution to the hitting problem, he said.
we looked at each other. he pointed first to his head, then to mine and beautiful grin appeared. “hive mind, mom!”