cuttingdepressionfrustrationreactive attachment disorderThe Girl

Deja Vu All Over Again

Chrisa Hickey5 comments1819 views

I swear I’ve had a post with this title before.

Spent the day back at the psychiatric hospital with The Girl, again.  She’s not trying to become anorexic anymore. No, someone noticed her arm today when her sleeve was pulled up, and up and down her left arm are cuts.  She admitted to the school counselor that she has been cutting for a few days.  He called Tom, I left work, and we headed down to the hospital for an intake evaluation.

Back in November she was evaluated because she wouldn’t eat, and said she was trying to become anorexic.  After that assessment, and 10 weeks of weekly therapy, the doctors came to the determination we did on day one.  She’s not anorexic.  She hasn’t gained or lost a single pound in a year.  She does seem to have depression, however.  So now, this latest issue is another sign of it.

Again, we decided on a day program, but this time not an eating disorder program or a self-injury program, but for depression and anxiety.  She will start later this week, and they estimate will be there, every day, 8:30-2:30, for about three weeks.  The depression, coupled with RAD, means she’s harder to treat because she doesn’t trust anyone and prefers not to share.  I hope this helps get her / us on the right track.  Time will tell.

Meanwhile, I am starting to wonder if the hospital is going to name a wing after us.  It’s not the sort of place I enjoy being recognized on sight.

5 Comments

  1. Chrisa, Nobody really knows what you all are going through except ones who live it each day. I have a 29 yr old son who for the last 10 yrs it has been 6 trips inpatient and countless in the ER or crisis. Just moved from one state to another and getting services is not easy. It is like starting over again. In the meantime I try to have the strength until appointment for intake and re-evaluation for meds all over again. It is not a easy life.

  2. My son has been through inpatient, outpatient and residential. It is like a broken record and not a song I like to hear. I wish I could change the song every day. Kick the record player. Shatter that f'n record into a million pieces. Someday I hope my son has the courage and strength to cut a new album. I'll buy a million copies.

  3. Erika, it's people like you, Angela, Jennifer, Jenny, and so many others going down this same twisted road that keep me going. You are more important to me than I can ever adequately express.

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