I readmitted my son to the adolescent psych unit again today.
I can sleep better knowing that he's safe, but I feel like a failure as a parent. Logically, I know that there is an organic cause for his issues that isn't my fault, but there is this wretched part of me that whispers in my ear "What the fuck is wrong with you? What is it in your DNA that made him this way? What did you do wrong? What could you have done better? What DIDN'T you do for him?"
I think that he's going to have his medication tweaked, and I now that he's not going to be in there for a short stay this time. I warned the staff this time to not let him bullshit them this time.
I'm going back to work next week. I'd taken some time off to try and deal with this stuff, but I need some normality in my life....so I'm going back to work on Monday. I also went to my littlest 'ling's baseball practice this evening. I'm going again Thursday....I'm the beer source this week. I NEED things like that, I NEED the mundane and the routine. If I don't have those things, I feel like I'm simply lurching from one crisis to another. That's not a good thing - not now and not any time, really.
I want to tell you that it doesn't hurt. I can't. It does. It hurts like a motherfucker. But, I'm handling it.
He's safe, and he's getting help. I find great comfort in that.