Re-Post & Update: Selfish Whining

I (Russel) included a selfish whining post in the first batch when we created the blog, but then I deleted it when Chelsey started to improve. She was aware of the blog and chose not to read it, but I was worried about her reaction to my whining if she ever did see it. After revisiting it with Beth, we decided we want the original post back on the blog. Below the original post, we added an update.

Original Post: Consolidated Selfish Whining, 7/11/12

Selfish thoughts about the impact on ME-ME-ME are probably there at some level most of the time, but here are highlights all at once to avoid pelting you and boring you indefinitely.

First Sleepless Night. Before admission, we spent several mostly sleepless nights in Chelsey’s room with a mattress blocking her door. This is what I wrote after the first stinking night.

I am weary and overwhelmed. The pain, sadness, and tangled heart of Chelsey. The apparently long and multi-faceted treatment process. The low expectations for ultimate long-term outcomes. The commitment of time and resources we don’t have. The 24-hour monitoring and engaging in a make-believe world embedded in barely intelligible speech; it takes a lot of energy and intense concentration to follow her thoughts, and it’s draining even in the best of circumstances when the thoughts are coherent. The expense and endless insurance hassles. The consumption of Beth. The spinning of our life as it revolves around one child’s bottomless needs. I love her and will do everything possible, but I’m weary and would not choose another hill to climb. Mercy. Uncle.

I can’t recall seeing Beth so disconsolate and overwhelmed in many years. She seemed almost numb and barely able to function after the police brought Chelsey home or when we woke up to Chelsey’s wet hair this morning. I’ve done the vast majority of talking in our discussions with Chelsey, and it seems like Beth has been at a loss for words at times. It’s just beyond us. We’re not equipped. (Beth later told me this was the most discouraged she had ever been through all the challenges in Chelsey’s life; for those familiar with Chelsey’s story, you know that’s really saying something.)

Tomorrow’s another day. I’ll just focus on that.

Wrecked and Uncertain Summer Plans. We had plans to visit family in OR, UT and AZ. Beth’s mom’s having a big operation and she wanted to be there before and during that. This is our last chance for a trip with Bo before she leaves home, and we had planned on fun stuff including the Grand Canyon. This is also the last time we’ll have schedule flexibility before we both enter demanding grad programs that will consume us for the next two years. Some of it may still work out, depending on the speed of recovery. Everything is up in the air or already crashed on the ground.

Cosmic Payback. It sucks being on the receiving end of comments similar to those I’ve (Russel) made during my own prior severe depression episodes. Maybe it will help me (you teach best what you most need to learn, right?), but the stress and reminders of my own arguments and past hopelessness does not strike me as particularly helpful right now.

Unknown Future. We’re worried about what the new “normal” will be. Who will Chelsey be? Will we be caring for someone needing constant monitoring for the rest of our lives? We both plan to start grad school in August, and both of us will be gone for much of the day. Will we be able to leave Chelsey alone at all? Beth was already uneasy about that before this funfest began. Does one of us need to forego or postpone school? Will we need in-home support?

Updated Selfish Whining, 8/23/12

Well, yes, all of those whines still ring true to some degree. However, they feel more distant and easier to accept six weeks later. Looking back, the burden got lighter and we got stronger.

• Revisit First Nights. The disconsolate weariness of the first few nights was painful and lasted longer than I would have hoped. This remains high on the list of our biggest challenges ever. Still, it wasn't as bad as we feared. Chelsey's heart is no longer so tangled, we're no longer consumed, and the hill we're climbing is not so steep. Bad stuff passes. Six weeks later, the sun still shines. We even came away with many gifts (more on that in another post).

• Revisit Summer Plans. Our summer plans definitely crashed. This was a crappy summer of hospitals and hardship, and we won't get it back. I can't put a nice spin on that, but changing a summer plan is not the end of the world. 

• Revisit Cosmic Payback. It did indeed suck talking to my own daughter about suicide pros and cons that I had argued from her unhealthy viewpoint in the past. It did trigger unhealthy memories of my own. Still, it was probably very healthy for Chelsey to have a dad with my background and insight. It was probably very healthy for me to discuss such topics with somebody I deeply love from the other side of the conversation. It certainly deepens my empathy for Beth and others dealing with a depressed family member, and it will help me in a counseling career. 

• Back to the Future. The unknown future remains a challenge, but a lot of the uncertainty is already resolved. Chelsey 2 is very similar to Chelsey 1 in all critical respects. She needs monitoring and support, but her new group home and day program provide that better than we had dared to hope. We will both be able to go to school as planned. Plans always change, but our future in many way seems more certain and manageable now than it did before the crisis (more on that in another post).

Beth and I can't think of many new whines six weeks later that did not make the original list. As long as we're venting and purging, though, let's get these points out of our system. 

• The transition from hospital to hotel was scary. It felt like we were just getting thrown out on our own, on the brink of another disaster with nothing certain in our world.

• The hotel stay was icky and stressful. Jim got us a sweet deal on a great place for 3 nights, but the rest was at a low budget, dingy place that focused Chelsey's attention on going home.

• Teeter-totter reactions to the group home have been heart rending. She likes it, then she doesn't. It's good for her, except when it isn't. We feel great about it, except when we're wracked with fear, guilt and doubt.

• The bureaucratic red tape is mind-numbing and time consuming. You need to be street savvy and relentless to get anything done. Managing the initial paper flow and ongoing admin is basically a part-time job. Other parts of life must go to make room.

• Bo did not get much attention and support during an important time in her life. I don't know that she would have wanted anything different, but I did. Sibling impact goes under the radar in mental health crises, but I think we neglect it at our peril - and theirs.

OK, that's it, the exhaustive list of complaints, now purged from our hearts and minds. You'll never hear another gripe from us... well, at least we'll try to only discuss hard stuff in terms of how we're constructively dealing with it or how it has helped us.