Zack stuck it out at the group yesterday - he had no choice. The "Family Services" building is new and built in a remote area...so he had no where to escape to. I will continue to drive him and pick him up as that seems to be the key. No bailing allowed. He hated it. Boring...nobody talks....he doesn't need to be there...getting nothing out of it.....no surprise to me. At 1145 I met him with McDs for his lunch break. He wanted to sit with me and eat it in the car vs with anybody else from the group. No conversation. Maybe just some comfort being with me for that short time. When I left him he was walking to the far dumpster to toss his garbage.... avoiding going near the people sitting on benches outside in the sunshine.
Today he goes back to his group.
Last night I had him make himself a lunch.... that was a project. He kept putting things in the brown bag only to take them out again...he remade his sandwich three times before he was satisfied with it. It was wrapped and unwrapped... I wonder if he'll even eat it today. He looked at me wide eyed and nervous and I asked, "What? What's wrong?" ....to be told a dismissive oh nothing.....but he still had the frightened confused look on his face. Maybe he didn't know what was scaring him....
I went to bed... heard a low voice...a lecturing steady voice coming from Zack's room. My husband was speaking to him about his towel usage. Zack takes three showers a day. OCD...he'd take more if we didn't crack down and only allow three. He shares a bathroom with his sisters....three showers a day is pushing it.... and he uses new towels for each shower...then they wind up dumped on his closet floor. He is a kid after all.
But my husband is sick of the towels....and that they aren't available for the girls to use. I can't keep up with the laundry. The girls take towels out of our bathroom.... But I listened to my husband's hushed voice drone on and on.....that low quiet pissed off voice.... and I thought it doesn't matter. The lecture... the pissed off. Doesn't make any difference to my son that he's being told what not to do.... it doesn't sink in....Zack will look at you - or not - often he cannot even make eye contact- but he'll say a quick "alright... sorry....I won't do it again"....but he will do it again. The steady monotonous words do not reach inside all the other clutter and deafening noise in his mind. He just pretends they do to get the conversation over with. As I listened.. I thought..it matters to me. I wanted to yell "SHUT UP!" and have the whole thing be over....but I kept quiet...tried to be calm..and let my husband do what he feels he has to do...lecture....but what makes my husband so arrogant that he thinks HIS words will get through and make a difference? Is it his ego? Need for control? A power trip? Or.... is he still in some dumb denial about this disease? I feel such aggravation toward both of them. But Zack can't help it for the most part....I still feel it though....
Sweet Penny woke me up with her soft furry face on the side of my bed. Time to get moving.... Zack has his group, the girls and I are getting hair cuts, and then Zack has a psychiatrist appointment. We need to talk about medications. The doctor gave Zack a shot of Sustenna the end of July. It is no longer effective. This is his sixth or seventh anti psychotic med try since January. I'm on a quest to find the magic potion. Wish me luck.
To Be Continued.....
What a ride......who knew?.....
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