I went to see a local lawyer Thursday morning before working offsite for the day. Just stopped by. I'd called a couple of times over the last month and would get the answering machine. I know her husband, the lawyer, from work. He is a member who treated me like a bartender for awhile. Stopping by to chat about his marriage and attraction to cute clerks at the court house. At some point I told him I was not his bartender, kindly, and the visits became fewer. When he left his wife, he stopped by to chat about this and the woman he is now with. My perception of him and admiration for his wife shifted. I was grateful she, his ex, took the time to listen to my woes. For $3,500 she can assist me in seeking guardianship of my son. Although I recognize, as I hide in my room tonight, the possible urgency in pursuing this option, I am wary in doing so after one visit to one lawyer. My local NAMI meeting is Monday and I told her I needed time to discuss this with God and others. She understood. Grateful she didn't look at me like I was the one who needed help after mentioning prayer.

When I came home this evening I went straight to my room. It was after 8pm and I just assumed it was time to be still. Well, my door was locked or so I thought. Went looking for the little key thingie above J. door, I found it while he was gone weeks ago, but no longer there. Went back and noticed the door frame seemed wrong. My door was not locked. The door frame was pushed out in one place and the door was stuck, not locked. Took a little work but I got it open. J. came in the back door about that time and when I asked what had happened to my door 'I don't know. I didn't do it.' Yeah. Ok. Right. Found the hammer and fixed it as best I could. It's tight but closes and locks now. No damage to cheap inner door. Not sure what the story is. The door opens in to my room so someone would have had to push it, pretty darn hard, with it closed to push out the frame like it was.

A couple of hours ago the banging and slamming began again. Like the other night. The dog next door began barking and the slamming just got worse. At one point he was doing something in the kitchen. Kept expecting to hear breaking but an hour ago when I heard a slam loud enough to really shake the house, and then another, I cautiously stepped out to risk finding out what the hell was going on. I punched 911 on my cell and left it laying on my bed. The kitchen smelled like burnt toast. Stood there for a few minutes, right outside my bedroom door praying, but nothing else happened so I retreated.

It is so hot in this house. I am grateful S. will be here tomorrow rather than Sunday to help me install an AC for my room. This will also white noise the destruction too.

He is psychotic and I'm hesitating to do the hard stuff. Praying. Lots of praying. And staying out of his way. A friend of his came by last night. I was leaving and J. was not home yet from where ever he was walking so we got a chance to talk. The friend was coming by to buy an iPhone from J. I paid, or am paying, for that damn iPhone. It was one of his last 'unauthorized' charges on the credit card of mine he had for college expenses. When J. got home I asked him how he thought selling something he did not pay for was ok. He needs $130 for an alternator. Will I give it to him? Sounds like a personal problem. From then on he mocked me. Physically. I left. Humiliated. His friend called me 15 minutes later to tell me it did not go well. He would not pay J. $130 for the phone because it did not have everything which came with it. I can't believe he bought it after telling him it was not J.'s to sell. And after asking me the difference between schizophrenia and schizo-affective began telling me J. did hear voices, he was paranoid. He could spend 2 hours telling me stuff. Thanks but I've heard enough. His girlfriend who is going to school to be a 'doctor' and works with homeless people in Atlanta who are mentally ill offered to go with me next Wednesday. Again thanks but no thanks. Don't need any hand holding. I'm scared. Really scared. For J. When I got home, after 9pm, I sat in the driveway in my car talking to my sponsor. J. was pacing in the yard. I heard doors slamming and finally went inside. It went on for about 20 minutes? but eventually got quiet. I did it different. Jut stayed out of his space, in my room, and waited. Praying. Breathing. Praying.

staying in today

Hard to believe a month ago my post was about J. being 'gone again'. In therapy this am I really didn't know what I would talk about. Home has been calm and quiet since last Wednesday when topic of 'yea must seek help' was again put out there. So Dr. B. did most of the chatting, on my dime, and I worked at being OK with this. I've come to Big City Bread for breakfast. Other than my gMac about to quit due to no power on the patio I'm great. There is a lovely breeze and the birds are chirping. I'll make a meeting at noon and from there to Panera for some quality work in a serene space. I've gained a little hope each night as I've noticed J. is eating the blueberries, oat bread, etc. I picked up earlier this week for me. If he is eating like his old self his illness is hopefully not as in charge as has been the case for several months. Breath while I can. Stay calm and carry on. :)

gone again

He is gone again. Thanks to individuals who care I know he has rented a car and gone to the beach. His friend T. "Well, he was ok last time so maybe he'll be ok this time too." Yeah, maybe he will be. Had my first therapy session Thursday. Hope is available again. And I'm enjoying my house being quiet. I can sit at the kitchen table with Van Morrison playing softly and journal my way to spiritual wellness. This is what is needed to survive loving my son as he continues resisting treatment. I must not resist my own.

disconcerting

J is out on the back deck talking to himself. He has been for 20 minutes. Is it sane if he states he is talking to himself? or closer to sanity than not?

His hair is scary! It is styled with natural hair grease I think. Reminds me of the professor in Back to the Future. Although it is sticking straight out it has a pattern, a style to it.

He could not sleep because I was in the office chair which creaks as I move around. Is his hearing really that sensitive?

Hit my knees to pray after listening to his chatting through my bathroom window.

He cut the front yard. I asked and he did it. Wish I could get the some help with the broken mail box. Oh well, grateful he is safe today.

He has been telling me he loves me, that he would miss me, over the last couple of days. Don't want to go there when I wonder why.

I dunno

It got physical tonight. Out of the blue. I was trying to go to bed early, get that blood pressure down, and J. was going in/out of house. Then he turned on the a/c. It's not hot enough to need a/c when a fan will work. A fan drills in to the back of his head. Confronted that statement. He became even more aggressive and telling me he was trying to die. He doesn't care if this disease is robbing him of his future. That I am smoking meth. That the dream I had in which his grandmother was yelling at me ... I don't remember this at all. None of it made sense, what he was yelling, so although that scared the yunno out of me I choose to let it go. I reached in the sofa cushions for the phone to dial 911. He was in my face spitting words. Not a good idea? He wrestled me to the ground to get the phone. He was so aggressive I was trying to minimize my movement, go with his, so I would not get too hurt. I think my glasses got a little warped and other than some skin burns on my forearms I'm ok. This is the second time in his life he has physically scared me. The first was years ago when he wanted to leave and was pissed so I took his keys. This had to be as bad or worse because today he is not himself. The anger is chemically fueled. Tried to call a friend, it is late, so I just left a voice mail. Decided to do the left foot, right foot, breath thing and called Behavioral Advantage crisis line. I wanted to know how I go about getting long term care past the state hospital 10 day stay. She had no idea. None. Nadda. Did not even have a direction for me to go next. Amazing. So basically she listened to me cry, said she could connect me with 911 (I told her I knew how to dial 911), and then told me to have a good night.

OK, he is quiet now. Has been since about five minutes after the 'show down'. Maybe I can get some sleep now. Tomorrow is a new day. Prayer, prayer and more prayer.

walking through the fear

Took today off. It is amazing what I can accomplish given the time. The one thing I wanted to begin again today was reading Surviving Schizophrenia. We've been in a holding pattern for weeks. This s*** is hard and P. may say I'm not alone but no one is stepping up to visit or make calls or ... So in reading I am putting in to practicing left foot, right foot, breath, etc. When I was getting a shower this morning J. was in and out the french doors. While he was on the deck I could hear him talking to him self. Muttering. Disturbing.

Of note from today's reading:

• Most show a mild loss of IQ. The IQ is not necessarily impaired but their ability to demonstrate their IQ is impaired. As I read over the Onset and Early Symptoms it was encouraging to recognize very little of who J. was in childhood. Yes, he has always been different. Kinder, more in touch with his own interest than peer stuff. He was right on time with walking and talking. Good coordination. Awesome academic achievement (other than the ADD sign of being a little to helpful for years :) He had many friends but not in high school. By then home was a war zone so not sure if this was due to an early sign or the environment.
• Predictors of Outcome offers hope. 'Patients who are more likely to have a good outcome are those who were considered to be relatively normal prior to getting sick...Patients with the best outcome also have no history of relatives with schizophrenia...If there is a history of depression or manic-depressive psychosis in the family, the person is more likely to have a good outcome...A person who is first diagnosed with schizophrenia at age fifteen is likely to have a poorer outcome than a person with the onset at age twenty-five.

Why is hope so necessary? Because with out it I am immobilized. I can't stay in this holding pattern and practice good self-care for myself. I can't help J. if I'm beating myself up about my shouldas, waiting on the wouldas.

• Here is the sad news 'The type of onset is an important predictor of recovery, with the best outcomes occurring in those patients whose onset is the most sudden...Awareness of one's illness (insight) is a very good sign, whereas lack of awareness (anosognosia) is a bad sign.

Enough for now.