|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|A couple of weeks back, I wondered to myself when I would get the chance to feel like I used to feel. You know, like before my kidlet got OCD and became depressed and nearly suicidal... Like before my mother started croaking over all the time... Like before my ex-husband began making our already stressful lives just that much more hellish............
Yesterday I realized I was feeling good again. It was wonderful!
My kidlet is feeling much better these days. She's on a good dosage of medication and has a therapist she unloads on each week.
My mother is happily ensconced in her new apartment. We have to shuffle her to and from doctor's appointments, and she's not done unpacking her stuff yet. But she's on the ground floor, in an apartment complex that is tailored to old gomers. She's got her emergency alarm necklace on - and I don't have to worry so much about her right now.
The only worry I have - and I'm not even sure if the problem will materialize - is the ex-husband rearing his ugly head. He hasn't contacted us since - beginning of April. I don't know if he's getting psychiatric help. I don't know if he's purchased a weapon... I just don't know what he's up to. That worries me.
It's Father's Day, and the kidlet decided she would not contact her dad. At first, I felt sorry for him/them - however, I did remember that he was the one who maliciously interfered with her medical/psychiatric care when she needed it the most. He was the one who - Oh Yeah! I never did copy what the psychologist told my lawyer, did I? Okay.... here's a snippet from her letter:
"Kidlet was referred to me from Dr. Z for the psycotheraputic treatment of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. She presented with severe symptoms of inability to control her thoughts and moderate ability to control her compulsions, despite medication. She needed Cognitive Behavioral strategies (CBT) to help her with behavioral management. Her art therapy drawings depicted severe symptoms with a psychotic flavor. Suicidal ideation is a constant. She needs treatment. She made good connection with me, after several theraputic failures with other therapists.
This rapport however, was vitiated by her father when he called me, threatening to "sue" me, insisting his daughter did not need treatment. Over the course of several phone calls in which I tried to explain the reason for the therapy, and the nature of Kidlet's disorder, both my office manager and myself were screamed at, threatened, interrupted, and generally verbally assaulted. It became clear to me that I could not be heard by her father.
I wrote him a letter requesting written input from him, suggesting this mode of communication between him and myself, his daughter's therapist, might prove more productive. He returned the letter, all marked up with unintelligible scribbles and angry remarks."
And that's just from the one doctor.
I really can't feel sorry for somebody who would do that to his daughter - so fuck him and I hope he has a GREAT Father's Day.
At any rate, besides that one thing hanging over my head - I managed to be as relaxed and happy as I've been since last October.
I know things will happen. Nasty, horrific, nerve wracking things will happen. But for these past two days - all I can say is "Whew! Feels great to have my life back!"
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|