When we adopted Hope, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I knew I was too old. I even suspected I had a neurological problem. I was ready. I didn’t sign up for any courses, I found a personal therapist for me. I found a therapist and a psychiatrist for the girls. I lined up Hope’s special ed placement. I even started the paperwork for respite.
There have been glitches in support, but, for the most part , they get resolved. Until this week. Hope raged on Wednesday. It was bad. I ended up bruised and scratched. I went to see my therapist on Thursday. The therapist I found to for me to deal with my junk. It was not a good appointment.
The therapist recommended giving up on Hope. She said it was too hard on me, my husband, and most of all GB. After all these sessions, the woman knows me well enough to play the GB card. I am not giving up on Hope. The rages have gotten farther apart. I have to change things around to protect GB. That was my agenda going into yesterday’s therapy session. It didn’t happen. Instead of support, I got a high pressure sales pitch. It was not helpful.
This morning I am going to get in touch with the agency that helped us keep MK home during her teen years. I am not sure they work with a 5 year old, but if they don’t, I am hoping they can at least point me to a place that does.