Words Matter

Did you miss me last week? Or are you so busy during the holidays that you didn’t notice that I skipped a week? I think that may have been the first week I missed since I started writing three years ago. Or maybe the second.

Let’s just say it has been a rough couple of weeks. Changing Travis’s medications always ends up this way.

On December 6th my blog, “Sitting on the Sidelines” didn’t mention Travis. Then I skipped writing on December 13th. We were in the thick of a low point battling with his mental illness. It was too heavy at the time.

I am not sure if a specific incident set him off. If I had to guess one of the “friends” in his life told him that we were holding him back. That we wanted to control his life. Some of his “friends” work pretty hard at driving a wedge between us. Their problem is that if we are around, it is not as easy to exploit Travis.

One minute we are having a good conversation. He was planning on coming to our house to visit his dog, Sheila, and have dinner with us.

Then less than an hour later he called and lost it with me. Did a “friend” need a ride somewhere? Did Travis tell them he couldn’t because he was heading to our house? Or was it just his mental illness telling him it was not to be a good day, for whatever reason?

I can’t say for sure what happened. What I can say for sure is that he was saying some pretty hateful things to me. I’ve mentioned in the past that when he hurts, he takes it out on us. This isn’t new. But this time around his words were worse than ever. He may not mean them, but they hurt just the same.

Is he capable of understanding the effect his words have? Does lashing out in some way relieve some built up pressure, like a teapot going off?

I am trying hard to set boundaries. And to teach him that his words matter. After trying to help him work through it to no avail I asked him to call me back when he was in a better place. I told him that I loved him and hung up.

But he persisted. He kept calling me back and lashing out. I think I may be sugar-coating it a bit. The truth is that he was being verbally abusive.

I turned my phone off. Unfortunately, that only ramped him up. Several long texts followed. And audio messages. Then calls to Tracy.

I was concerned enough about the content that I forwarded them to his long-term psychiatrist. I did take Travis to get a second opinion from a psychiatrist that practiced holistic methods. She advised me to keep taking Travis to his current psychiatrist for a couple of reasons. She didn’t believe that Travis would follow her natural plan. She was concerned that he wouldn’t take the suggested supplements regularly or follow through with the eating and exercise guidelines.

Which I found interesting, because that would be hard for anyone with mental health struggles.

She also commented that his current psychiatrist takes Medicaid. He could prescribe medication. She felt that Travis was going to need to be on some type of prescription.

I didn’t call 911. We have enough experience with going that route to know that it is a total waste of time and effort. Travis has been taken to the ER on several occasions. Once they find out that he has a psychiatrist that is prescribing his medications they say that there is nothing more they can do. They will not put him on any type of hold.

One time a staff member told me that they can do more once he actually attempts to take his life. To which I responded, what if he gets it right the first time?

When I forwarded Travis’s texts to his psychiatrist, I asked him to admit him to a hospital while they worked through the changes and doses of his new medication. He responded that he had called Travis and that Travis said he was just venting. He said that Travis told him he was just trying to hurt me.

Is that true? Was he in total control of his emotions and just purposely trying to hurt me? Or did he not want to take another trip to the ER?

In any event, he doesn’t want to purposely hurt me when his medications are right.

During this time Travis once again brought up leaving Colorado. He thinks that is the answer to finding happiness. He wants to get away from his friends that are taking advantage of him. And treating him poorly. And get away from us. Because we want to hold him back and control his life. I repeat the things that I have told him before.

His mental illness is going along for the trip. No matter where he lives. I tell Travis that he will encounter people that are a$$holes no matter where he lives. I tell Travis that he has a family that loves him and supports him here. I tell him that team Travis is local. His case manager, his doctors, his therapists are all here. I tell him that some of his benefits are local. That some of the benefits offered in Colorado are not offered in other states.

I tell Travis that if we were trying to control his life he would be living at home. I tell him we are doing all we can to help him live as independently as possible. He’s not hearing me. He is hearing some other voice that is telling him a different story. He believes that voice. Is it the voice of his mental illness? Or some person?

He continues to lash out. Until I tell him ok. Make a plan and let us know where you’re headed. Travis tells me that he needs my help to make a plan. I remind him that if he leaves Colorado I won’t be able to help him like I do now because I am staying here. I tell him that I am not helping him make a plan because leaving Colorado is a bad idea and I don’t support it. We hang up.

When we talk later he asks, “So you’re ok with me moving out of Colorado?”

I told him yes. Travis replied, “Mom, did you hear her? Glenda said I can come.”

Travis’s birth mom was on the call. Is she the voice? We talked for two hours. During the conversation he called her mom and me Glenda. It sounded weird, I’m not going to lie.

Travis’s birth mom said that she didn’t have room for him. That he could stay with a neighbor for a bit. He would need to find a job and get his own place. She said that she didn’t have money to feed him. Or to help him in any way. I told her that she would need to do the paperwork to keep his benefits going. She said he could do the paperwork himself. I told her that if he was able to do the paperwork he wouldn’t need the benefits.

Travis did visit her for about a week a couple of years ago. He had been talking to her on Facebook and his phone but had never met her. Honestly, by his report it didn’t go well. Did he forget?

I’m confident that without our intervention he will end up homeless if he goes there. What about his health? Is someone going to take him to a pulmonologist? A hematologist? To get a therapeutic blood draw once a month? To a psychiatrist? A therapist?

His birth mom is the first one to admit that his mental health struggles are genetic. How can she possibly take care of his needs when she is dealing with her own? Is his dna bond to her so strong that he is willing to give up the home that we provide for him?

When I see homeless people on the street I often wonder what their story might be. I’m convinced that it revolves around mental illness and/or addiction. The addiction happens when they try self-medicating the mental illness. I don’t believe people choose to be homeless. If someone says they chose it, my belief is that is their mental illness speaking.

I wonder what happened to their family? Are they worried about their loved one? Did they do everything in their power to help their loved one?

Maybe yes. Maybe no.

What I am coming to realize is that you can deeply love your family member and do everything in your power to help them, and it may still not be enough. Travis has told me with his words that he is unhappy here. I believe that he will be unhappy anywhere. But he doesn’t.

What I have learned from our many years of trying to unturn every stone is that he tells us with his words how much he is hurting. And then he shows us with his actions. He has thrown things, flipped over furniture, punched holes in walls, punched dents into cars…

When the psychiatrist says that he believes Travis when he says he is just venting, I am surprised. He sees Travis for a thirty minute visit every three months. Not the same as parenting him for twenty-eight years. The health facility that he works for has a Crisis Stabilization Unit. The Crisis Stabilization Unit is a short-term mental health residential facility in Fort Collins serving all of Larimer County. Those in a mental health crisis can stay for up to five days to receive intensive therapy, including psychiatric and nursing services. Group and individual sessions are offered daily.

We were not offered this placement. Is Travis’s mental health not bad enough? I felt like our most recent experience was a crisis situation. How does one decide? The psychiatrist increased the dose of his new medication. This hasn’t helped with medications in the past, but…

Folks, believe me when I say our system is broken.

Travis is unable to make sound decisions. That is why we are his legal guardians. We know him leaving Colorado is not a good decision. But trying to make him stay to him feels like we are controlling him.

I told Travis that I would put him on a plane to his birth mom’s location. He said flying gives him anxiety. I said I would buy him a train ticket. He wants to drive. This is the same boy that got off on a wrong exit here locally and ended up in the middle of nowhere. I shared that he was not taking his car as he wouldn’t have the funds to pay for his car insurance, maintenance and gas.

I told Travis and his birth mom that it may be hard to get a ticket during the holidays.

Before all of this chaos I had made an appointment for Travis to meet a new therapist. I attended the first session with him, after the chaos. After he told me to get out of his life. That’s a topic for another blog! The therapist asked Travis at the end if he wanted to continue to see him regularly and Travis said yes.

But wait. Isn’t he leaving Colorado?

One time when Travis was a young boy I sent him to his room and told him to not come out until it was clean. He proceeded to start pacing at the door like a caged animal. Once I realized what was going on, I rephrased my request.

Is it possible that now that he knows he can leave he doesn’t necessarily want to?

Or could it be the higher dose of medication the last couple of days? There is just no way to know.

Later that day we were talking and something else came up about doing something together in the future. I’m trying to remember what it was, but my aging brain won’t allow it. I told him that I thought he wanted me to buy him a train ticket to leave. And he said, only if it’s a round trip ticket.

Deep sigh.

Travis was telling me a story about a friend saying some really mean things to him. He said his friend apologized later but it didn’t take away the sting of the harsh words. My reply? “Gee, I know exactly how that feels.”

And then we had a conversation about how much words matter. We talked about how important it is to be careful with our words because once they are said they cannot be unsaid and once they are heard they cannot be unheard. An apology helps but an apology it is not magic.

As for me, I finally made an appointment with a therapist. I start the first week of January. Speaking of magic, hopefully she can work some with me!

“Don’t mix bad words with your bad mood. You will have many opportunities to change a mood, but you will never get the opportunity to replace the words you have spoken.” - Author Unknown

“Be careful with your words. Once they are said they can only be forgiven, not forgotten.” - Author Unknown