Well, things have moved on, as they have a habit of doing, if we wait for long enough.
At last, some good news about J. He was returned, unwillingly, to the foster placement. Soc Servs are not going to find him a new placement, so he had a stark choice of two options. The foster placement, or semi-independent living in London. Clearly he wasn’t going to choose that. He kicked up a hell of a stink and required two social workers, the foster carer, my Mum and eventually, two police to persuade him to return, but return he did.
Because he had been talking about suicide, a lady came from CAMHS to talk to him the same day, to make sure he was alright. A meeting for an assessment was set up at CAMHS and took place yesterday. He was up all day from breakfast to dinner. He did not raise objections to going to CAMHS, in fact he went willingly. He had been chatty at dinner. He’s OK. The fuss he had made was out of proportion, unsurprisingly.
And of course, I was proved right in retrospect that he shouldn’t be allowed to stay at my Mum’s any extra time. I had to call her every day, sometimes twice, to make sure she was alright, and he just regressed into the comatose state he’d been in for a year while living at hers before. So it didn’t do either of them any good.
We’re actually quite lucky with the foster carer in my opinion. She’s no fool. She’s very no-nonsense, mature and down-to-earth and seems to have a lot of commonsense and insight into the situation. He knows only too well that doing absolutely fxxx-all is not an option at her house. He will have his internet removed at night if he doesn’t play the game. He needs to leave the house sometimes, spend time downstairs, be a bit sociable, keep his room tidy, attend to his personal hygiene, get dressed in the morning and when an appointment is made for him, keep it.
I went down to see them last weekend. I was so worried and brooding over him that I just wanted to be close where I could see him and know that he was alright. He was quite chatty and sociable with me and my Mum. He showed his best side, asking an inordinate number of questions, including, at 6am in the morning, whether there was life after death, and if there was such a thing as spiritual healing (he was sceptical)!!
Mum and I went to Canterbury on Sunday for a mooch around the shops (window shopping really) and lunch out in Wagamama, my first time there. I thought the food was lovely, but felt overwhelmed by how full it was of those fearful creatures, other human beings. I don’t think I would willingly go back, and would certainly never eat there alone.
So at last, some positive news, and I am so relieved that he’s no longer at my Mum’s. She has gone off to Wales for a few days to stay with my aunt and uncle. The Bengal kittens are in care till she gets back. A total break for her and a much-needed change of scene. The stand-off with the police etc was terribly hard on her. I have never heard her so beaten down. She felt J was ‘a suffering creature’ and that she was a coward and could do nothing. She wanted to crash her car and just be out of the whole situation. That’s serious talk for my Mum.
As for me, I came back on the Sunday, thinking my presence at the stand-off would be surplus to requirements. I wished I could have somehow taken my mother’s place, but that was just not possible. I would be better able to cope, knowing in my heart of hearts that he was better off at the foster placement.
I love my son. I don’t always like him. But I will stand by him to the best of my ability. No one is more affected by his being and doing. Somewhere deep down he is still my beautiful boy.
It’s nice to be able to affirm that. I feel better today. This afternoon I am off to my Social Psychology course at the Mary Ward Centre. It’s even a sunny day as if to affirm my better mood.
I have help. And so does J. We can get through this. None of us is ever as alone as we may feel.
Lots of love folks. Zoe xxx