Beautiful Boy

"And she loved a little boy very, very much -- even  more than she loved herself."     Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree. 

I said in my last post that I'd write soon about my boy. So much revolves around Hope these days, but there is another who holds half of my heart, and who is affected by all of this. So far, I've referred to him only with phrases like "the little guy" or "baby bro," but I've decided to call him Isaac. This is not his name, just as Hope is not my daughter's name. (The internet is such a big place, and I feel safer not using their real names.) Isaac means laughter, and my little man still has so much laughter. He brings so much joy to all of us. <3

Isaac is nine years old, with light brown hair and blue eyes, and a light dusting of freckles across the tops of his cheeks. He is sensitive and thoughtful, funny and playful, and is the sweetest boy I've ever known. He is great with animals and little kids, and while he's shy around new kids, he will talk the ear off of any adult who cares to chat. He loves sports -- watching them, playing them, learning about history and statistics. He loves to cook, helps with dinner every night, and can make a few simple meals alone. He likes video games, swimming, roller coasters, comedy shows and movies, the Game Show Network (that one cracks me up,) and hanging out with his friends. 

Looking at the last five months through the eyes of my baby is heartbreaking. Home was stable and loving, and life was easy. He had an older sister who loved him fiercely, and with whom he had an amazing relationship. They've always been close, they don't fight or bicker like some sibling sets, and they have always really enjoyed each other. Then she started becoming distant. She wasn't mean to him, but would say she needed space much more often than ever before. She rarely wanted to play with him, would ask him to leave if he came in her room. His feelings were hurt by this change. Then the whole world fell apart. He woke up one morning to parents who had been up nearly all night, dealing with a crisis. We certainly couldn't pretend that nothing was going on, and so he was given a simple explanation about Hope having some very serious thoughts and impulses. All of a sudden, life is weird and scary. We're locking up household items that could be used for harm, signaling that she is potentially dangerous. We're making calls, making appointments, talking things over with relatives who are in medical and psych fields. We tried to keep things calm on the exterior, but he knew there was a lot going on. Hope didn't help things by being totally honest with him. She said that she didn't feel comfortable lying, and so she told him exactly what kind of thoughts she was having. She told him that she had gone out that night with the intention of finding someone to kill. (She has never actually attempted to harm anyone, and some members of her care team believe that she wouldn't have -- that leaving the house with that intent was, in itself, the escalation she needed. However, she firmly believed at that time that she could do it. The point, as far as this update goes, is that she told her baby brother that she was going to.) She told him that she had considered killing her dad and me before going out, but didn't because she couldn't do that to him. She assured him that she could never hurt him; she told us all in the early months that he was the only person she considered completely safe. But when he asked her to promise not to hurt or try to kill mom or dad, she said she would try, for his sake, but couldn't promise it. Imagine hearing all of that at eight years old. He became afraid of her. (She said that was the worst thing of all -- seeing how he looked at her with fear.) He became afraid for us -- that he would lose his dad and/or me. He became worried that she would someday attack someone and end up in prison, or dead. He started worrying that something like this could happen to him; after all, she had been completely "normal" before, and we had no signs that she would someday be ill. He mourned the sister he had always known and loved, and had to figure out how to accept, and learn to feel comfortable with this new person. He learned about mental illness, and saw it first-hand. He visited his beloved sister in a psychiatric hospital, and also saw other kids there who were ill in many ways. (We saw a few "incidents," and were once ushered quickly out of the unit when a child was throwing chairs and assaulting staff.) His life was disrupted by two hospitalizations, long drives back and forth, hotel stays, uncertainty. Life is far from the simple thing it once was.

Isaac has always been a bit more anxious than other kids. He needed time to warm up to new people and situations, and worried about things that some kids may never think about. It was all within the realm of normal, though. Sure, his anxiety was on the higher end of normal, but he was never unable to function, or crippled by it. It was simply a quirk of his. We just recognized that we would need to be sure that he was given plenty of tools for coping, so that it wasn't a huge factor in his life. 

With all of the recent changes in his life, Isaac's anxiety has become a beast. He can no longer be away from me. I can't leave the house without him, even just to run a quick errand. He is petrified that I won't come home. We've talked about how rare things like car accidents are, and how unlikely a fatal accident is, but he knows that they do happen sometimes, and he just can't bear the thought of losing me. (A friend from our old town lost his dad in a car accident back in the fall. This was a man Isaac knew, a really great guy, and it just proves his point that it could happen to anyone at any time.) In his mind, I am the thing that is most stable and most needed in his life, and he can't bear the thought of getting through all of this without me. He has concerns about losing his dad as well, but not to the same degree. He is also excessively concerned about his health. Every cough, sore throat, or stuffy nose could be a sign of something serious. Every unexplained bump or bruise could signal an alarming condition. We talk through these things, and he knows it's just his anxiety, but anxiety is a very difficult beast to tame. 

Right now, we are working on coping skills. We are not jumping to meds at this point; that would be a last resort. Isaac does great at communicating when he's feeling anxious, which gives us the chance to help him use his tools for dealing with it. Those thoughts come back over and over, so it's not like we're dealing with them to a point of resolution, but we are getting through each "flare-up," one at a time. He is sometimes choosing to challenge his anxiety by letting me go out for an hour or so without him. This is done on his terms, never forced on him, and I am so proud of him for it. Our goal right now is for him to be ready to attend two hour rehearsals by the time his theater group starts back up with rehearsals for the spring production. "Old Isaac" did things like this with no problem, but that seems like a huge goal at this point. 

This is a long, depressing post, so I'd like to leave you with the good things. This sweet boy of mine is happy. Clearly he's not relaxed and happy all the time, but he is joyful a remarkable amount of the time. He deals with panicky moments, but in between, he is himself. He laughs, he plays, he brings a lightness to everything. He is refreshingly open, which is so essential in us being able to talk him through difficult things. He has expressed negative thoughts (like "I know this sounds awful, but this is my life, too, and I feel like it's not fair how much it affects me.") I am as thankful for these as I am for the positivity, because it means that he isn't stuffing feelings, and he is feeling and expressing a proper spectrum of emotions. He says beautifully comforting things, too. (One day he said, "I was so scared and confused by all of this at first, and kinda mad too, but then I realized that even if I don't understand, God has a plan. Now I feel better about it.") He is a strong guy, stronger than I ever knew. I am so thankful for the laughter that he brings to all of us. 

I would very much appreciate prayers for my sweet Isaac. Please pray for comfort for his heart and peace for his mind. Please pray that his fear and insecurity will be replaced by feelings of safety and confidence. Pray that these trials will be used for good in his life, and are helping to shape the man he is meant to be.