I was home from work yesterday with a sick Owen, a sick Hannah, and a sick me. Ugh. I have come to the conclusion that one bathroom isn’t nearly enough when you have three people ill; especially when toilet in said bathroom decides it doesn’t want to work right any longer. Can anyone say G.R.O.S.S.? I had to do laundry all day as well, because of course Owen had to throw up in the middle of the night in our bed. Twice. And then as I was lugging him out to the living room, he also threw up all down the closet door and onto the clothes folded up on the floor. Thankfully, we are all on the mend today, and for that I am grateful.
Sam and I stayed up last night to watch the meteor shower, which was a bust. We saw two, and that was it. Still, I enjoyed snuggling with him on the grass outside, looking up at the stars. He said, “I sure like you, mom,” and that made me happy. So much time and energy has been focused on other things lately-with good reason, I know, but still-that it was really nice to have that little bit of time with just him.
Just got off the phone with the prosecutor, and am pissed all over again. No, they aren’t going to set up a status hearing, we will just find out on the Friday before the sentencing OR the Monday Of sentencing whether or not it is going to happen. Yes, he will probably ask for an extension, and yes, he will probably get it. I don’t understand any of this; I feel like I have been very cognizant and as understanding as possible of the whole legal aspect of this, but I still don’t understand why CF gets what he wants, period. Today was the first time that the Prosecutor was condescending to me; he said, “You need to understand that there is a difference between legal closure and emotional closure, and you and your daughter are just going to have to deal with that.” FUCK.YOU. is what I wanted to say. I know well that they aren’t the same thing, thankyouverymuch. It doesn’t help, however, for her to KNOW that he just gets to keep asking for more time and gets it, every single time, and in the meantime he lives a free life. Ankle monitor or not, this man is FREE. Also, tell me how I am supposed to help my daughter “deal with that” when every avenue I have tried for help so far is a dead fucking end?
I talked to my friend J. at great length yesterday, and she confirmed my suspicion that the reason Hannah’s counselor cut her off has to do with money. The counselor dropped the ball and did not send in a referral request (which J. knows for a fact, as she is the one who has to SIGN them as Hannah’s Primary Care Provider), and without that referral, Medicaid said, “ok, we aren’t going to pay for any more mental health visits.” Why the counselor didn’t just follow through with it when she remembered instead of dropping Hannah, I don’t know; and of course she is on vacation now. I talked to my caseworker at Medicaid and SHE said that once Hannah has exhausted all of her allotted visits (which she has), without that referral and a diagnosis (which would have been given by the psychiatrist that we were also supposed to see, but THAT didn’t happen either) I have to go through Children’s Mental Health Services and apply for services through them. Income based, so I shouldn’t have to pay, but the waiting list? 3-6 months. Months. Can you fucking believe this shit?
On a slightly more positive note, Steve and I are going in to talk to the principal of the Alternative High School tomorrow, to talk about what has happened with Hannah, where she stand academically, and what our options are. Steve has already spoken to Mr. C and he (Mr. C) thinks that if any school can help, they are the one (small student-to-teacher ratio, several counselors on staff, himself included, etc…). He may also have other resources that are not readily available to the general public. So-we shall see.
I have an attitude of defeatism today, which can also be defined as “resigned pessimism.” I don’t often feel quite this beaten down, but lately it feels like I am constantly being hit with something else. I am tired, you guys. Just-tired of the justice system which isn’t just, tired of all of the bullshit hoops that we have to jump through to even find the right person to talk to, tired of not being able to lavish the time and attention on my other kids, time they deserve and need just as much as Hannah does. And no, I am not giving up, not by a long shot. But damn it, this is so fucking hard, and I am so tired, and I just feel…done.