September 4, 2018
I few weeks ago, I sat with my son Noah (17 years old soon to be 18), for his very first Psychiatrist appointment for his (3) hour long evaluation. Now he has been experiencing psychosis and delusions for weeks, possibly months. For some reason he recently decided to open up and share his experiences (symptoms) with myself and others. From the things he shared with me, I was speculating him to be diagnosed with Schizophrenia, like his older brother.
Now I have gone through a Psychiatric evaluation twice before with Noah’s older brother (Joey,, 23yr) just months before today, so I unlike those appointments, I felt calm and prepared. However, I was this Psychiatrist had reached a lot deeper into to my own childhood. She had me look far back to trudge up my painfully nightmarish life growing up, my dysfunctional family dynamics, my own Experiences (which made me realize were symptoms), family history etc. Although it was very difficult to talk about the first half of my life that I successfully buried, I appreciated that this Dr. was being pretty thorough. I wanted to cry, I wanted to run away and stay there at the same time. But of course I stayed so she could help figure out why my young son was having so many intense symptoms that have undoubtedly affected his dangerous behaviors this year.
I was told the next morning over the phone that Noah’s diagnosis was Schizoaffective, Bi-Polar with Anxiety disorder. (Schizophrenia Bipolar)…..I remember that was the only thing I can hear the therapist saying and it echoed so loudly inside my head and reverberated out to my whole body. I short of breathe. I thought I was going to pass out.
After the phone call, all I could think of was the hard fact that I now have a second son with a diagnosis more complex than his brother! How this was a new mental illness I knew nothing about. I fully trusted, yet reluctantly accepted the diagnosis of Schizoaffective, Bi-Polar with Anxiety disorder.
For the rest of the day, off and on, I actually could feel my heart squeeze with a pressure. Not a physical pressure, A sad pressure. “Why my sons?” No man could ever replicate this kind of heartbreak. A mother’s heartbreak for what her children suffer and live through.
By nightfall, I felt heavily overwhelmed. I swear I could see and feel my heart shatter over and over and tears spilled from the inside. I wanted to cry, but the tears just wouldn’t come out! At this point I was still very numb and utterly in shock.
Wow Life had other plans for us! I can only hold my chin up and pray now as I brace myself for this new Journey down my new life path with these boys.