Tag Archives: paranoia

A new fear – Talking with dead friends

survival business as a special needs parent is hard stuffLast night was scary.  Not sure what happened exactly, but David is back in the hospital.

At 8pm, with his bedtime medicines he gets a snack.  He wanted oatmeal, instead I gave him a granola bar.

He said that he would hurt me if I didn’t give him the right snack.  He made a move to run, pushed our 8 foot long dining room table at me, pinching me into my chair.

I pushed back.  Then because I didn’t know what he was going to do, I picked him up, took him to the living room and said that if he wanted to go to the hospital that is what would happen.

He was ready to go in minutes.  Since we live an hour from the hospital, and the weather conditions were near blizzard like, I drove slowly.

David started turning the heat off and on, playing with the radio, rolling his window up and down, and then made the move.  He tried to grab the steering wheel while I was driving.  One of the vehicles he tried to crash us into was an ambulance.

I couldn’t both try to drive and keep him from taking the wheel, so I pulled off the road.

David was throwing things out the window, reaching over to turn off the van (something he did repeatedly).  I called 911 to request assistance.  Because we were in another county the call was transferred to another Sheriff office.  We waited on the side of the road for about an hour for the deputies.  By this time, David’s evening medicine was beginning to take affect.

So I asked him if I could drive the rest of the way into town.  I also asked about turning on the heat.  His reply, “Yes, and thank you for asking.”

David reported to me that he was seeing a dead friend of ours as well as our dog Brownie, who died more than a year ago.

David is most honest when he is in that stage where his medicine is just taking affect.

At the hospital, when the doctor asked him about what was going on, he told them the truth.  He wanted to crash the van. And that he was angry that he didn’t get the right snack.

This morning, David reportedly told the social worker that the dead friend and our dead dog were talking to him.  Telling him that some people need to be killed.

I am afraid.  Last night when he was trying to crash us, I knew real fear for the first time.  Having it reported that he is talking with dead people, scares me even more.

Now, there is a chance that David is telling stories. Something he is very good at doing, but there is also a chance that he isn’t.  That he really is conversing with the dead.  Or believes that he is.  I have seen and heard David carrying on conversations with people, when he and I are in the room alone, and the only ones home.

So now what do we do?  The hospital reported that it can sometimes take months to get a placement in a facility.  That they would help as much as they could, but sure couldn’t keep him in the mental health unit for a couple of months.

Up until 8pm last night, we had had a fairly good weekend.

Held Hostage by Mental Illness

Some days, I feel like a hostage in my own home. Held hostage by mental illness.  366 - 350: You can't shut me up

Seriously.  David had a couple of really good days.  Mom took him into the city, he spent time with his favorite Aunt.  Life was good for him.

Then there are days like today.  If it isn’t his way, then he will hold the whole house hostage with his behaviors and tantrums.

Pretty sad day, when one of the boys leans over and asks me how long we have to deal with the behavior David exhibits before something can be done about it.

In reality, it will be a while.  Why?  Need documentation of his behaviors and mental health issues.

Facility staff.. If you are reading this, whether or not you ever worked with my son, it is imperative that you document – document – document, every behavior.  I know it feels like tedium at the end of a long shift, but it will be incredibly helpful to the patient, and their family.  Sugar coating things by leaving them our doesn’t help the patient or their families.

Sure, one could say that these things I am writing about are just negative or bad behaviors.  And in a way they would be correct.  But it is so much a component of his mental illness that we can understand why people think like this.

The other piece.  Paranoia.

David was interfering with my phone call tonight because he was afraid I was calling the Sheriff.

So for half an hour, every time I tried to dial out, he would do something to another phone extension in the house.  Once I got all of the other phones secured, it wasn’t difficult to make my phone call to his sister.  Sad reality, some days the paranoia overwhelms him.