I just met with B's Psyche for what we've planned is the last time. B has received counselling through them for about two years, which is longer than they see most clients. They need to make space for more urgent cases.
I actually wasn't planning on seeing them at all after Christmas. But then B told her teachers she was going to killl herself, and then her counsellor, and so we ended up having to see them again. And while I know that it's behaviour, the counsellor at school talked to her and asked her HOW she might do it, and if she'd rehearse. So guess what she does now. Yep. Thinks about how she would do it. And rehearses.
On Saturday she had an episode and grew violent with me. My plan, that I have worked on for the past year with the behaviourist, has been to leave the apartment when she does that, until she cools down. On Saturday I couldn't because she searched for poison, and knives, and tied string around her neck, so I had to spend the whole time with her getting punched and kicked. I don't think she wants to kill herself, she's learned that it's an effective tactic to change the nature of the attention she's getting from expectation to one of concern, but I do think she could do herself harm by accident or through impulse.
And so I wanted to address the underlying moods, maybe try a new med. But the psyche doesn't think that there really is a good one to give her. So, no meds, no more counselling, and soon, no more behaviourist.
"Let's just wait and see."
And then we discussed how she's unlikely to get support from Community Living BC, because her IQ is not less than 70.
I cried in frustration. I almost never cry.
The psyche asked if I had considered putting her in foster care for a break. No. Absolutely not. Yep, I could get someone really great. I could also get a nasty and judgemental twit that could make our lives hell. Regardless, I refuse to participate in a system that will pay someone else, but not me, to take care of her. Will not. She has a perfectly good and dedicated mother. THAT should be supported. Plus, she is so attached to me, that would kill her.
I feel very misanthropic right now. Disabled people, especially children, are the absolutely most vulnerable in the world. They have no homeland, no area of town to visit, and they might not even have very much in common with other people with disabilities. Persons like B are even completely dependent on other people organising for them. And their parents are extremely over worked and under supported, making organising difficult, and leading to isolation and exhaustion. And I resent it. And I resent everyone who doesn't have to think about this right now. That isn't fair, but there you go.