I've hit a sort of "numbness wall" which is serving me pretty well. I don't get excited or upset any more as stuff keeps sliding down hill, so I am not adding any more helpless feelings to the pile inside of me; Now I just ignore the pain and am getting used to walking around like this. I can even go a few hours without panic, and when I remember everything that's going on I sort of detach myself.

I am responding to every letter/communication effort I've been getting from DCF, and I find that I'm always a step ahead of them, which is frustrating to say the least. I find it amazing that, when my call is finally answered after being on hold for an hour, I'm told something like, "Oh, we don't have that information yet. We'll be in touch," or "That information hasn't been reviewed yet. Call back." I guess the fact that I have a full-time job and don't have all day every day to play this game with them doesn't matter? I can't believe even this part is all fucked up.

I'm trying to get a service team established for Ian. I am hoping to meet with the principal and start the ball rolling through the school system, even though I know it's a long-shot. However, if people had actually listened to me 10 months ago when I requested that he remain on their radar for help, we wouldn't be where we are right now. I get so mad when I think about how I gave up last year after only a minimal fight to keep him on a school-based plan, that I let them tell me that he would "be fine" when I knew he wouldn't...

Last night I had a dream that I forgot Ian and left him in the car while I went and spoke to some friends at the park. He was dead by the time I got back. The strange thing was he was younger (like, maybe one?) and, stranger still, he was in a container (almost like a can). When I opened the container I was filled with hope and kept praying that I had gotten there on time, but one look and I knew the worst. I put my hand on him and he was so hot, so lifeless...

The dream is easy to dissect. Obviously I feel like I'm losing my little boy, and I feel like my current situation is boxing us in and is, in essence, killing him. I am doubting my Faith, questioning if I did something to him along the way to cause all of this... I really didn't need a dream to tell me that.

Yesterday/last night was bad. I'm hanging by a tread here, and my resiliency is slowly slipping away. I don't understand how this all happened and why my family is falling apart.

I like to think I'm a good person; I have spent a good deal of my life helping people, I try to be as honest as possible (as proven by my latest act of honesty which ended up screwing us royally), and I work hard at trying to find the good in everyone and every situation. I try to support friends and family, try to keep everything running smoothly... For what? Even if there was some sort of Karma coming back to bite me in the ass, why use my family as a spring board? Why my son? Why is someone so innocent, someone who should be feeling joy with the very act of breathing, hurting so much?  Why? What's happening in his little world to make him so angry and so out of control? Why can't I help him? Why am I being shut out no matter where I turn?

Why won't anyone help us?!

I'm sitting here staring into space. I've been doing this most of the 2nd half of today, and I don't see myself doing anything else any time soon.

I got the letter advising me that they are "closing" my son's case to the agency I work for, and they "regret any inconvenience" this may have caused me and my son. So, now I have no therapy for him, and no insurance to get any anyway.

I can't believe that the very 2 agencies that are supposed to be the cornerstones in the plight to help families are the very ones that have single-handedly screwed mine. DCF, which claims to "Protect the Vulnerable, Promote Strong and Economically Self-Sufficient Families, and Advance Personal and Family Recovery and Resiliency" (which I guess means to offer assistance and then say, "Whoops, sorry. Pay it back now. Good luck.") and a company whose mission statement includes "...to provide affordable, high quality behavioral health services that promote prevention and support role recovery and resiliency for the citizens of Hillsborough County, in order to improve the quality of life..." which really means reel 'em in and kick them out... Oh, and screw the people who work here too...

I think the most shocking to me is the fact that DCF just cut off the kids insurance without a word. They had it Thursday morning, and by Friday they had closed the Medicaid account. No call, no notice, no nothing; the only way I found out was because I called the second I got the letter stating that the benefits "may" be affected. So, here I sit with 2 kids who have no health insurance and no way of getting it until my next pay period. My son has severe asthma, so if he has a health issue we're essentially screwed? Wow. That is just amazing to me.

I haven't posted here in a while because things are in such turmoil within my heart, and I had to lay some things straight before I could even make sense of what's happening. Things with my little boy are... well, potentially horrible. The more I've spoken to people and the more I've been watching and listening, the more I fear for him. 

There are 2 days this week which stand out for me: The day that Sean almost cried and the day my friend and long-time child psychiatrist actually did.  It's heartbreaking in so may different ways and across so many different aspects of our lives that to try and describe it almost de-emphasizes the experience. I can't explain what's happening in any way that gives any sort of justice to how raw and exposed this makes me feel, and there are times that I'm so physically sick to my stomach that I want to curl up and forget that the earth even rotates.  There are moments of anger so fierce that I almost can't see straight, and then comes a crushing, almost debilitating sadness which settles itself into my very bones. I don't think there are any words that can come close to painting a picture even close to the darkness that has potentially touched us.

One thing is for certain- I've started the ball rolling for getting my little boy help, and I'll cross over into Hell if I have to. There is nothing that I won't do for him, and there is nothing that will stop me from getting Justice if need be.

I never thought that I could have such a primitive feeling toward protecting my son, but here it is, both fire-like and numbingly cold at the same time. It's an almost desperate dance of emotions with every sort of feeling clamoring to be heard, and yet there's the inability to react rationally to any of them. And the hard part, the most difficult part of it all is the very need to continue our lives as if nothing happened... until we get the Truth.  Because nothing can be done without that, even if that Truth is the very thing that may ruin any sense of security we ever had.