Life's turns.

Some of you ol'timers may remember that my 2nd exWife, Brenda, went into hiding with my son Matthew twelve years ago. I haven't seen or heard anything about him since. I have always clung to the hope that once he'd reached the age of self-determination (for the courts) he would be curious and want to get in touch.



Tet of this year was his 18th birthday. That hope was fading fast, along with the hope of upgrading my discharge, and my attempts at confronting my family and childhood abuser for some kind of resolution.



Summer's come and gone. Depression's settling in with the gray low hanging sky... again.



I've been battling a recent unwelcome diagnosis from my daughter's new pediatrician and her mother. It isn't so much that I dispute the diagnosis as it is that I distrust the speed at which it was arrived at, and the short-cuts to usual and customary proceedures taken. They want to go straight to the magic pill.



It turns out that ADHD is very much like ptsd. The medications used for 'treatment' involves tweaking the same triad of brain chemicals. And, it's more about making the patient acceptable than it is help for them. At any rate, Roslyn's symptoms' severity does not warrant chemical adjustment. Yet?



I'd called the pediatrician a week ago to advise him that we needed to talk. He hadn't returned my call so I called again yesterday. My wife called again yesterday evening. I guess he decided we weren't going to let it pass so finally called later yesterday evening. I was braced for battle, and had my game face on. To my surprise he agreed with everything I was saying. We're going back and working the process step by step, with the chief consideration being whether medications will help HER with the symptoms.



I had just gotten off the phone with the doctor and bawled my frustrations and pain out like a baby. I'd just collected my composure and returned to the living room with the girls when BAM!



Out of the blue my dad called. He never calls unless it's to use me as a mediator with my brother, or to insure I'll make the obligatory family klan gathering. It turned out that Brenda had just called him, left her number, and asked for mine. She said Matthew was wanting to get in touch!



I can't start to describe or explain the emotions that hit me all at once. Elation, fear, dread, joy, shame, sorrow, grief... The other ptsd poster children among us probably relate if they've ever discontinued the meds and went awhile FEELING their emotions. Why the hell does caring have to hurt so much? I can't believe that's the way it's meant to be. Shouldn't there be off-setting joy? Or at least some fun?



Of course dad gave Brenda my computor's phone number instead of my cellPhone's. I know I should have been patient and waited for Matt to call in his own time. When he's ready.



I couldn't stand the idea that he may have tried to call and got a busy signal. I paced around the house, circling the phone that wouldn't turn loose of my focus. Trying to collect my thoughts and get ready to call the number dad had given me. Realizing I couldn't zero in on any one of the many issues nagging just beyond comprehension, much less address or resolve any of them in this lifetime, I just picked up the phone and dialed without actually knowing I'd decided to do so.



Hello.

Brenda?

Yes.

This is...

Hi Rob. I recognize your voice.



Her only reservation was that Matt wasn't expecting me to call him that way, and he wouldn't have time to prepare. I understood and just left them my other number with assurances that he could call any time he was ready. Less than an hour and two lifetimes later he called.



We were chatting like best friends right away. I only gave in to unmanly emotions once when we were taking about when he'd gotten burned as a baby. He led us past that and on into his pleasant memories of his childhood with his daddy like an expert.



I don't worry that the fruit don't fall far from the tree any more. I'm proud of it in fact. Matt has been taking medication for ADHD since he was 5. I didn't know that. He's only recently went off his medications and is using his understanding and awareness of the symptoms to keep them in control.



There's still lots of work to do. At least I have a reason to do it.