In other, happier news...

 

This girl allowed me to do her hair today with zero fuss! We talked about it ahead of time and I reminded her how she allows other people to do her hair, cut it, comb it out, braid it and that she needed to treat me with the same respect. And she held it together. I was shocked!

 

This sweet boy is absolutely THRIVING on his modified version of the program. He is happy and I KNOW he's safe from teasing and "accidental" hurts from Loreli. He is more polite and helpful than ever :-)

Aaaaaand...back to the grind. I'm really struggling. Brad has a three day family reunion trip lined up this weekend and I'm going to be left alone with the kids in the middle of this family intervention program. I honestly don't know if I can do it. 

Tonight was ugly sobbing in the closet night. I just finished dinner and 5 oreos and milk and at least am feeling slightly more human. 

I have spent 5 long years researching and trying new techniques to help our family and help Loreli. Lots of things have worked a little bit. This seems to be working better than others but OMG it is so completely all encompassing. To have her so close to me, to be watching EVERY SINGLE interaction between Loreli and Daniel,  and Loreli and the dogs to make sure everyone is safe. To hope and pray that __________ doesn't flip her out and that she will remember what we've been over on how to deal with anger, fear, resentment, general communication, etc. To hope every moment that _________ won't be the thing that sets her off. 

I hate walking on eggshells. Living with a ticking time bomb.

Yes, things are getting better. I see a lot of smiles and better behavior but you know what? I've seen it before and it always slides back.

I think one of my main triggers was stripping her room. We finished it this evening. I was horrified by the waste, the moldy food, wrappers, so many things ruined, makeup ground into the carpet, marker ink on the walls and in the carpet, her ceramic neti pot filled with hair conditioner and left to rot, hundreds of feet of curling ribbon, thousands of tiny plastic beads in the carpet, the list goes on and on and on. 8 big bags of trash. It was sad. Upsetting. Scary to think what's in the little head that could create that much chaos. 

Guilt for listening to a different professional--someone that thought that giving kids control of their rooms would be good for them. 

Sigh...

Soldiering on...