I cut and pasted so much over so many hours over days.
My post does not flow as it should
It reads as chaos which is how my mind is at present.
I somehow managed to leave parts out with the cutting and pasting.
The first day, he was actually on the phone for an hour.
Attempting to release some of his agony and pain.
Non stop hardly taking a breath.
It is as if he knows that my mind is with him. There have been so many instances when my thoughts have been about where is he and how is he, only to receive a call from him.
Totally immersed in delusions. So many.
We sense each other and live with parallels.
I believe that it is approximately 8 detainments now; over 10 years approximately. To be perfectly honest, my mind is blurred about the time span.
The last one being the longest, with oral medication only after so many long calls from me to nurses and psychiatrist.
Psychiatrist told me that he did not understand me. He was in a dilemma as he wanted to help him at the same time knew about his history of fleeing.
He felt strongly about giving the depot injection because of this very reason.
He then asked me why had he not fled when during detainment, they were able to walk around the open grounds and leave the area as long as signing out recording an indication of time returning.
I went on to explain that every day I would ring the facility to speak to a nurse for an update.
Later I would either ring or visit my son and take him out where he wanted to go that was close by.
I explained that this was real life which he had not had for some time with another person let alone his mum or dad.
He willingly took the medication because he knew that by doing that he would not have the involuntary injection. In the past he tried to fight that and ended up having it.
This still does not answer why he did not flee when he could at any time was the response from the psychiatrist.
My answer..........he is in a safe environment after being homeless, vulnerable, exposed to the elements, along with all of the violence and fear.
Every day when he told me during the calls, that he was exhausted and could not do it anymore.
I sent him money for a motel room for several nights.
His dad did the same.
He landed back in his home state. Trains, buses, more buses, taxis, all of his luggage dragged around.
He was homeless in the circle of steel melbourne lockdown.
Dealing with military and armed police in full uniform was threatening. Most people off of the streets. He rang me several times telling me that the country was at war.
The fact of the matter being it was on a different level. Virus warfare. If the country was at war with terrorists or another country there would also be military and police armed on the streets.
During outings from hospital he would walk so very fast.
I am a fast walker but I had to run to keep up with him. He is always on a mission and nothing will veer him from that. My heart is in my mouth on these occasions as his sense of road safety has decreased. He seems to see a break in traffic then quickly run across the road. Often narrowly missing cars. He becomes angry with him when I remind him to look both ways and take care.
He is learning consequences. Taking the oral medication as told; not a choice, a must to avoid involuntary injection.
He recognised this and did so from day one.
He also finally had a roof over his head, a warm bed, food cooked and available quite often. Second helpings allowed of which he took advantage. He weighed only 60kgs. Malnourished state for a 6 foot tall male.
He was very wiry and muscled. Again asked how by doctor. Carrying all of your possessions every day or second day moving on to find another safe place builds up muscle.
The main reason for staying and not fleeing was he was felt trusted. He felt accepted and respected. He was being listened to as his words were repeated back to him.
He was very aware that he had an opportunity to get back to his study. His life goal. The psychiatrist finally listened to me.
He had tribunal hearings and sacked his lawyer twice so hearings had to be adjourned. Finally he represented himself and was discharged from the internal order.
He had to stay there until a place was ready at the supported accommodation. He had to write his goals; visit the residence; be interviewed and then later advised whether accepted or not.
They observed him as he was now free to leave; only needed to let staff know where he was if late coming back for safety reasons.
He did not flee. The psychiatrist was surprised but pleased with him and let him know.
The staff at the supported accommodation told me that he was a lovely boy, unwell, still lovely with a gentle nature.
His dad took him out of accommodation, for three to four days without letting the facility know. I was then on the phone to them daily, pleading to give him more of a chance. It had been years where he did not go out every day. He had come so far. Many calls, talks, they listened until finally when son rang me and said not going back because a mental health worker was wanting to make a time to meet him. I knew that i had to let go of the idea of living there and attending tafe.
I was so disappointed and angry with his dad.
The facility told me not to be hard on myself. Many take several times before they stay and he would be welcome back if he ever chose to and obviously met the conditions, basically after another detainment.
I then searched my mind, my heart, my soul.
I was looking at the whole scenario from my yearning for him to have a safe place to stay, come and go, be independent, have his study, spend time with family.
Yes son wanted this not with mental health involved.
Of course not mental health as he still did not believe that he was unwell. He had some anxiety at times which he was taking care of with prescribed medication as required.
Now I have to tell myself; too much ;too soon; too painful.
Look at where he had been at what he had gone through for so long.
Look at how much he had achieved within four months.
Incredible.
Emergency housing appointments not met. Again disappoint. Again reminder to myself of above few lines.
Answer simple.
He was not ready.
He was exhausted; still digesting where he was. Medication adjustments. Stopping medications. Symptoms.
My gosh my expectations were so high.
So much hope invested.
That was not mine. This was not about my life.
This was about my son and his life. This was his decision. His choice.
Now, back to day by day, phone call by phone call.
Now being now and accepting that.
Breathing.
Reminding him to breathe.
Look at what he had achieved. A vast amount of change for anyone.
Be proud of him.
I am.
Now I need to find me.
I am off out to my garden.
My garden lets me be me.
I cannot read and check this anymore. I have depleted all of my energy.
It will read as gobbledy goo.....
At least I have released some more.
This will also be deleted at some stage.
