Therapy Thursday

It’s adjustment disorder.

She has sensory processing disorder.

She is autistic.

She suffers from anxiety.

She has the emotional capability of an 18 month old.

This just tops the list of things we’ve been told about Molly. She has “failed” pretty much every standardized tests for diagnosing any of these conditions.

She can’t control herself when routines change. She’s rigid. She doesn’t communicate well. She can’t keep eye contact. She’s delayed developmentally.

She doesn’t like loud noises, clothes, food, has balance difficulty. She has sensory processing disorder.

She’s afraid of the dark. She’s afraid of public toilets. She carries on frantically when she doesn’t like something. She gets too nervous about being wrong. It’s anxiety.

The problem is that all of these symptoms overlap in the Venn diagram from hell. They are each part of sensory processing, autism, adjustment disorders and anxiety. So each profession we talk to grabs hold of the symptoms they specialize in and diagnose and suggest treatment for that. Each have compelling arguments why they are right and how their diagnosis would cause the other symptoms and then each are left with a bunch of ??? when Molly doesn’t quite fit their mold. And we are left trying to figure out what to do next.

We’ve had success with therapeutic riding, but not in some main areas.

We had success with behavioral therapy, but as soon as Molly figured out the ropes it was downhill from there.

Sticker charts are useless. She can’t be motivated. Some days to do anything.

Since this summer, we have been heading into the anxiety difficulty. It’s the last piece of the puzzle we really haven’t tackled. We tried once. We did the big name hospital, we weren’t happy. Honestly, it scared me off. It’s a lot of time, energy and resources to go to these appointments. We’ve been blessed with plenty of family and friends who are more than willing to help, but it’s still tiring and at some point leads me to a nervous breakdown after balancing schedules, appointments, work and babysitters. After the first failure we’ve been putting it off, but a recommendation from the school psychologist has me staring at a list of names again. Plain old names. All backgrounds fit what we need, no one seemingly better or worse than another. It’s another shot in the dark to find out what we need and who we need. I sat and stared at these names this morning, trying to pick up the phone to call them and find out if they take our insurance and if they have availability that matches our limited free time, but I didn’t call anyone. Instead I sat and cried. Feeling like I needed a therapist myself, or a personal assistant to make the call so I don’t have to deal with it. I considered hooking my box of wine up to an IV but it was 9 AM and I had a feeling that social workers or counselors don’t appreciate drunk phone calls that early in the morning.

Then Molly came home from school and I realized that I do have to deal with it. I have to deal with it because I have a daughter that has difficulty dealing with life.

At least my boxed wine is still on sale at the local liquor store.

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