Day 86

He's finished a semester of honors American Lit, with a grade of A. His teacher's comments were: "Exceptional engagement and evidence of achievement in the course. (He) is a talented writer with superb written expression and deep analytical skills." He's one lesson away from finishing a semester of honors Algebra 2...and will probably get an A in that as well. His letters and our phone conversations are a pleasure - it is as if I have the boy he was (before things started slipping off the rails in 7th grade) back...but with a maturity and sensitivity commensurate with his age. He still has a long way to go-- as I think in part he is just conforming to the structure he's been provided, and he hasn't totally internalized it all yet...but this is the same kid who failed the second quarter of 10th grade Anmerican lit last December....so while there's alot to be done, we are in a good place.

Day 73

I just realized that it's less than a month until parent's weekend...where I actually get to SEE him. I should start counting down as well as up! Today is T-27!

Day 72

Nice picture and updates on the web today. He had a choice to make in school--and he took the harder path which will be better in the long run.

Day 71

Wow-- its been almost 10 weeks. I still haven't tackled his room yet, aside from going in and removing the health hazard type stuff I did in the beginning. I'm pretty sure I can go in there without crying now- so hopefully I'll get to that soon.

Day 70

He was brought back up to Level 2 this afternoon. I received a letter from him earlier today that had two parts-- one was hysterical ranting written right after he was demoted- the second was a more reasonable analysis the next morning...interesting that by the time I got the letter from him, the crisis was over.

Day 69

We finally got the refinancing done to pay for this - which is a relief. It's as if we're paying a few extra years of college tuition...but it is probably the best investment we could make in trying to make sure he has a future.

Day 68

Nice letter today where he obsesses about how much he is overthinking and obsessing about things- since I am also an overthinker, watching him struggle with this is forcing me to realize that this is an issue I need to deal with as well.

Day 67

It was tough not talking to him today, but it did give us an opportunity to go over some things with his therapist...hopefully he'll be back to level 2 soon so we can talk to him next week. I guess this type of "slip up" is part of the two steps forward, one step back routine.

Day 66

Bad news today- he got bumped back down to level 1 yesterday, so we don't get to see him tomorrow. The issue was inappropriate language, so hopefully he'll be moved back up soon.

Day 65

It's getting tougher to explain what's going on with him to friends. The issue is that some people are still treating me as if this is a tragedy...and I've actually moved on to thinking that this is a really good thing. I miss him- every day...but as always, when you see your children grow and develop, you feel an incredible sense of pride. I look at how well he's doing, and am absolutely SO PROUD of him...I am confident that when he emerges on the other side, the life that he will be beginning will be so much richer than if he hadn't experienced this.

Day 64

Articles of his clothing keep turning up in the wash...and I wonder how much he will have changed physically by the time he gets home-- and if they'll even fit...

Day 63

So, if its 6 months, we're a third of the way there-- if its 8 months, we're 25% of the way there. I think he's probably made more progress than we have - as he's living therapy 24/7. Every action he takes is analyzed and challenged-- whereas we just coast in our own little world. Hopefully we'll get started with our therapy soon- as time is passing quickly.

Day 62

I got a checking in call from the mother of his friend that had been through the same program, arriving home about 6 weeks before we sent him. It's reassuring to hear that everything is "sticking" and that her son is still doing really well.

Day 61

If you had told me two months ago that he would be getting A's in school, was being recognized as a leader among his peers, and was thinking about which friends would be healthy for him to have and which wouldn't...I would have thought it would take a miracle. There's still along way left to solidify these gains, have him truly believe in himself, and hopefully have dreams and aspirations that will form a full life...but we are finally on our way.

Day 60

60 days- I slipped when talking to him this am, and said 59...he reminded me it was 60...and when I logged on tonight I saw that he was right. We had a great conversation today as part of family therapy...covering friends he'd decided he'd had to let you, his sadness that some of the things he cared about might not b ethere when he got back...is focus on the future is still fairly narrow. He is fixated on getting back with his band-- and hoping that they will join him in his drug free life. He asked me to cal them, and let them know it was better "on the other side". While that may work out - it may not, and I'm concerned about building up his resources to be able to deal with what may be crushing disappointment.

Day 59

I drove within 30 miles of where he is today- that was tough...knowing he's so close I can't see him. But my husband got a great letter from him today-- great not meaning all touchy-feely...but a nice newsy, civil letter. Its been almost two months- but there has been so much progress!

Day 58

I'm really looking forward to the Saturday web updates-- this one was all good-- no cautions at all-- he's developing leadership skills, relating well to peers, working hard, and doing well in school. Today's pictures showed him with an alpaca, and doing yoga. His letter home expressed hope that we could go out for lobster and steamers during parent weekend in July.

Day 57

Letter today. In it he states that he's feeling very "alone" in this process, and that he feels that there is no one he can count on. While that may be sad, I think it's important-- because actually we are all alone...ultimately...and being able to face that...and be ok with it, is probably a key part of the process.

Day 56

Still no letters this week. That's not good, as he's required to write two a week to stay on track - so it means that Monday's session upset him enough that he's shut down? Or could he just be too busy to write? I guess I'll see what's in the mailbox tomorrow.

Day 55

He filled my dreams last night. The plot was basic- he'd stolen a car and driven home. ( A green pick-up for those who are into details)...and I needed to bring him back - which was harder than sending him in the first place.

Day 54

Well, while the emotional and psychological issues are a roller coaster, academics continue to be nothing but stellar. He's completed the first quarter of honors Algebra 2-- and has received nothing less than an A. At this rate, he'll have completed the course by the end of August. He's 2/3 of the way through the first quarter of Chemistry- also straight A's...and 1/3 of the way through English, again with straight A's.

Day 53

I walked through at the end of the session he and his father ad today. He was wiping away tears, and my husband was irritated. It didn't look too great-- but at least feelings were being felt, if I need to search deeply for a glimmer of hope.

Day 52

Another major family event without him...I guess I should be glad I still feel the whole in my heart- it is not normal to celebrate major milestones without him. Tomorrow am the family therapy is "solo" with him and his father...I hope it goes well.

Day 51

Today's weekly report showed him with his arm around a llama...neither he nor the llama looked happy.

Day 50

We received his formal "treatment plan" today, detailing what precisely was going to be worked on. There was nothing surprising except the anticipate completion date: December 20, 2009...a long way away.

Day 49

I received another dark letter today. His therapist says that this is his way of dealing with stress- he's falling back on the old patterns he used to get me to respond to him. He told me that I should respond with a short note that told him not to write letters like that to me any more. Yikes! That was tough for me to deal with, but I did manage to craft one that I think struck a balance between his advice and my feelings.

"I received your letter today. While I want to make sure you know that you can always be open with me - and I want to know how you are truly feeling - the journal entry you enclosed was pretty dark and dramatic. I realize that this is hard work, but dwelling on your misery is not helpful...it reinforces old ways of thinking. So, while I want to be available to you when you are sad, I would also like to hear about some of things you're proud of - I hear 3rd hand about the respect you've earned and how well you're doing in some many aspects of the program...but would like to hear it from you. It would be helpful for you to verbalize some of those accomplishments; maybe writing them down would help you realize how amazing you are."

Day 48

Have I described this as a roller coaster? Advance-retreat-up-then down. I got a letter today that he wrote an hour before the family therapy session on Monday. In it he describes how depressed he is, how much he doesn't want to do the call, and how pathetic he is...and there's a large drawing of the words "you f-ing HATE ME" on the back. I'm pretty sure that this was because of the stress level he had about the call--but it does indicate how far we have to go.

Day 47

I haven't received a letter from him in 10 days. He's required to write 2 a week, and his letters this week went to his sister and father--brief newsy type letters. This is a good thing, I think. His letters to me were intense and emotional--and the fact that he doesn't NEED that anymore is a good thing.

Day 46

It was great to see him today! He seemed really nervous during the call; the therapist did most of the talking. It was fairly casual without a lot of serious talk. The one time I got teary was when we were discussing the "rules" for parent weekend...he said that the clinical director had said that one of the most important rules was not to ask your parents to take you home because "when the sent you here it ripped a hole in their heart--and having you ask them to take you home would rip it wide open again."

Day 45

Tomorrow's the big day - our first family therapy call. Hopefully I have Skype set up correctly for a video call.

Day 44

Well, I cried today, but they were tears of joy. The weekly report always includes pictures--but I've never been happy with how he looked--they never looked "right" to me. Well today's included a photo of him right after he's heard he was promoted to level 2. He's in the kitchen, holding a pan of muffins he's just baked--grinning ear to ear. I can't remember the last time he looked so happy--it has literally been years.

I know we all have a lot of hard work ahead of us--but it will be worth it in the end.

Day 43

He wrote a letter to his father today--very mature and reasonable. No ranting, just a statement that he couldn't say what he wants to in a letter, so he'd wait to talk about those things until we have our family therapy call. he then proceeded to give a nice newsy update on what he'd been doing--a run down of the day.

I am beginning to be very hopeful.

Day 42: Level 2

He was promoted to Level 2 today!

Day 41

Another day without a letter...hopefully this means that he needs me less for venting--and is processing things on his own by journaling...or just needs to vent less. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the treatment team feels he's ready for level 2 when they meet tomorrow afternoon.

Day 40

I spent a fair amount of time today dealing with medical issues--getting a refill for his inhaler--arranging for pain relief for his wisdom teeth--they actually need an order from his pediatrician for him to get ibuprofen. I also began the process of sorting out how he'll have his wisdom teeth out up there, if it winds up being necessary.

Day 39

His therapist says that he's very close to being moved to level 2--perhaps as soon as this week. When that happens we'll be able to have video calls--where I can actually see him!

Interesting that the timing aligns fairly closely with the biblical "40 days"...this has been our 40 days in the wilderness, where we face our demons. But, its not yet the beginning of the end - just the end of the beginning. This is a cyclical process, with progress followed by retreat, and I must steel myself for that. I'm still keeping my fingers crossed that next Monday will be a "family" call!

Day 38

I think that we've definitely turned a corner. Although his latest letter was filled with depressing statements--about how he and his life was "pathetic", he's definitely taking ownership of some of the bad choices he's made, and showing some insights as well. Were just talking baby steps--but they are definitely baby steps in the right direction.

Day 37

Great letter home today! In it he says that he's feeling better and is settling in--and it's signed with "Love". It does mention the wisdom teeth issue though, so hopefully we'll be able to figure out how to deal with that.

Day 36

Its been five weeks, and in that time he's begun to take some responsibility for his behavior, and I've begun to question all types of decisions I made over the past 16 years. His therapist said that we shouldn't beat ourselves up-that we were parenting a special child with special needs...but I know that I made choices that helped get us to this point, and I need to come to grips with that, accept that I can't change the past...and move forward.

Day 35

You would think that by this point, it would get easier-- the missing him--but it doesn't...there are numerable times each day when I want to call or text him something, and I can't.

Day 34

The nurse called today. It seems he's been having a lot of pain from his wisdom teeth, and she needed to get some forms completed to give him ibuprofen. That wasn't a big issue--but the wisdom teeth might be. The original plan was for him to have them out this summer--but that will be difficult under his current circumstances. She said it has been done occasionally, but they need to be at Level 3, so they can leave the facility...that could be 2-3 months away. Hopefully the pain will abate, and we can buy some time.

Day 33

I dreamed about him last night--the dream was about us seeing him on parent weekend...very much in tune with the reality of where he is now, rather than memories of the past, or hopes for the future. i guess i needed to see him so badly, that since we weren't allowed to see him on parent's weekend, my subconscious took me there.

Day 32

News from the therapist today was that he'd "stalled", and is too quick to get irritated by other kids. He said they felt that he needed to be able to let the small stuff go before being moved up to level 2. He's probably getting discouraged-- as patience is not his strong suit. I haven't had any luck getting books approved for him yet - the list I sent was deemed more appropriate for level 3. So back to the drawing board.

Day 31

Nice update on the webpage today. There's photo of him playing football, and a really nice one of him working on Algebra 2. (That probably says something about my geekness that I get all excited about seeing a picture of him working on Algebra 2.) His "letter home" on the site, said that he thought he'd be moving up to the next level soon- but didn't want to be overconfident. He also said that he's heard the new X-men movie was great, and would want it on DVD when he got home. News like that from the outside world must mean that a new resident has arrived.

Day 30

Back on Day 16 I mentioned that the school's director was impressed by a "haunting personal essay" he wrote about personal experiences with racism. I asked if I could see a copy, which was forwarded to me on the QT, as I guess these usually aren't shared. Well, I was perplexed when I read it, as it describes, in detail, his standing by not intervening as a classmate beat another in 6th grade, the white boy pounding the black boy's head against the wall during recess, and leaving him unconscious. My son went on to describe how horrible he felt about not trying to stop it. Pretty heavy stuff...but I'm almost 100% sure it never happened. So, is he conning them? Was this piece of creative writing just a way to avoid him actually recounting how he felt when he was stereotyped for his long hair and pierced lip? Or, could it be that the story merely used alter egos to project the feelings he had about being bullied in middle school? Since I'm not supposed to have seen it-- do I ignore it? Or do I mention it to his therapist in our Monday call?

Day 29

Well today is parent's weekend-- and we are not there. This has been tough for me, but is probably worse for him as he watches the other families show up. Now, I'm sure that not all of these family reunifications are sweetness and light..and we are not their for a reason. But still, it's tough.

Day 28

4 weeks ago tonight, we started this process in motion. An eternity, but yesterday... II have a large pile of letters that are angry, sad and confused. If I read them sequentially, I see them becoming increasingly rational, but still very upset. The glimmers of hope I saw last week have disappeared...and I wonder if the fact that he was not being promoted to level 2 in time for Parent's Weekend have "deflated his sails" and set him back? If so, it confirms that he wasn't ready, as learning how to deal with frustration is one of the key tasks he has ahead of him.

Day 27

We have a meeting with his school tomorrow to review his IEP. It would be nice to get them to support this placement, but that would be hoping for too much, I think. I haven't talked to his counselor since the conversation where she called our actions barbaric, so it will be interesting to see their position.

Day 26

Despite the progress, he is not ready for us to attend Parent's Weekend next weekend. While I am extremely disappointed, I am wiling to trust the facility, as the stakes are so high. Rushing things could cause a setback that could ultimately extend the entire process, so I'll be patient-- not my strong suit.

The other big issue today is a disagreement my husband and I are having. Back at the beginning of this, I had planned on writing every day. My husband felt that once a week was fine--and was concerned that if I wrote every day, and he only wrote once a week, it would emphasize the imbalance in the relationship we each had with our son. With the help of our son's therapist, we compromised on me writing every other day--which is tough for me, but I have respected the arrangement.

In his past several letters, he's asked me to please write every day, as it makes him sad to have a day without mail. My husband has said "no way." I'll bring this up again on Monday with the therapist...but it's really tough for me. The positive communications to date have just been to me. The letters to my husband, while they don't useful offensive language, and are carefully worded, have been painful lists of ways he thinks his father has failed him...which my husband is not taking well at all. Hence, he has no desire to write to him more than once a week.

Day 25: First Breakthrough

Here's the letter I received today:

"I am feeling a lot better today...I think you'll notice a drastic change in the letters. I slept horrible last night but somehow today I feel great. We ran this morning and it was the best run so far. I was tired but somewhere I had something extra in me...I was tired but something was different. Whether it's my body or my mind, something is different. Will write soon. Have to go to breakfast."

And for the first time, he signed it "Love".

Day 24 - Mothers Day

Happy Mother's day to me. His letter this week mentioned that he was supposed to make me a Mother's Day card, but had refused because he didn't love me or appreciate me. At the same time, his letter went on for 8 pages about sad and depressed he was...and who did he choose to share those feelings with? Me, the safe target for his feelings of anger and rage. Some people may say that "He'll appreciate what you did later." But it really doesn't matter if he does or not. If the program works, and he comes out of it a young adult ready to go on to have a happy well integrated life, then it really doesn't matter whether he ever "appreciates" me or not. The greatest give I will get...is seeing him okay. So, here's to Mother's day 2010-- whatever it brings!

Day 23

Another very angry letter today. After the long letter a few days ago with glimmers of hope, I received the most hate filled note yet today, the day before Mother's Day. As usual, it was addressed just to me...the safe target. Lots of anger for sending him away "You brought me into this world, and you need to deal with me." More profanity than I am comfortable repeating in public. And lots of statements about how I will never see him again when he has a choice. "This is an individual program so I would appreciate if if you make growing a relationship with you not one of the things I work on. If that's the case I will be here for a very long time and waste your money." And many other statements of a similar nature. I know that he is wounded and in pain, and lashing out - as that's the only way he knows to cope. I know that in my head - but today, I cry again.

Day 22

We were officially notified today that he is not ready for a family visit yet, so we will not be able to attend Family Weekend next week. I'm disappointed, but not surprised, as they had told us that its usually 4-6 weeks before they are ready to begin family therapy - so I'll see him at the end of July. His therapist also said that he was going to begin EAGALA (Equine Assisted Growth and Learning)next week, in hopes that working with horses would help him. I look forward to learning more about that as it progresses. It was explained that horses are incredibly in tune with emotions, and that in order to get the horse to do certain tasks, the student needs to be able to manage their emotions.

Day 21

In 6 hours, it will be three weeks since we set the wheels of this journey in motion. I got a longer letter today, which started out with "hate mail", but then moved on to 8 pages that ranged over a wide ground. He described how depressed and miserable he is, and how he feels that the facility is only making it worse, calling it "fueled depression"...he opened up about things he'd denied in the past, such as his recent drug dealing and small thefts from his father's wallet...he described a suicide attempt he made in 6th grade, when he took a "handful" of Tylenol and was surprised when he woke up feeling awful instead of being dead.

It was a generally a very hopeless letter, but it did contain glimmers of him beginning to take some responsibility for his actions.

He also sent a letter to his father today, detailing all the ways he felt that his father has failed him. While not profane or vitriolic, it was extremely painful to read. Hopefully it will be the beginning of their rebuilding their relationship. At the end of that letter, he asked his father to ask me to send books. That's tough, as his reading material is restricted to classics and self-help books, and his tastes run to Steven King. He specifically requested the Dexter books, which I think are definitely off limits, as I'm pretty sure that books about serial killers won't pass their test. So-- a question to anyone who may be reading this. Any suggestions for "clean" books that a 16 year old boy might enjoy?

Day 20

I've been doing a lot of thinking recently about whether or not this was inevitable. While I'm convinced that having reached this point, sending him away was our best chance of helping him to lead a happy life, I wonder what choices I could have made in the previous 16 years that might have changed the path, and prevented us from getting to this point. I could drive myself crazy thinking about that I suppose. How can you love someone so much - and have them feel so unloved and angry?

His letters today were to his sister and a one liner to his father. The letter to his father was to fulfill his therapist's stipulation that in order for us to send him the guitar we bought him, he needed to ask his father directly. The communication was not much, but it's a start, I think.

Day 19

The last of the purchases I needed to make for him arrived at the facility today--it's interesting because it means that I can't buy him anything else. No books, no CDs, no magazines, no video games, no cookies, no root beer...all the little things I did on a daily basis - even when he was away at camp before, I was able to do nurturing-mother-type-things. In sending him away, I not only sent him away...but a part of myself is gone as well.

Day18

I got a letter today that included a note he wanted me to pass on to his bandmates. His therapist continues to be adamant that no communications can be passed. This is one of the things he needs to accept that he has no control over before he can progress. It's incredibly difficult for me to surrender control as well, allowing the therapist to call the shots.

Day 17

The psychiatric nurse at the facility called me today. to let me know the results of the psychiatrist's meeting with our son. The "med clinic" was held last night, and , as expected the psychiatrist met with him to determine if he was clinically depressed. The results were unambiguous...on the 50 question depression scale, most of his answers reflected "marked" or "severe" depression symptoms. The interesting thing was that under Maine state law, we need to consent, but the decision on whether or not to take an antidepressant is his. He needs to consent, and can withdraw consent at any time.

So, as he had decided he wanted to give it a try, she was calling to ask me for my consent. Which after a long discussion, I gave. He'll be starting on 10 mg of Prozac on Tuesday morning, and if it's effective, will probably take it for 12-18 months.

Day 16

We got another website update today. The outdoor chores have focused mostly on winter clean-up - not surprising after the winter we had this year. The education director positively raved about his school work, citing a "very haunting personal essay on experiences with intolerance and discrimination" that he wrote after reading To Be a Slave by Julius Lester. He's begun Algebra 2, and is doing very well.

The therapist reports that he seems "almost excited" about meeting the the psychiatrist next week and starting on anti-depressant therapy. I guess he's had a change of heart, as in his letter to his sister last week he wrote that he thought taking medication for depression would be "like giving up." He's reportedly working hard, pleasant with both staff and peers, and is being cooperative.

The big negatives are his anger towards us, reflected in his refusal to write the letter home that they are required to contribute to the website, and his continuance to blame us for his situation. We're only two weeks, in, though--so I'm not sure if this is about where we should be or not.

Day 15

It's been two weeks I'm not sure how he's doing, but I'm still trying to find my way. The facility had offered to match me with a parent that I could talk to, so I finally asked for one today. She was very nice, but her son's experience was nothing like ours. The big issue I wanted to talk about - the "hate mail" - and how to respond - was foreign to her. Her son had got willingly, and she had driven him up. She had received no nasty letters. I guess we'll need to use some of the therapy time Monday to explore how best to respond. I've been paralyzed since receiving that last letter; I really don't want to say the wrong thing, so I guess its better to say nothing for now.

Day 14

One of his band members called me last night to ask when he would be home. He seemed fairly shocked when I said that we were hoping to have him home by Thanksgiving, but there were no guarantees. I told him that I'd keep them informed, but that how long it would be would depend on him, and how quickly he accepted the program. They wanted to be able to write to him and I had to explain that that wasn't possible.

Knowing that worrying about his place in the band is one of his big worries, and knowing that I can't tell him they called - is hard.

Day 13

Good news today from the education coordinator. After reviewing the work he's done in the week he's been there, she feels he is ready for 11th grade honors Algebra 2 and American Literature. While she feels he could also handle honors chemistry, we're keeping him in college prep as he only has a limited number of hours a day for school, so the amount of work involved in 3 honors courses might be too much. That was it for good news.

I got a cut through your heart letter today - in the cycles of grief, he'd definitely spiraled back from depression to anger. It was incredibly cruel, and addressed only to me. He denied that he'd intended to use the knife I'd found in his room to hurt himself, but then went on to let me know that he was more apt to commit suicide in the future because of what I was doing- and that when he did, he'd make sure that he would do it in a horrible manner, and make sure that I would find him. I immediately called his therapist to see if he was in a safe frame of mind. They had actually just finished speaking, and he reassured me that he was fine...and that the letter was designed to hurt me- which it had. He recommended that my response be brief and just focus on the fact that extreme statements like that were one of the reasons he'd been enrolled in the program - period. This is another learning moment for me, as my tendency had always been to ignore my feelings, and focusing on addressing the pain underneath his behavior. Responding to a letter like that with a cool reply is a foreign concept to me. I think I need to process this a bit more, and sleep on it before drafting my reply.

Day 12

His school has concluded that he best way to deal with this "situation" is to close out his grades at the end of the third term - giving him full credit for 10th grade, even though he didn't complete the year. I had asked for them to send the rest of the material up to the facility, as they have teachers who would go over it with him. The answer was no - they were just going to declare him done. So, we're working with the distance learning coordinator to make sure he's mastered all the 10th grade material in English and Geometry before moving on to 11th grade. The will be gaps in History, Biology, and Spanish that we can either accept, or figure out how to deal with later.

In order to get the credit for the year, however, we needed a note from his pediatrician, which I picked up and dropped off today.

This situation is really frustrating - as this seems to be the worst sort of "social promotion"...I think they are reluctant to provide the materials because that would acknowledge that someone needs to assume responsibility for his education while he's there...and if it's them, they need to pay for it. So just saying "Yep, he's done!' is simpler.

Day 11

No letter today, so I'm assuming he's realized that asking us to bring him home won't work, and we'll only be receiving the required two letters home a week. I did write to him to today to let him know that we could not pass the letter he sent to his girlfriend on to her. That was very painful to write, as I know how much that will hurt him. But as the therapist said, he needs to work on his own issues-- without distractions. He will probably feel more betrayed by that action than by the fact that we sent him there in the first place.

The other news was good--more or less--he's being polite, cooperative, and working hard...although he still hasn't identified anything he needs to work on. The therapist feels it's unlikely he'll be ready to see us at the next family weekend in May- which means it will be the last weekend in July before we see him.

His pediatrician called tonight, and reassured me that this was necessary- that it was highly unlikely that our son would pull out of this on his own. I know that in my head; I'm still waiting for my heart to catch up.

Day 10

I got most of the paperwork filled out today (but still have to complete the detailed biography). One of the forms we had to complete was an agreement that we undergo family therapy with a local therapist while he's in the program. They feel that will help ensure that the changes he's making "stick"...it's a formal acknowledgment that we need to change, too. So, while he's hopefully digging deep to learn about himself, we need to dig deep, too.

Day 9

It appears he's stopped writing to us, and is now only writing to his sister. That may be the beginning of acceptance that he's there. We got our first web update today- it included two pictures. One was awful, he's smiling at the camera with the horrible grin--although his mouth is curved in a smile, his face looks pained, and his eyes are red. The other is better. He's working chopping up wood. The note he included with the web update said (in part) "I can't say that I am happy in the least bit, but at least I am getting in shape."

The letter to his sister, though, raised another issue. He included a letter that he wants her to forward on to his "ex-girlfriend-but-its-complicated." I like the girl a lot, but the facility has said that this is not a good idea. I guess we'll talk to his therapist on Monday to see how to handle it.

Day 8

Well, its been a week. If he's there 8 months, that means we're about 1/32 of the way through this...so we're still on the starting line.

I chose to let his sister open the letter herself. She read it, and then asked me if I'd like to read it. He just asked her to contact his band members and his ex-girlfriend (well actually in Facebook terms it's probably more of "in a relationship but its complicated" than ex), just so that they'd know what had happened, and didn't think he was ignoring them. No plots or pleas to break him out...just a well reasoned letter saying he was sorry he hadn't gotten to know her better, and that he hoped he'd be home before she went to college. He ended with a request that she write to him every day. I can't see anything but good coming from that - what brother and sister exchange written letters on a daily basis in this day and age?

So my mood one week in? I have a hole in my heart because he's not here. It's a similar feeling I had when his oldest sister left for college - but in that case I could call, or text...or go see her for dinner. This is very different. He's in a place where I can't call, or see him - and can only write every other day. That's the first therapeutic intervention for me - reducing the number of letters I write to him. My husband was concerned that it would appear "unbalanced" if I wrote daily and he wrote once a week...and the therapist agreed...so we compromised on me only writing every other day. I knew that I would need to make some changes as part of the family recovery process-- but didn't think it would affect something so fundamental as how often I wrote. The therapist said that most kids only hear from their parents once a week! So, I write every day - but only send the letter every other day.

Day 7

No letters for us today. Hopefully that means he's beginning to accept that he's there for a while, and is beginning to work the program. It could just mean he's given up on us rescuing him, but I think I'll try to be optimistic.

He did write to his sister today. This means we have a decision. The therapist suggests we screen the mail, to make sure he's not asking her to pass messages to his friends. Part of me thinks that's a good idea, but the rest of me feels that's a real violation of an 18 year old's privacy. I think the best way to handle it is to explain what's at stake and ask if she's comfortable saying "no" to him if he asks her to contact anyone for him, or if she'd prefer us to act as a buffer.

Day 6

We received 5 letters today. It appears he's moved on from anger to bargaining. Each letter was an articulate plea for us to give him one more chance. He highlighted all the people who would miss him, even including the teachers who'd worked so hard to get him through this year...and begged us to let him come home and go to therapy here.

Earlier in the day, I had found a few surprises in his closest-- an empty vodka bottle, and one of my kitchen knifes. Not a little paring knife--but an 8 inch fillet knife. I can't imagine what it was doing there, but if anything convinced me we;d done the right thing, finding that knife did. Perhaps there's an innocent explanation, but I can't think of one.

His therapist says he seems to be settling in, and has made a good start by associating with the kids who are "working the program" rather than the "hard nuts" who are resisting. So, although he may not be on totally on board yet, he's at least moving in the right direction.

Day 5

I received a ton of paperwork from the facility to be completed. Everything from a detailed biography to various release forms for drug stores, doctors, and the like. We were also contacted about clothes and personal items he still needs...so I guess today was an "administrivia" day.

Even in the midst of working through grief and loss, the administrative details that structure our lives go on. Somehow in the next few days I need to pull together an amended financial aid petition for my daughter (the costs of our son's placement might tip the balance for eligibility), complete all the paperwork the facility requires (including the aforementioned biography), begin the process to refinance the house (so we can get the money to pay the facility), get his pediatrician to sign a form stating he can't complete the school year for medical reasons, and get his academic records released from his high school, and shop for and ship the remaining required clothes he needs. Perhaps this is the universe's way of letting me know I need to pull myself together...by burying myself in busywork?

Day 4

We had our first family session with the therapist this morning. It didn't include our son, however -- he won't be participating until his therapist feels that interacting with us will be productive -- which will probably be in 1- 2 months when he's graduated to Level 2. The therapist's best guess is that he will probably be home somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Both the therapist and the psychiatric nurse at the school think that SSRIs are probably indicated, so they asked our permission to have him see the psychiatrist. That won't happen until the beginning of May, when he's settled in a bit more and can be better assessed.

We got our first letter today he wrote it shortly after arriving on Friday morning. It was a fairly well-written articulate plea for us to change our minds. I cried. Here are his closing words: "...don't ever say that you love me again because I want my life back. I will not send this letter with love because I look inside my heart and I find heartbreak, betrayal, and disloyalty and nothing more since this morning."

Day 3

I've moved his phone into his room, so I wouldn't hear the buzzing. It's not ringing as often,however. We need to figure out the best way to tell the friends he has who aren't local. Most of his friends know, I think, as we called his closest friends' parents to let them know what was going on. One subdued boy came by to drop off some things our son had left at his house...and mentioned that he thought this was "pretty drastic". I guess that plays into the popular perception that it's "just weed." But, it's not just weed...it's the distance, the not caring, the pain, the disengagement, the depression...everything that the "just weed" was helping him hide from.

The assistant unit manager called us tonight to give us a summary of his day. He finished all of his writing last night, so he came off impact at 8am this am, and was integrated into the group. He was very sad and tearful most of the day, even resorting to cutting the back of his hand with a rock. The woman I spoke to said that she sat down and talked with him about it-- he said it was the only thing he could do with his feelings. She had him come up with a safety contract that identified some other things he could do, such as write to us, talk to staff, write in his journal, or ask to speak with a peer mentor.

She said that he was pretty tearful most of the day, but did seem better when he was assigned the job of preparing dinner with another resident. They made spaghetti with sauce from scratch, salad, and bread sticks. After dinner they are having a campfire with music, and there are a few residents with guitars he can borrow, which should help him.

The other thing she said was that he said he knew why he was there--he said that his parents though he was depressed and unhappy, and he had shut us out of his life, so we didn't know what was going on with him.

Day 2

The house is quiet. No ''Call of Duty'', no Slipknot, no boy-noises...just an unanswered cellphone that seems to be buzzing constantly...a reminder of the fact that my son did have a life with friends who, whatever they were involved in, care about him and wonder where he went. Most of the names I know, but there are a fair number of strange names, and phone numbers without a name assigned. Are these innocent numbers--or evidence of the dark life that led us to make this drastic choice?

I talk to a friend of a friend who says when her son was taken, she hid all the baby pictures, as looking at his smiling-toddler-face made her cry. She reassured me that they are "all back now"...but it took several years and multiple placements for things to work out for them. The thought that this may be the beginning of a several year process terrifies me.

My son's therapist calls from the facility, to reassure me that he's doing okay, ate breakfast, and is continuing with his writing assignments. I get a second call after dinner from another staff member, reassuring me that he's eating, and finishing up his writing. Its cool in Maine this evening, so he's made himself a fire, and is sitting by it finishing up his assignments. They expect him to be ready to join the community tomorrow. Is that good news? I guess we're on track with the "normal" progression of the program.

I've sent off two letters so far-- both full of inane details about things that are irrelevant to what he's going through...I know he hates me now...and I wonder if I've severed that mother-child bond finally and irrevocably.

I alternately cry, and feel numb.

Entering his room I find marijuana and a scale. Does this mean we acted too late? Or just in time?

Day 1

Our son's therapist called around 8:30 am to let us know that he had arrived safely, and had participated cooperatively during the intake process. When I asked how he was doing, the therapist responded that if 1 was out of control, and 10 was perfect, he was "about a 9"...not happy to be there, but interested in checking the place and the other kids out.

He was given writing materials, brought to a circle of stones, where he was given his first assignment: write letters to his parents, his therapist and himself, write a statement about "why I am here", and write an autobiography that is at least 15 pages long. When these assignments are completed, he will join the rest of the community. Although he'll be sleeping in the bunkhouse with the rest of the boys, no one is allowed to talk to him until he's finished his assignments. The process can take 2-3 days, and we'll be notified when he moves on.

Another staff member called me later in the morning to let me know that although he'd been very tearful when he arrived, he was being compliant, and had written two of the letters so far. He also had questions about when and how often my son used his asthma inhaler.

Mid-day, I got a third phone from his unit leader letting me know that he'd completed all the letters, as well as the "why I am here" essay, and was starting on doing some drawings and autobiography. She also let me know that his urine did test positive for marijuana, but he was negative for all the other substances they test for during intake. Good news of sorts. The bad news was that he was refusing food. This is not uncommon when he is depressed--but what had always happened at home was that he would not eat all day, then get high and eat voraciously.

His therapist touched base with me again at 4:30, to let me know that he was writing prolifically. A few hours later, I got another phone call from his unit leader. She said he had written a second letter to us, and had begun eating. She also then mentioned two "non standard" things that had been done for him. He'd asked for a tent to use in the contemplation area, to give him some privacy. They provided one, and he set it up. And, despite the usual practice of not allowing new arrivals to talk during the reflection days, they had a peer mentor who was almost ready for graduation come out to talk to him.

I must say that the constant communication from the facility today has been awesome. And the fact that they are not afraid to modify their usual practices to meet the needs of an individual child demonstrates that they are truly concerned with what best serves each child. I'm still extremely depressed--and hoping I did the right thing--but I'm reassured that the caliber of the people that are looking after him is first rate.

Transport

They arrived promptly at 4 am. Two tall young men who were to escort my unwilling son into his new world--ripping him away from all he had wrapped around himself for comfort.

My husband and I had spent a restless few hours tossing and turning, not really sleeping, as we anticipated their arrival. At 3:52 we were standing in the cold in our driveway, each looking at our part of the speech that our son's therapist had helped us craft earlier in the morning--the words we'd use to explain to him why we were sending him off with strangers in the middle of the night.

The woman we had booked the transport with had assured us that she was sending her "A Team", who would be able to get our son to accompany them without resorting to physical force. The two men who appeared were tall, likeable, and young. We gave them envelopes with paperwork for the facility and the transport agency, and another smaller envelope containing letters we'd written to be given to our son while they were on the road. We explained the layout of our house, and brought them inside.

Our son was sleeping, but woke immediately when we walked in. I gently touched his head, and told him that I loved him, and because of our concerns for his health and safety,and his refusal to get help, we felt we had no choice but to send him to a program that would help him get well. My husband introduced the escorts, and we left the room.

We'd been advised to leave the house, but were concerned that our 18 year old daughter would wake up while this was going on, so we chose to sit in the dark living room downstairs while the escorts convinced our son to go with them. We sat apart, not touching, each lost in our own world of grief. I wept silently while listening to my son plead with them not to "rip me away from my life", "please let me talk to my parents", "why would they do this to me?", and "I'm getting myself together...things are going well...I'm exercising, I have a girlfriend...I've quit smoking...please don't do this."

I have never done anything harder in my life. The school guidance counselor, who has tried valiantly to help our son over the past two years had called what we were contemplating doing "barbaric"...and as I listened to him cry, I felt that she may have been right.

We listened to him progress through anger, denial, and negotiation...all the while the escorts stayed calm, but firm, got him up, down the stairs and out the front door. It seemed like an eternity, but probably only took about 10 minutes.

This was either the most courageous, or the most horrendous, thing I have ever done in my entire life.

Decision

Tolstoy opened Anna Karenina with the line "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." This is our unhappy family's story.

I have a wonderful, kind, bright, talented son who has been depressed since sixth grade. He never felt that he fit in, and once middle school hit, began selecting friends with similar low self esteem, gravitating to dark music, violent video games, and assuming all the trappings of an alternative-drug-using-lifestyle. By the time he was a sophomore in high school, he had been suspended from school twice, was getting high on a daily basis, and was dealing marijuana to support his habit. His cigarette smoking had created a chronic cough, and he'd woken up twice this month coughing up blood. Two weeks ago, he told me that he wished he was dead, and although he was "safe" for now, would probably commit suicide to end the drama. He refused to return to his therapist, and the school suggested we have him evaluated as an inpatient at the local psychiatric hospital.

Obviously, something needed to be done. Our pediatrician suggested a residential treatment facility for troubled teens. I had heard horrible things about these programs--boot camps and wilderness programs that used extreme measures to convince kids to change their ways--with risk of psychological and physical harm. This program appeared to be different--more therapeutic, with an emphasis on reshaping character through experiences...essentially "re-parenting" the child in a way that we couldn't...providing structure, support, and natural consequences to allow the child to rebuild their self-esteem and establish goals for themselves.

After tears and soul searching, we decided we had no choice but to try. Although the thought of being physically separated from my child for 6-9 months is unbearable, I needed to accept that I could no longer help him. As a mother, the best thing I could do for him was to surrender control of my child to others...and pray that I was making the best decision.

Hopefully this story will have a happy ending.