The Impossible Decision
This past week I have grappled not only with a decision my husband and I might be forced to make, but a decision we cannot even accept or rationalize exists. A decision beyond unfair for parents that may be forced to make it and even more unfair for the child that lives with a mental illness they did not choose.
Every day we pray we make it through one more day…one more night. We try to find comfort in knowing we might be making a decision that is best for our family (our other two children, our marriage and quite possibly (but without comfort) our own self-preservation. Despite our best efforts and every ounce of strength and determination over the last eighteen months, we are learning we may not always be able to make the best decision for our oldest daughter…instead today, tomorrow or the next…we may be forced to make the best decision for the rest. To choose amongst those you love most is the “impossible decision” and yet my husband and I may be forced to make it.
Nearly every day we battle the potential need for a change in medication, more medication, no medication, more “obvious’ support at school and certain increased bullying/depression, outpatient hospitalization, in-patient hospitalization or (beyond comprehension and certain heartbreak) removal from home. Treatment/solutions mentioned above are meant to help, but often come with consequence or additional sacrifice. Choices that are never that simple or obvious. Choices that often hurt one or some in an effort to help another/others. Choices others in your life may not understand or agree with, so the road is often lonely and misunderstood/mis-interpreted. Choices that are suddenly about survival for those in the trenches and less about the one braving the illness.
Despite best intentions of the many admirable mental healthcare providers that devote their life to helping others… the system (not the individual provider) often fails those who need support most. For this reason, I will continue to be grateful for opportunities to tell our story (like the Minnesota LPN Conference this past week) that encourage dialog amongst professionals and empower parents with courage and strength in numbers. This road cannot be traveled alone, but I am confident together we can eliminate the burden of “the impossible decision” for exhausted parents and the associated fear for children/youth that sadly understand the difficult and sometimes terrifying “choices” for an illness they cannot control.
(Picture is of our oldest daughter in 2020 - weeks before her first panic attack and months of hospitalization for a panic disorder that has never relented.)
