No Rest for the Wicked

I spent most of the weekend obsessing over El Nino and what to do about him. I got nothing. No answers, no ideas, no light bulbs going off over my head.

This morning, Ben went with us to the therapist's, which was a good thing, because the session ended up being just me talking to her, trying to get some sort of ideas. The problem with therapists is that they won't just tell you what you should do--you have to come up with everything on your own--so it wasn't wholly productive. I did tell her I was at that "last resort" point where I felt exploring medical options was necessary, and she didn't disagree. She suggested maybe if he's on anti-anxiety medication, he'll be able to calm down to the point of being able to learn new behavior patterns and get rid of the old ones.

So I called the insurance referral line when I got to work. They actually came through, and we have an appointment with a respected child psych group tomorrow morning. Damn, too bad they're not so responsive to adults with issues...

I've also been emailing with a chick I found on craigslist who is looking for a babysitting gig full-time. She told me this morning she's got a pierced lip and ears. I told her I could give a fuck less if she were the Tattooed Lady of Amsterdam as long as she does right by my kid and doesn't rob me blind.

I'm just so tired of being sad all the time. And scared. And worried. I'm tired of trying to balance doing the right thing for my son with doing the right thing for my court case. In my opinion, the two should be mutually exclusive--but they're not. I'm afraid the court will just see me not allowing DB regular phone contact with El Nino, not me trying to prevent him from doing further damage with his words.

But at this point, I don't fucking care. My kid is my first priority, and if a judge can't see that, then the system is too fucked to even try.

DB's really been working hard to build a case of his own, though. He's apparently called the therapist asking for records--she won't release them to him without my consent. He calls his lawyer every day to report my latest shenanigans. And he went so far as to call MY CELL PHONE friday night and leave a threatening message that my not allowing him to talk to El Nino is "unacceptable and my lawyer WILL be hearing about this."

Really? Ask me if I fucking care. While you're at it, tell your lawyer about the fun things you say when you DO talk to your son.

And I talked to the sheriff's office today. They don't go knocking on doors for non-felony warrants, so basically the only way DB will get arrested is if he gets pulled over for something. Gee, sure glad I filed that complaint. What's the fucking point?

Well--maybe I spoke too soon. I called the prosecutor's office after I talked to the Sheriff, and the prosecutor's office rep just called me back and said she knew who to talk to at the Sheriff's office and she'd light a fire under him, "he's real hot to trot on all these warrants, he doesn't care what they're for."

Maybe they'll arrest him, maybe not. I just want him to answer for his actions.

I also told my lawyer today in an email that I would not be sharing specific information re: the child psych appointment with DB as long as he wants to be part of the problem and not the solution. Like I said--shooting myself in the foot, perhaps, in a legal sense, but I don't fucking care.

I just want to stop the headaches. Literally. I'm taking Aleve like vitamins these days.