Enjoying some self care

No one will quite understand this unless the are a SEND or LAC/post-LAC parent… but I’ve been a bit pong-y today. I’m now fresh out of an uninterrupted 10 minute shower, where I not only got to shave what could only be described as “manly” pits, but I also washed my hair, quite literally 3 times. 3. Why? Cause I liked the way the suds felt in my hair AND I had the time to… and I used a fresh towel to dry myself. A nice crisp clean one that no dirty hands had dare touch. And shortly I fully intend to thoroughly brush my teeth for 2 whole minutes, instead of the usual flick around, job done.

May seem disgusting or TMI to mention. May even seem so trivial and small, bordering unpostable, to some. But in reality to me, it’s pretty major. These simple things are often overlooked for primary caregivers of SEND or children in/from care. Unless you live it you don’t really see the sacrifices, not even as a parent of children who haven’t faced trauma, or don’t have SEND. So I thought I would post, to reassure those out there with compassion fatigue, approaching caregiver burn out, you aren’t alone, I stink and am too hairy most of the time too… and to take your moment when you can, to enjoy that 10 minutes if and when you can, to destink. You’re worth it.

Up and about

Well, despite low levels of energy, Nanny and Grandad have been up with Max (my brother, whose been mentioned before – he’s 10 months older than Logan). They have stayed for the week, which has both helped and hindered the recovery (mental health is up some, but physical exhaustion is down low, the heat is not helping).

But we have had quite some time out of the house. The weekend should afford me enough down time to update, post reviews and generally get back on top of things.

But I thought I should come on and say how pleasing it is to be off the sofa! 😀

Getting better: it’s hard.

When you are ill or suffering from post illness chronic fatigue, it is vital that you rest. But it’s really hard because somethings in life don’t just stop when you are ill. You still have to get on with things, and when you are primary carer to 2 complex children the days are very much arduous like a full time, demanding job. So “rest” isn’t really rest. You have to be continuously on your toes.

However, I am slowly getting up and about a bit more. Trying to push myself to get out of the house for an hour or two here and there. But I get tired very, very quickly. And because the children are seeing my health waver up and down, it’s been made all the more difficult; when they see me not being strong their anxiety and therefore hyper-vigilance rises. In turn, out comes the emotional behaviour.

Anyhow. When we haven’t been out and when I have been sofa bound, I have been trying to distract the children by getting them doing bits and bobs. They have been taking massive pride in being able to help with chores. They have been asking to do academic worksheets. They have done crafts, cooking and letter writing. A particular favourite was making slime (as per these instructions). And most of it has been achieved at a distance.

 

Adoption: why does it create burnout?

As per my previous post (Burnout) my body is so burnt out that a cold turned into a chest infection. 2 weeks later I’m still getting over it and knowing my body well and how it feels I can see I’m going to be battling chronic fatigue now. This is the result of secondary trauma, compassion fatigue and a support system that doesn’t work. Adoption isn’t hard because of the kids. Adoption is hard because of a system that’s too weak to support the children’s needs.

They are only entitled to basic medical needs on NHS (if they needed A&E through accidental, or if they had a medical problem like anaemia or asthma etc.) Anything mental health, sensory, behavioural and developmental must be done through the Adoption support (because the NHS won’t even look into until they know it’s not ado[tion related). Which means, £5000 is their cap on therapeutic support and specialist equipment. £2500 is the cap for assessing. Meaning they can be assessed once in a year. If one of them needed a specialist car seat (which we are on the border of needing) it costs £2200+. So we’d have the option to self fund that £2200 bill, or to halve our current therapy which is only 8 sessions per year as it is.

Adoption is not hard because of the kids. Adoption is hard because of the fights you have to go through to get their basic needs met. Because of the circles you run in trying to prove whether their needs are medical or adoption related (don’t even go there if the two overlap – dyspraxia/DCD+ attachment related development and sensory issues).By the time you finish the fight, there’s pretty much nothing left for the children who need all of your energy and attention to help them heal. Do you fight, and neglect them whilst you fight? Or do you not fight, and neglect them by not getting them what they need? Either way, they are left neglected in some form. It’s not right.

The children are being removed through experiences of neglect, and in turn they are being setup to be neglected in some way shape or form. Us adopters aren’t robots or machines. We have a finite amount of energy. Things shouldn’t be made so difficult for us to help the children. I made the selfish choice to adopt, to become a mum. But I did it not knowing they’d be refused all they need. It is torture to watch. Exhausting to live. And isolating.

Things need to change. Not just for us as a family, but nationally, as I know we are just one in a picture of thousands of families in similar situations. We didn’t mess our children up, we are trying to pick the pieces up, unsupported. It’s like trying to push toothpaste back into a tube that’s still being squeezed. It’s not working.

Burnout

So as you could potentially fathom from my last post followed by my subsequent silence, I’m quite burnt out right now.

This is what happens when you are primary carer to one, or more (our case obviously two), highly traumatised children. When there is no relief, when they cannot be in school and cannot cope with you away from the home. When the “early intervention” hasn’t happened and you have been left unsupported. When you have been pushed to send them to school to find out retrospectively, that your gut was right, you now have professional input stating they “really cannot even begin to cope in a classroom right now, let alone learn in or socialise in a school environment”.

I had a cold 2 weeks ago, it developed and turned into a chest infection that I am still in the process of getting over. Caitlin had it and struggled for approximately 12 hours. I promote a really healthy diet that means their immune systems are very good (as she suffers with glue ear, and when she’s ill goes deaf and as a consequence gets anxious and self harms).

When you are burnt out as a carer, literally the smallest cold can completely topple your world.

I had to take a step back from everything. Even parenting right now is borderline too much activity in the day. I will be back, but more rest is required. I am on the up now, which is why I have had time to write.I have not disappeared and the chaos family isn’t disbanding. I am just exceedingly burnt out and ill as a result.

Back soon.