The light never goes out…

… you know the one at the end of the tunnel. It’s still there, it’s just that the length of the pathway, the obstacles in my way and the stability of the road aren’t clear. And at the moment it feels very unstable and full of obstacles. Relentlessly so. I’m quite literally treading water with my energy, my body, my health. And I keep thinking “oooo, just gotta do x, y and z and then I can recover a little….” but then the list is scuppered by major dramas. Just to list a few to give an indication:

  • Major roof leak (on one section of the single-storey part of the house only)
  • Car drama – headlights stopped working, intermittently, couldn’t recreate scenario at the garage. Eventually got something sorted.
  • Logan’s sleep saga continues… although now we are back (begrudgingly) with Melatonin and this time we are actually seeing some more benefit than last time; it definitely hasn’t fixed the problem, but we are seeing more “good” nights (where there’s a more solid chunk of sleep).
  • Caitlin’s muscular issues have been fluctuating, and where we have had a more steady constant stream of physical activity, I am less able to predict what’s going to be too much (I am sure our super steep stairs do not help, some visitors actually get anxiety about coming down them).
  • Colds and Flu – I have SOOOOOOOOOOOO not been on top of our immunity routine. And although we have a very good diet, it just hasn’t been enough. Cue a series of colds, and what we think was the flu on the last batch.
  • Bank drama – 6 months after moving (5 months after no access to old house/address change) the bank decided to “accidentally” post some of our account details to an old address (I had been into the bank to change it personally as they wouldn’t do it over the phone/couldn’t online). So needless to say I am changing banks.
  • Therapy – each session seems to actually be leaving the kids feeling vulnerable afterwards and having an impact on behaviour for a week or two afterwards now. Which is good in some ways (it’s working, but it’s exhausting).
  • Uni – has started back up again, and I may have bitten off more than I can chew all things considered this year, but I’m the kind of person that makes things happen. I always have been.

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However, despite all the drama and exhaustion, we now have someone coming in to do the deeper clean of the bathroom, en suite and kitchen. And a volunteer from a wonderful charity called Home Start coming in to just give me a bit of human interaction once a week (and eventually we are hoping it’ll lead to respite for me, when the kids are able to trust her enough to listen to her whilst I am out of the room for long enough for me to just go read a bit, or soak a bit), and access to regular groups where the kids can just be themselves without me having to care.

AND on top of that, I actually got some me time. with a friend… a mini spa day (by mini I mean, no treatments just use of the facilities and a relax for a while). It was at the St Pierre Marriott Hotel and Country Club. I will not waste my time with a review – I will just say: we arrived to find staff talking about their desire to “get out of there” and travel and work cash in hand on the fly as they do, with little interest in us actually checking in/any queries. The facilities were tired and outdated. When we got in the jacuzzi, it was hard to relax for all the unregulated children running around screaming, and when they finally left I had a headache and couldn’t be bothered any longer. Got out to try and have lunch, and despite the bar being less than 25% seated, they told me food would be at least a 45 minute wait. Don’t even bother going. It wasn’t all to waste though, as I went by train so I got to enjoy listening to music on my MP3, whilst alternating between reading my Kindle and checking out the views!

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Regardless. I am here, plodding on, taking the obstacles as I come upon them. Some days life feels like it is moving forward. Some days it feels as if the weight of the world is against us (or rather me) and that I am fighting against it alone. But now it feels like we are balancing out a bit more, like the days moving forward are happening more. Still largely over shadowed by fighting and grief, but with a more constant presence of underlying peace and happiness.

 

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.