Ok, forgive me because I am a bit buzzed as I write this. (My 50 year old close gal called and needed to get out, she NEVER does this, so after close to 10 years of her being a hermit, I went and had a drink or two with her.)
Today I went to counseling with my son. It was a serious situation.
Background: He is 15 and quite a wonderful young man. He has Tourettes and depression and ADD. He gets it all honest. With his high IQ and lack of social desire and skills, he has overcome extreme obstacles. He went from a suicidal state at age 8 to an exceptional studunt, wonderful son and truly aspires to reach great levels in education and has such a strong interest in Music. The world is before him and he cannot see it. Lately though he has become overwhelmed.
This has led to depression, mood swings and basically he cannot stand my guts nor find any joy in life. Seeing he was in such a state at 8 years of age this has thrown my world into a huge tailspin. I know he needs some help, counseling, therapy or meds to pull him out of this and every step I take to help him leads to resentment towards me. He does not want something to be wrong with him. It is a delicate problem.
Today as we go for help, he is glaring at me and I am trying to keep a step ahead of every tactic that he can throw in my path of getting him some help.
The psych walks in and he has a half bald head that is overgrown with this mop of wild hair. It looks as if he took a huge blowdryer to his landing strip on his head and he starts spouting something out of a scientific comic book. My son, nor I understood a thing he said. His pants were hiked up like Erckel of that TV show, and he really needs some social skills himself.
We consent to a QEEG test because we don't understand a thing this wild PiCa Chu looking man is saying and it sounds like he knows something we don't have an answer and he can talk fast and has enough where-with-all to dress and look as he does and... well, "What do we know because we have resorted to glaring and sitting in different corners."
He rattled off something about hair gel, no joke and it sounded like he mentioned suction cups on my sons head.
So he left the room and we both, as angry, as we were decided to laugh till we cried. Tears rolling down our faces and no control in sight.
We went to make an appointment and we still could not stop.
The receptionist is trying to make an appointment and asks what is funny. We cannot tell her.."Your boss," so we continue laughing.
We laughed all the way home.
It really was strange to be so depressed and angry, hurt and confused, and then end up laughing till we cried.
It felt good.
Laughter truly is the best medicine. Maybe we should just read Readers Digest instead?