Hypnotherapist.

We went to the hypnotherapist today. My son had been having a slightly more positive day, but after seeing her he went downhill. He thought she was rubbish - a "stupid cow" in his words. Personally I thought she was lovely and very good with him.

I have done my best to be calm and positive with him tonight. He went to bed in pieces but I managed to calm him down. I used something my dad taught me - imagining you are lying in the warm sun, touching the sand with your fingers and feeling the sun move up your body from the toes to the top of your head, relaxing your muscles as it goes, releasing the tension out of the ends of your fingers and the top of your head. I was amazed as he completely calmed down, relaxed and went to sleep.

I took my eldest boy to football training and on the way back I stopped in the driveway to phone my mum. Funny how mums are needed even when your 48. Actually my brother answered the phone and I had a mini melt down with him. I spend so much of my time being strong for everyone that sometimes I just have to let it all go. I still have written nothing for my essay and have just now finished planning my lesson for tomorrow. It's 23.19 and I feel rather empty.

A good night's sleep will make me feel better, but I dread each morning, having to go into his bedroom, not knowing how he will be.

Its just a few weeks ago, February, that he was fine. When we get through this I am going to appreciate every song he sings, every joke he tells, everything.

And so life continues ...

An incredibly frustrating day with my son clinging to me most of the day, not eating because he's frightened he will be sick. I have not been able to do any reading or plan my lesson for tomorrow. I don't feel capable of doing those things. All I want is this to be over.

I have to face work tomorrow which I am dreading. The difficulties between the woman I work with and myself got worse before Easter as although she is being nicer to me after I threatened a bullying in the work place action, she still treats the children with coldness and disdain. I am not prepared to stand by and watch that so raised it in what was to be our last meeting with our line manager. If looks could have killed I would be stone dead.

So, all in all life is not a bundle of roses right now, if that's the right expression - I fear not.

At least I have managed to get an appointment for my son with the hypnotherapist. I really hope she is able to do something for him. He seems up for it, which is good.

I am feeling like such a bad mother. I have struggled with motherhood and right now although I am doing my best to be calm and loving I just want to scream. Surely I should be filled with compassion and caring concern? Actually I am just totally pissed off with the whole situation. I wonder if I am somehow to blame for all of it. Did I react in a way that triggered it all when my son threw up that night?

I am also really afraid that after 3 years of bloody hard work on my Degree course I am going to end up failing because of this.At the moment, on this module, I am averaging 89.75%, but I have an essay due in a week on Thursday and God knows how I am going to be able to write it.

I am one exhausted, frustrated woman.

Emetophobia

I am beginning to forget what ordinary life is like. I've just realised that I forgot to go to my Pilates class half an hour ago as I was dealing with my son again. I have done only an hour of reading for my OU course this holiday because of the stress of it all.

I need to plan a lesson for tomorrow too, but when you are trying to be supportive and calm the things that you need to do in your life go out of the window. I found myself the other day, out and about, and finding any excuse not to come home. As I eventually did drive home my tummy filled with dread the closer I got.

I have found out that the reason for my son's misery is his fear of being sick. This is, apparently, a very common fear and this fear creates the domino effect of anxiety and misery. I have contacted a friend who is a hypnotherapist in the hope that this might help. My father was a big believer in hypnotherapy, using it in his work as a GP.

Tomorrow my boys go back to school and I have been in touch with the Student Support centre who say I can drop him off with them first thing and then they will get him into lessons. Fingers crossed it will go ok.

In the meantime I am eating for England. groan.

Trying to be normal in the face of despair.

The last couple of days have been very hard. Yesterday I comforted my son as he screamed and sobbed, begging me to kill him. He just kept saying that he wanted to die.

I found the strength from somewhere to stay very calm and eventually he calmed down and was exhausted.

Our doctor has been very understanding, although things are moving very slowly. He faxed CAMHS again to ask them to phone us and maybe move our appointment closer. The appointment has not been moved yet, but I was called today by a lovely lady who gave me encouragement. Basically we are doing all we can do. There is no magic cure. She did give me the number of a Mental Health Helpline, so at least I can talk to someone if it gets really bad.

This is so draining and I am aware that I am wandering about with hair that looks like crap and no make up - not like me at all. I must be careful not to let myself go down the route of depression, especially when my husband goes back to work on Sunday.

My eldest son is being incredible. He is just wonderful - so solid and yet not losing his wry sense of humour.

So, onwards and upwards. We all played tennis together today and the boys are off out now to play football. I am off to get food for tomorrow night when we are having friends over. We have both thought about cancelling, but we both think that we need a night with good friends and a few drinks. They will understand the situation.

Right. I must get going.Thanks for reading.

A bad day.

I feel exhausted. We have been away for a few days visiting my brother and this evening my son is like a shadow. I have been snuggling with him and then took him up to bed. Now my husband is with him.

I cannot believe this is the same boy I have known and nurtured for 12 years. Our appointment with the counsellor is 9th May. 28 days to wait. Jesus Christ. And this is an urgent referral.

I feel past crying. Past anything but emptiness. He sat in the back seat of the car on the way home, silently dripping tears. He is worried about everything, sad about everything. He is only 12 for fucks sake.

We just have to keep loving him, keep reassuring him.

When he has bad days like this its hard to remember the good days.

Another day in Paradise.

So, today was going really well. Time to do what we all wanted to do. I made chizo and butter bean soup for lunch and my husband bought more gravel for my allotment paths. At the allotment I planted herbs and potatoes as well as laying gravel on two more pathways.

I delayed going home in the hope that some other bugger i.e my husband might cook dinner. What a stupid thought. I arrived home to find that the boys were all out playing football so I defrosted sausages and phoned my sister in law.

My man arrived home and magnanimously put the sausages in the oven as well as tidying the kitchen. Although, when I say tidy I don't actually mean anything as radical as wiping surfaces or clearing completely ...

So then things went from me being grumpy ... to worse. My son went downhill rapidly which had the domino effect of making both my husband and I touchy. Then my older son tried to put food on my younger son's plate and my husband had a go at him, telling him, finally to "shut up". What a knob. There is just no call for such aggressive behaviour and it pisses me off completely.

At times like this I have to choose my battles as my husband has the propensity to sulk for days. Son #1 went upstairs and stayed there. I followed him and did my best to talk him round. Then I came down to talk to my husband. I told him that things were tough for all of us, including our eldest, and that he was unnecessarily aggressive to him. Of course that precipitated the emergence of the martyr which pissed me off even more. Sometimes it is like dealing with another child, and a pretty stupid one at that.

I hope to God he never finds this blog or I'm in deep doo doo.

To give him his due he went upstairs and told son #1 that he loved him. He is a fundamentally good man. Its just that he finds it hard to cope with a son who is an intelligent young man.

Right now we are on separate sofas with him watching the Masters Golf ( YAWN!!!) and me on my lap top. Some days I just wish I could walk away from all this.

Trying to be normal.

Today has been a better day. Although my son started off feeling sad and saying that there are only ten days of holiday left we kind of ignored him and treated him like a toddler who is having a tantrum. He eventually came downstairs and was fine.

My husband and I have joined a gym so we went off for our induction, leaving both boys at home. It was such a relief to have time together, just the two of us. Our relationship has been strained since February when we went skiing and he was, frankly, a pain in the arse. We actually enjoyed each others company this morning, although I did feel somewhat disappointed when he chose Tescos over my suggestion of the pub ...

Still, its a start. Over lunch my son has been a tad over the top, but not too bad. I can cope with the over the top happiness one hell of a lot better than with the sobbing and threats of suicide.

We have started to make sure we eat every meal at the table - no lazy lunches in front of the telly. Putting everything out in dishes so we can all help ourselves is a great improvement. My boy's eating has improved by 100% and doesn't seem to be an issue any more. This is thanks to my mum. My God but she has come through for us lately. We have had our ups and downs in the past, but she really is a rock and bloody astute too. We left the boys with her last Saturday as we were out late in London and when we got up on Sunday she had made notes on her observations of our son. As an ex nurse she is an experienced head who can look from a little more distance at our situation.

Well, that's it for now. I can't tell you what a relief it is to be able to write everything down, knowing that I am anonymous here. x

My first post.

This my first post on this, my new blog. This is to be my place of sanity. A place where I can write the things that are really bothering me, but can't write on my everyday blog. This is a place where nobody I know in real life will ever find me. I hope. I hope this will not be a place of misery or negativity, but if it is then please understand. I am not losing my mind. I am saving it by writing these words that otherwise swell up inside me like bitter poison.

I have been shopping with my son today. He is 12 and over the last several weeks he has suffered from anxiety ... depression. It came on shortly after we came back from holiday in February. He was violently sick before we left, well during the week and then started to be nervous, worry. He stopped eating. He began to talk of killing himself - wanting the feeling of sadness to end.

There is nothing so awful as holding your previously healthy son in your arms as he keens in misery - wailing and sobbing, his whole body wracked with despair, begging to be put out of his agony.

We took him for blood tests - normal. We tried to go privately to get help - our insurance wouldn't cover it. Our GP was lovely and referred him urgently to CAMHS   . We have an appointment with them in May. May.

We link his unhappiness to a mixture of hormones, new school and worrying about my husband and I. Especially my husband who hates his job and around whom we tend to walk on eggshells. He is our rock, but when he is unhappy or sad it affects the whole family.

My son has good days and bad days, but we never know what each morning will bring. Yesterday, after a couple of good days, he slipped back into his misery - howling, sobbing, wanting to be dead. I feel as though this is too much for my husband. I am coping alone. At work the other day I just broke down.

Today he is up and down. Our shopping trip was a nightmare as he goes from being suicidal to bouncing off the walls, singing and shouting. I am exhausted by his behaviour and frustrated by my husband's lack of understanding. Don't get me wrong - he is trying, but it is just too much for him to understand. But I feel myself getting so angry. I want to scream at my son to 'SHUT UP!!!!' but of course I don't.

I cannot believe that a boy of 12 has to wait so long to get help. By the time we have the first appointment with CAMHS it will be 3 months. 3 months coping with this sort of behaviour is horrendous. The one good thing is his school and their support. Without them I don't know where we would be.

Well ... that feels a bit better. At last I have written things down in a way other than factual diaries to take to the psychiatrist