In January, after making it through the first year of her daddy's death, Brooke slipped into a depression.
I contacted the professional I worked with from the Suicide Crisis Agency that I had spoken with after Keith's suicide last year. She said it is very common in adults and in children to make it through the first year of a death successfully only to have depression slip in during the second year.
Survival is the first year. The second year is the reality of "this is how life is now."
This, plus Mariah's dads diagnosis of Lou Gehrig's was a bad combination for any adult, let alone a child. Brooke was ready for help.
Knowing I don't have time to play around with just any counselor, I was in search of the best of the best.
I was referred to a specialist in this area that is an expert in traumatic stress, certified in traumatic loss and experiences, chronic/terminal illness, depression and more. She has much experience in war zones, working with military families and conducts seminars to professionals in the medical, educational and social service fields. She is a founding member of the county's Traumatized Child Task Force. Her credentials go on ...
It's easy to pick the best doctor or specialist when insurance pays ... but my insurance did not cover this. At $100 per hour, I am so relieved to say tonight was our last session. Brooke is doing great. In fact, she wanted tonight to be all happy thoughts, because everything is going so well and there is nothing negative that she can think of to share. She is just happy.
I am thankful.
Tonight I wanted to talk to the specialist alone, before Brooke came in. I wanted her professional feedback of our quest through recovery. She gave Brooke a clean bill of health, that Brooke has an amazing support system of love and it made all the difference.
She also told me two times that I went over and beyond doing every thing right in helping my daughter. That I could not have done more. Her words meant everything. Today's $100 = PRICELESS!
I told her there were no rule books to follow.
We made it through her daddy's suicide.
We made it through a tough year of new firsts.
We made it through depression.
We made it.
