So there I was, writing about all the positives that are coming out of this experience at the moment when off went the alarm bells inside my head...
"F*ck it!!!!" came the loud shout from Ben's bedroom accompanied by a fist slamming down on his desk.
"What's all that about?" I said, going upstairs (clang, clang go the bells in my head).
"Trying to write a f*cking blog about food like U [the dietician] told me to do and the f*cking computer's not doing what it should be. I'm not f*cking bothering!"
To be frank, I'm not sure that a blog about food is what he needs to be doing right now... despite the dietician suggesting he redirect his obsession with all things food to doing something positive with it, like writing a blog, she said.
As he ignored me and looked like death at his keyboard, I said (much more calmly than I felt): "Today we begin to move forward again. And, you know me, I won't stop until you're through this and back in a better place. I do this because I love you, no other reason. You know what I'm like. Also, you might find me being a little more forceful over the next few days or whatever, more than I have been over the past months. But the only reason I'll be doing this is because I love you and want to lift you back up there again. Oh, and we're leaving at 11.30 to see the psych."
"Ben, can you respond please?"
"Ben, I know that you may feel you need to take it out on me and dad. But it's not nice and it hurts us, and you know we love you."
"I know you love me."
"So I'll see you at 11.30."
"Can you respond, please?"
"I just did!!!!"
Goes back to painting his models.
I think we're going to have to go in at the deep end this morning and forget all about getting S, the new psych, to assess him. We're going to have to go straight in and get some action.
Ding, dong, ding, dong...
And you can bet your back teeth he won't go to the reunion at school this evening...