In two minds, need to have a chat with Ben...

Okay so Dr J "got it" very quickly the other day but I've been mulling things over and keep going back to the time when, near the end of Ben's CAMHS treatment, when I felt as if the therapists were simply opening can after can of worms rather than actually helping to move things forward.

Dr J gets to the heart of the matter

So far I like everything about Dr Joanne (except the fact she is so expensive!). Her background is CAMHS - not from our city but from a neighbouring town. I only wish we'd had her as Ben's therapist from Day One. Within 20 minutes or so of our (second) session with her today she'd got right to the heart of the matter i.e. the key problems that still remain from the eating disorder.

Why do I attend Ben's new psych sessions?

Once we'd arranged to see Dr Joanne, the new psych, I asked Ben if he'd like me to sit in on sessions "as an observer and occasional contributor" or if he'd like to see her alone. Frankly I didn't mind which. Since Ben turned a corner in October 2010 we'd always seen CAMHS together because, as Ben said, we were working on this "as a team". And Family Based Treatment has been proven to be more effective than individual therapy. But, at this stage and at his age, I recognise that he needs to become more independent - indeed it's essential that he does.

Phab is a success

Last night Ben went to his first Phab meeting (the disabled / physically handicapped club where he's helping out as a volunteer) and had a really great time - which is excellent news when our #1 priority over the current 12 months is to get him out there into the community and help him re-learn all those social skills he used to have before the anorexia hit.

Moving forwards still...

Last night I looked at Ben and, for the first time for years, I felt I was looking at the 'old Ben'. And, thankfully, he seems to have come to terms with the slight weight gain and appears to be continuing to eat as normal. He didn't get the Games Workshop paid job, but he's agreed to volunteer as a helper at the Phab club on a Friday night.

If it worked for me, it might work for him...

Back in 1975 when I was in the Lower Sixth Form at school my own mental health took a nose dive, although in those days it went undiagnosed. For two whole terms I hid from the world, unable to interact with my peers. I was rock bottom depressed, suicidal at times, and used to self-harm (not a lot, but a bit).

This is what I used to think in the olden days...

I used to think: Maybe we should watch more news reports about children starving in Africa? Children who would do anything to be able to get food? Or get him involved in Good Deeds like working with the disabled or underprivileged? Maybe that'll make him realise that some people have more to worry about in life than whether or not they might have put on a nano-kilogram and - pow! - their life suddenly isn't worth living.