Panic (Not Mine)

This afternoon I was working with a family where the mom always likes to remind me that her kid has Conduct Disorder (aka--a perjorative term for a kid who has been through a lot in his short life and is externalizing emotions). There is no doubt that he is potentially on the road towards a misery of antisocial behavior and its ramifications...I just don't like that term. Anyways, school's starting, he has terrible sleeping and social habits, and we were trying to figure out a plan to get prepared for school so truancy doesn't become an issue this year.

I start to suggest limiting his time at the computer by a simple equation of he has to do something productive for an hour a day or he loses an hour of computer time (he spends over 10 hours a day on it). The poor kid FLIPED OUT.

He jumped up, stands in his mom's face, yells expletives at her and his body positioned like he might hurt her. I got up, yelled at him to back off, and moved to separate them (which was probably stupid). Before I reached them he had already left the room and went outside, breaking the screen door on his way out.

That part wasn't a big deal. Sure it got my heart pounding and I was thinking, OK so if he hits her, what do I do? But I've had to intervene in situations like that before. Teenagers get really pissed sometimes. I get that.

The saddest part was 15 minutes later...I finished calming things with his mom and wanted to check on the kid (14) and get him to do a UA for me (yes, I have to collect pee for a living).

The poor kid was curled up in the fetus position on the back swing. I asked him what he was thinking and he just loses it. Starts heaving heavy sobs...I let him cry for a moment but started to worry this was something else when he starts gasping for air and saying he feels funny all over.

From that point on, I just treated his behavior like a panic attack. I've never had them, just heard and read about them, so who knows what was effective. I sat next to him on the swing, patted his sweaty back (does that break the personal space boundary for the therapist of a 14 year old boy?) engaged him in some breathing and counting exercises and told him what was going on in his body and why he was probably feeling what he was feeling. He cycled in and out of his sobs and choking for breath several times, but he eventually calmed. Whew.

When it was over, he let out his Beavis and Butthead laugh and kept muttering comments like "This is probably the most akward thing ever for you, isn't it?" "Wow, you've probably never seen anything like that before, huh?" or "I guess I'm just a pissed off little kid" "I don't know where that came from...I'm really sorry" etc. Embarrassment. The stoic 14 year old trying to make a comeback. I assured him that I've seen much worse and was glad it happened in front of me because I now I know what emotions are really running through him. We created a plan for if something like that happens again and I was gone.

I guess I'm writing about this because it was a little shocking. I'm still so green at this job that I haven't seen it all yet. He's a tall lanky kid, wears a lot of black, and has a way of glaring and rolling his eyes that you would not believe. Sometimes I've wanted to pull a Homer Simpson move by ringing his neck and saying "Why you little..."

But then the contrast of tonight. The fetal position and tears. Hearing him talk about the only reason he's living where he's living is because his dad beat the sh** out of him and he didn't want to deal with that anymore. Can you blame him?

So...now I am trying to figure out what our next step is. How do we address his anger, his anxiety, his need for control while not letting him get away with everything?? Teaching his mom to be the comforter instead of me? Thank goodness for supervisors and team members. My work is cut out for me.

Court

Juvenile court is shockingly informal. People come in and out of the courtroom at will and huddles of people are everywhere...in the corners, the doorway, the pews. I'm usually part of those huddles, consulting the adolescent on what is happening, what the judge will be looking for, how the attorney will bargain...the guardian ad litem (the court appointed legal advocate for the youth), the caseworker, and the defense attorney usually do all the speaking. I sit back since the court is their arena for progress and the home is mine. At the very least, I try to say something strengths-based to the family; listening to the "professional team" as they point their fingers at all the changes that haven't been made gets old.

Anyways, the courtroom is loud and chaotic, nervous energy emanates from kids and parents. I understand that energy, I feel it for my clients sometimes. Will they been taken away to detention? Will the judge order work weekends, community service, question the youth's safety in the home? Sometimes you see the defiant teen, more concerned with their style than their charges. Sometimes there's the tired parent, almost hoping the court system will make their lives easier by enforcing a harsh consequence on their child. On some levels I understand where they are coming from and on another, I am a complete stranger.

As people come and go and talk in huddles, a trial or court review is always happening, too. When I first started going, I wanted to listen to all the stories and study the expressions of the kids and parents as they faced the magistrate...now I've accepted the fact that it is too noisy to understand much and it isn't really my business. I don't know if I'd want everyone hearing about what I did and/or why I can't just shape up.

I always get a pang of pity when the kids from detention show up...they wear green jump suits and their wrists and ankles are in shackles. No make up, hair products, fancy shoes, jewelry...none of the embellishments that the rest of the adolescents in the courtroom thrive on. They are led in by a police officer and told to sit on the benches to the side of the magistrate, removed from everyone else. The police officer remains by their side, just in case. Whether they look terrified, resigned, angry...they all look so young. Babies, really. Their immaturity gets me every time; I find myself always wondering how much responsibility they should be forced to take for their crimes. There's something depressing, chilling, and horrifying about seeing a child locked up.

I know I'm the bleeding heart, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. That's why I do what I do, I get to be one that points out what they do well, listen to their goals, look for exceptions. It is flawed, I know. People hide things, history repeats itself, and you can't force change, even though the courts mandate it. My couple hours in juvenile court every now and again make me proud to be the court appointed optimist.