So, we’ve had to take a step back. Phoebe’s situation at her new home did not work out. Her behaviors and anxiety got the best of her, and we found ourselves back at home. I’ve struggled with how to write this and not blame myself. In the matter of a few weeks, I decided to move her, move myself and she graduated from her post-secondary program. This was ultimately a bad decision. Too many changes, and I should have known better. My philosophy was that it was better to do it all at once and rip that band-aid. Well, that backfired.

I take all the blame on this one. Phoebe became aggressive, and unpredictable when she couldn’t control her environment. I had almost forgotten what that Phoebe was like. Not sleeping, aggressions, blurting and repeating, over eating, etc. She didn’t have many full-blown meltdowns anymore at home, as I ultra structured her world around her. I almost forgot. Almost.

I ended up doing more work than I did when I was at home, and that obviously was not the goal. Her independence was the goal. It just didn’t work. While I am sad, angry and literally so exhausted, I’m also aware of how Phoebe feels. She can’t help that it didn’t work. She can’t help who she is, and how she feels and reacts. (Mostly). I also can’t wrap my head around why I can’t help her more. It’s a vicious circle.

For now, she lives with me but I am actively seeking a better situation for her (and for me). Something that will meet her needs. This is all we want.

Phoebe would like her independence, and so would I.