Here we go loop-dee-loo, one more time. This last weekend my older son stole $76 out of my purse. Now, I usu. don't have cash, but he reimbursed me for a red-light violation and overdraft fees on Friday, and like an idiot I didn't deposit the cash right away. Sometime around Sat. the cash grew wings and flew away. Monday he went out to sell some ciggarettes he bought with his own money (he had $20 left over after paying me back) for bus fare for Tues. Who knows if that's even legal, probably not. Anyway, I thought it was a little odd when he came back with cash AND all the ciggarettes, so I decided it was time to search him. What I found: $44, some in one shoe, the rest in the sock on the other foot; and a folding knife in his diaper. Nice. A few minutes later I went back to the bathroom to check on him, because he said he was constipated, and he had blood all over his hands and the front of his private area. He said he pinched a pimple on his... equipment. His hands were covered in blood, that seemed odd. I had him lie down on the plastic sheet on his bed and inspected him carefully for cuts or something and besides a small hole where he indicated he found a pimple, there seemed nothing else amiss. I decided his life didn't seem imediately at peril so I decided to call the police. My thinking was thus: stealing money from anyone other than me could lead to him getting physically hurt, and I don't want that so I need to encourage him to see this kind of behavior as unnacceptable. After talking with both my boy and me separetly, the officer advised me that gaining more criminal convictions would eventually lead to him being unable to go to college or get a job, though she would be more than happy to arrest him, if that's what I wanted. Since the thrust of my action was to help, rather than hinder, him, I decided to go with plan B, which the officer provided me with. So today he's safely installed at one of the local funny farms where, nurses assure me, he is behaving like a perfect angel and complying with his doctor-ordered self-care requirements. If he's going to be so good for them, but so rotten for me, why can't he just stay there? The stupid Psychiatrist told me that Seroquel is "not a nice pill." Duh, really? Does she think I can't read? In our family session yesterday she shared with me that my son said the Zoloft is helping his depression. What?!? The Seroquel is what made him tell me, "I don't feel like sh*t anymore." And if he thinks any of his medications are helping, why do I have to give it to him to make sure he takes it. I also told her that he plans to cease all medications and mental health care on his birthday in Aug. "What? Didn't you tell them that?" I asked him when everyone looked so shocked. At that point he informed me I shouldn't address him because he would not talke to may and he asked to be taken back upstairs becaue he was done. This is his third committal in 13 months, + a 2-day respite stay. I don't think any of this will do any good until he's ready to engage with his issues. Til then it's just spinning everyone's wheels. You know what's really dumb? I want to be over-reacting. Nothing would please me more than if they told me he's fine and I'm the controling witch he says I am. Well, maybe one thing would please me better. I think it'd be swell, if something would help him "turn it around." Ya know?