me

My girl was released last Monday (2/17). She was happy to be “out” and said it felt like she hadn’t been in the real world for months. Appointments for follow-up care were made through the facility. Today is her first appointment with a facility that provides the DBT treatment recommended for BPD. She will have two weeks of one-on-one therapy/counseling to assess if she is serious about therapy and learning new skills. If it is deemed she is not serious, we are back to square one. If she decides she doesn’t want to be in treatment, she is back to square one. At this point I have no clue if she will go to this first appointment or not. If she doesn’t, I don’t know what is next.

Her first night home she came to me later in the evening and asked if she could go to a friends house for the night that lives in our town. She doesn’t have to ask my permission, she is 19 years old. I asked all the questions, who, why, where, etc. She told me she was worried about being alone all day the following day and having nothing to keep her mind busy. So, she left for the night.

What pissed me off the most was the following day, she never bothers to contact me until late in the afternoon. But, I get over it (again). She was home Tuesday by early evening. Wednesday, she left for a friend that lives in the same town that drippy lives in. Now, supposedly this friend despises drippy and is very against my girl being involved with him. I tell her all my concerns and apprehensions. But she goes. She returns home Friday early afternoon. I had limited contact with her Wednesday – Friday, but did ask about drippy and if she was going to be seeing him. I was told she did not yet know what she was going to do, but if she did decide to see him her friend would be there so she was safe (picture me modding my head with a very disgusted look on my face). At some point Friday I asked her if she saw/talked to drippy. She said she talked to him on the phone. Later that evening I notice a mark on my girls neck. How I remained calm I do not know. It was a hickey. I called her out on it, to which she replied she only saw him for a few minutes…………at that point I could actually feel the tiny amount of hope I was holding onto seep from my body. I was a pile of sludge on the floor, no bones, no feelings – just sludge. I sent my girl a text late Friday night when I was tossing and turning. I just realized I deleted it, but basically said something like – He is claiming you by marking you with a hickey. He is showing us he is back in control. Dad and I don’t want to control you, we want to help you on your path to recovery.” I got no response.

This is now the me part. This may contain little bits of information about my past and my emotional hang-ups.

I haven’t slept an entire night for a long time. Since seeing the hickey on Friday, I feel more defeated than I have in a very long time. I tend to be a natural born caregiver. Growing up (and no I’m not complaining, just stating facts) I had to be the adult at times. At times I take on more than I should, but I want to be able to do it all for the people I love and care about. But, I also wish during times like these that the people around me understood how incredibly hard and draining this situation with my girl is. There are nights where I want to go to bed at 6PM and honestly I need to. I’m not good at raising my white flag and admitting I feel defeated. Right now I feel so completely selfish and I HATE THAT. I hate that I feel like I am sabotaging my health and other personal relationships to keep my girl safe. I don’t want to resent my girl and her mental health issues. I guess I wish more of the people around me understood that. I wish they could see me silently screaming from the inside. But I try to smile and keep up a fake front, so it’s really my flaw and issue to deal with.

I have a bay window in my dining room FILLED with glass balls, all different sizes, shapes and colors. I love that window. It makes me happy. I keep having a dream where all the balls start falling and breaking. It starts slowly and as I am running to the window to try and save them, they start falling faster and faster. I have no control or power to stop them from falling and breaking and I can never replace them. Of course I know what this means, I’m not a complete idiot.

As a society, there is so much information shoved down our throats about practicing self-care, putting yourself first. But is that really possible? To truly and honestly take care of myself, right now, the first thing I would need to do is quit my job. Why? Because five days a week, for nine hours a day I am surrounded by what my life is like at home with my girl. I may or may not have mentioned at one point that I work in a police department office. I’m currently in my 31st year. My hours at work are filled with reminders. The domestic calls. The little spats that after a few months turn into violent assaults. The mental health calls, people threatening suicide, attempting suicide, committing suicide. Every day it surrounds me – at home, and at work – all the time “it” is in my face and in my head. It’s too much and it’s overwhelming. What happens when I quit my job of 31 years and the salary and benefits that come with it stop? I create another stress. Money isn’t everything, but living in this world isn’t free. I need the health benefits. I don’t have a huge pension waiting for me when I can’t continue to work. I need to work or find a way to become independently wealthy. I don’t take tropical vacations, hell I don’t take vacations period. The leave time I have benefits not only me, but my family as well. I am permitted to use my time for family related issues. My girl currently being a family related issue that takes up quite a bit of my leave time. And of course the health benefits that help pay for all the various treatments, doctor appointments, and medications for my girl are invaluable at this time. So, what do I do?

I have not participated in any physical activity that is for my health in over a year. That is all on me and it makes me so fucking mad at myself. In December of 2011, I had gastric bypass surgery. At the time I was just a bit over the 300 pound mark. It was something that I did for me and it was a decision I have not regretted. It was hard, but I did it. At my lowest I was down to almost 140. But that was just not maintainable and I honestly did not like the way I looked. Yes, I could fit into a size I never was in before, but there is more to me than a size – right? I felt very comfortable with myself and my body around 170. I have exceeded that weight over the last 8 months.

One thing I found out about myself going through the gastric bypass journey, food is a comfort to me. It started as a kid. I’m not blaming anyone, that is just the way it was growing up. All emotions and feelings are wrapped around food, happiness, sadness, loss, pain – eat and it will be OK. I also grew up with a sister who always thin and beautiful. That is not her fault and I’m in no way blaming her for my issues, but my family had a way to constantly compare me to her – as far as our physical shape. Anyway, food has again become a comfort. I eat when I’m not hungry. I eat things I know I shouldn’t. I am the only one who can control what goes into my body and I’m failing myself.

As I fail myself in controlling my weight, I find myself revisiting the old feelings of body image issues. I already talked about one of my issues, that of constantly comparing myself to my sister. However, I know it goes deeper than that. Here is one of my dark little secrets.

I know it was a Saturday night in 1984, I was 14. I know it was a Saturday night because I was up late watching Saturday Night Live. If I close my eyes I can picture the living room. I can describe in detail where the sofa, TV, chairs, and plants were. I can see the pattern of the sofa and the color of the carpet. Anyway, a family friend stopped at the house. I was the only one awake, my mom was upstairs asleep and my sister was probably out with friends. I’m not sure exactly how the person became a family friend, but he was around quite a bit. He was 21 or 22 at the time. That would be 7 or 8 years older than me. I assume the door to the house was unlocked because my sister wasn’t home yet. At the time I don’t remember it seeming odd that he stopped by the house that late. Now, I find it very odd. This was someone I always felt very comfortable with. Never got a creepy vibe. Probably considered him like an older brother or uncle type person. I knew at that time that he had a thing for my sister, but she was in no way interested in him. Back to the story. I was laying down on the sofa watching SNL. He came in and sat down on the sofa, closest to my head (I was laying on my stomach). For a little while we just watched TV. At some point his arm/hand end up on my back area. And then he decided to show me his penis and what a penis does. While he is jerking off right in front of my face, his hand works down my back to my ass and under my PJ’s and he starts touching me in places he should never have touched. When he was “finished” he left. Why didn’t I jump up and scream, why did I let it happen, why didn’t I tell my mom? I was scared, I was confused, I was hurt.

Guess what the one thing my 14 year old brain took from that incident? I didn’t need to be skinny or beautiful to get attention. I found out I had other “things” that boys wanted and it didn’t matter if my “things” were covered in a layer or two of fat. This made the 14 year old feel wanted, needed and comforted. Fortunately, my soul mate came into my life a few years later and showed me he could love me for me and not my “things”. There are times I still struggle with body image. I think I felt more comfortable being naked at 300 pounds with my husband than I do now. But he knows that and loves me anyway.

I feel like I am now totally off topic! Sorry about that. I think the purpose of this post is just to give whoever is reading this a little background on me and how all that happens in our lives effects us forever and shapes us mentally, emotionally and physically. So while I face my everyday stresses and struggles, I tend to revert back to old practices of comfort. I am trying change. I will continue to try for all the people I love and care about. I need to be the best me I can be. I owe myself that.

control

Monday morning I got a call from my girl. She was in crisis mode. She didn’t want to live. She couldn’t take the mental pain of the last few days and she knew she needed help or she wouldn’t make it.

We took her to the same facility where she checked herself into almost a year ago. She went through the assessment and was deemed worthy of being a patient.

My girl called me a few times on Monday, but she also called drippy. Drippy told her he was at the courthouse for the charges filed against him and told her a few lies about the charges and what would be happening. He also blamed her for him having to now hire an attorney to help him fight the charges. I was not happy that she called him. The person who physically abused her and choked her. She asked me about the things he said and I cleared up what I could. I am familiar with the criminal justice system and most of what he told her were lies.

I didn’t hear from her at all on Tuesday during the day. This was very odd to me. Previously, she called me four or five times a day. By 7PM Tuesday evening I called the facility and spoke to her. She said she was busy all day and the phones were tied up, but she was doing alright. Not great, but alright. I accepted that. I was glad she was doing well enough and didn’t feel the need to call me as much.

This morning (Wednesday), I received a call from the social worker assigned to my girl. She happened to be the same one that my girl had the last time. She wanted to touch base about my concerns or questions about my girl. I obviously told her my biggest concern was drippy and the abuse situation. The social worker was aware of the situation, but my girl wasn’t willing to give her a lot of information and shut down when the topic was mentioned. The social worker told me that my girl would possibly be released on Friday and that we had to have plans in place for follow-up care and therapy. I told the social worker about the places I had researched, and unfortunately in this insurance/money based health care world, she is pushing a treatment facility that is affiliated with the short term care facility. It is not a good place, but there might not be other options.

Tonight was a visitation night. Myself, my husband, my son and daughter-in-law went to visit. Only two people are allowed to visit at one time so my son and daughter-in-law went in first and then my husband and I. When my son and daughter-in-law came out they said she seemed good. I was hopeful. When she saw me, she jumped in my arms and hugged me, really hugged me. Of course she did the same to her dad. We sat down to chat. I asked about her finger, told her she didn’t look quite as tired. She told us about a medication she was put on and how that was making her feel. We talked about the options of therapy when she is released. I asked the general question of how everything else is going and she immediately told us that she had to go to court for drippy. That she was going to be subpoenaed to testify on his behalf. I asked how she found that out and of course it’s because she is calling him from the facility. She is also apparently calling his mom, and his mom is telling my girl how drippy is going to get therapy and things will be perfect. I expressed, very calmly I might add, that I didn’t feel that it was a good plan to continue the contact with him while she is trying to mentally and physically heal. She then told me that someone that works at the facility also has BPD and my girl has talked to her about the drippy situation. According to my girl, this person said there is no reason that drippy can’t be in my girls life and they can continue their relationship……………..WTF? What am I not getting? Is my girl hearing what she wants to hear or is this actually being said. She was now going into shut down. She acknowledged that she doesn’t know what she should do and maybe she should just stay in “this fucking place forever.” That tells me she is no where close to being ready to be released for her own good. I asked her thoughts about going to a place out of state. Nope, she is not going out of state. However, after the abuse incident she wanted to get away. But he again has his fingers in her brain and is manipulating her once again. Is she allowing it? Yes, she is. Does she realize it? I don’t honestly know. He has her so brainwashed that I don’t know if it’s the disorder causing it or he is truly that talented at manipulation. It was time for visiting to end. She was upset and crying when we left and she promised me she would call me. No call as of yet. That was almost two hours ago.

I called her social worker and left a message about our visitation and all my concerns. I’m sure it sounds like a rambling bunch of nonsense, but that’s where I’m at. My ability to process much more is limited at best.

In my heart – at this time – I truly feel she will go back to him and either he will take her life or she will take her own life.

I will fight with all that I have to save my girl, my beautiful baby girl.

Shattered

I feel like I have been sitting here staring at the computer screen for hours. Trying to find the words to describe what I am feeling. I am at a loss. One of my worst fears has come true.

It all started Thursday afternoon. I was at work, actually in the middle of a webinar with my boss. The phone rang and it was my girl. I was immediately on high alert because I didn’t recognize the number showing on caller ID. She was crying and obviously upset. She asked if I could meet her at home in about an hour. Of course I said yes and I asked about the number she was calling from. She said she didn’t have her phone, but she would be home in an hour. She hung up.

I left work and headed home. My mind was racing. Now what? I got home and sent her a message on Facebook, not knowing if she had access to her messenger or not. I asked her if she was hurt. She sent a text message back saying “mentally”. A few minutes later she sent a text saying “physically”. I asked “did he lay his hands on you?” Her response “Not necessarily. I fell down the stops. My finger hurts. Might be jammed or something. I tripped over a bunch of crap trying to leave his room and fell over everything possible and fell into the wall and hit my eye.” Yes, I’m sure anyone reading had the same reaction as me – BULLSHIT.

My middle son happened to be home from work and came to the house to be there with me when she got home. My husband was not able to get to the house in time. I had no idea who was bringing her home. I assumed it would not be drippy dick since obviously they had some type of fight. I’ll be damned if it wasn’t him that drove up to the house. She was in the backseat, he was driving. My son went outside to make sure my girl got into the house safely. I saw her getting out of the back, red puffy eyes, crying, grabbing all her stuff. I saw drippy trying to get out of the car and my son holding the door shut so he couldn’t get out. I stepped outside to make sure nothing happened between my son and drippy. We eventually get my girl inside and drippy leaves.

My girl was just completely distraught. Sobbing, gasping for breath, basically a panic attack. When she could, she told us they had a fight, she tripped on stuff in his room, fell into a wall and then fell down the stairs. Her index finger on her left hand was swollen and black and blue. Her right eye was red and you could see the start of a bruising. I probed as gently as possible about the injuries and how they were sustained. She insisted drippy did not touch her. I had contacted a very close friend and someone I work with to talk to my girl. This person is familiar with domestic violence and I felt would give my girl some insight and be able to remain even tempered. My girl was very receptive to all that was said. She said she was at the point where she wanted help for her disorder and would like to go to a place I had found. It is in Boston, is only for women and is a two week in-patient treatment center for Borderline Personality Disorder. It helps patients regain control and gets them ready for the actual DBT treatment when they leave.

While we were talking, I noticed two police cruisers in front of our house. This was odd. They came to the door and asked to talk to my girl. She freaked. They said they were asked by another police department to stop by and make sure my girl was okay and get her contact information so an officer could call and talk to her. Come to find out that while drippy was driving my girl home, he pulled into a fast food place and told her to get out of his car. She did. She went inside with her stuff, sat down and asked the manager if she could charge her phone (he gave her the phone at some point) so she could call for a ride. The manager could obviously see she was upset and told her that was fine. Drippy comes into the place screaming and yelling at her, telling her to get in the car because he will take her home. The manager tells him to leave. I can only imagine how much of an ass drippy was. While drippy is outside the place he yells that he is going to come back later and shoot the place up. I am fairly certain there was more than just that said by drippy, but I don’t need to know. In order to diffuse the situation, my girl leaves the fast food place and gets back in the car. Drippy does bring her home. But now she is just over the edge. The sight of the officers threw her into a true panic attack. It took some time, but she eventually calmed down. I don’t think her body had the strength to continue.

My girl took a shower, and we got a small bit of food in her. This was in the midst of sobbing. I took her to get her finger checked. It was fractured and needed to be splinted. At some point we all went to bed, not that anyone really slept.

I stayed home Friday to be with my girl. We called the place in Boston to start the process, only to find out there is an 8 week waiting list. This sends her into a tailspin. She had her mind made up she wanted to go and she wanted to go now. I eventually get her to agree to see a general therapist for the time being and hope she will get in before 8 weeks.

We continued talking throughout the morning. Again, I can only push so hard and far or she will shut down. At one point she said “I might as well tell you what really happened. He did touch me.” I almost threw up. She said they had been fighting and she needed to leave. She was shoving stuff into her bag and was kneeling on the floor. He walked by her and basically hip-checked her, knocking her down. This infuriated her more and she continued to yell at him. At one point he pushed her into a wall, causing the black eye. He then sat on her chest (she is tiny), making it difficult for her to breath and then choked her until she was close to blacking out and kicked her while she was down on the floor. When she got him off of her, she grabbed her stuff and ran down the stairs. She said she did fall down the steps because she was going so fast. She got outside, had her bags, but not her phone. He wouldn’t give her the phone. So she approached some random stranger and asked to use his phone, which he allowed. This is the phone call I received at work. Why drippy ended up driving her home I don’t understand. I do know through talking to my girl, he was controlling every aspect of her life, he was manipulative and used her disorder against her.

Drippy started contacting her Friday. He told her he was being charged for the incident at the fast food place and it was all her fault. I checked court records and found he was charged with Terroristic Threats, a felony and a misdemeanor Disorderly Conduct charge. Oh, I almost forgot. My girl also told me drippy had a gun. That scares me more than I can tell you. As of this post, drippy has still not been picked up on the charges.

After finding out the information about drippy assaulting my girl, I started the conversation of filing charges and obtaining a Protection from Abuse order. She agreed. I got her in the car and headed to pick my husband up at work to go with us. While we were driving she answered a call from drippy. She kept saying what he did wasn’t right. You don’t choke someone you love. That he should turn himself in and face what he has coming. By the end of their conversation she had shut down. She said she couldn’t handle pressing charges or applying for the PFA and she just wanted to go home. So we turned around and came home. We are still trying to get her to reconsider.

My girl is still very confused and lost. But she is home. I will take that for the time being.

Struggling

Some days I can find a spot in my brain to tuck away all the emotional bullshit. Today is not that day.

Last night I had a dream that my girl was dead. I don’t know how she died, where she died or any other specifics. I just knew she was gone forever. I was in a car with my mom, an aunt and my grandmother who passed recently. They were all bad mouthing my girl and saying horrible things. I was so upset and I couldn’t get them to listen to me or hear me when I tried to explain that she was a beautiful and wonderful person who was afflicted with a horrible mental illness.

I am exhausted today. Drained and depleted of any and all positive or happy emotions.

Tough Love Sucks

December 30th was our worst tough love day. We have been struggling with when we needed to make some changes regarding the relationship with our girl and setting boundaries. There was a letter written to send to her. It would be impossible to talk to her in person because of her quick fire responses. It touched on the car and the fact it needed to be returned to us, unless she was able to put it in her name and pay insurance. She needs to find a home for, or take her cat. She needs to respect our home and clean the trash out of her room and the bathroom. And the last thing, our home would not be used as her dumping point. She needed to decide where she was going to be living. The letter reassured her that we love her, want and need her in our lives and when she is ready to get help we will be behind her.

The letter never was sent. We were going to send it the week after Thanksgiving. The day we were going to send it she had a huge breakdown. It wasn’t a good day for her or us. Later that week she had another huge fight with drippy dick and called in crisis mode. We decided to wait until after Christmas, probably because we were terrified what would happen after we gave it to her.

Christmas was……………awkward. Her being in the house is awkward at this point. I don’t know what to talk to her about. What do I ask her? I don’t know what her day to day life consists of. I don’t know where she is or what she does. Christmas Eve she was with us and hung out us th some special friends. Christmas morning she woke up early and left to spend time with drippy dick and his family before our family came to our house. I was actually surprised she came home in time and was in a good mood. The day wasn’t awful, but we (my husband and I) could sense the un-comfortableness that happened at times.

The day after Christmas, towards evening, we could tell she was getting ready to leave. As we were talking she said “we will be back tomorrow.” I asked what she meant. She told me that he (drippy dick) had presents for us. I’m fairly certain my head spun in circles and my response was to say “no, that’s not happening.” She got defensive and nasty saying he did it because he isn’t a dick and left the house saying she would tell him to return everything. As she was driving she was messaging me via Facebook Messenger. More about drippy and the presents. I tried to explain I didn’t understand the present thing. She kept insisting that he was trying to be nice and fix things. I responded that it’s a conversation we need to have in person. Within probably five minutes after the messenger exchange with my girl, I get a Facebook message from drippy dick. This is what I received…

“At this point I couldn’t give 2 hoots that you don’t like me, and you have all this resentment towards me. You have expressed nothing but dislike and hatred towards me when all I’ve sought from you was expectance. I’m no angel I’m fully aware of that, but I am trying to mend a broken relationship between you both and myself especially heather and I. I purchased you gifts even though you both didn’t deserve it and I didn’t have to. Why because that’s the type of person I really am I don’t seek conflict I don’t want to have issues with the smith family. I wanted to show you that I want to take a step closer to you not apart, by looking for things you would like spending not only my money but precious time. I know you have a fondness for Star Wars and hot wheels Mr. Smith. I know you like The Wizard Of Oz and Woppers candy Mrs. Smith so I purchased you both something. I didn’t just spend time and money though I swallowed my pride and humbled myself to bring a ray of light into what we have going on as best as possible and it was denied? How can we ever learn to atleast agree to disagree when your acting like a child? Your daughter isn’t going anywhere, one day she will be my wife and bare my children. Your actions will be greatly considered when you are asking to see YOUR GRANDCHILD. I will NOT have a child around such nonsense barbaric negativity it’s a shame and pathetic! Merry Christmas to you both and a happy new year if you will even accept my verbal salutation of peace…”

Yes, drippy thinks of himself as quite the eloquent gentleman. For some reason this just cut through me. It really hit me hard. Not what he thinks of me, but what is my girl doing with someone like this. How doesn’t she see the pathetic person he is? I did not respond to his message. I wanted to, but he isn’t worth it.

I received texts from her shortly after getting the message from drippy asking me what it would take for her and I to get back to where we once were, should she leave him, etc. My responses were that I can’t make that decision for her, we love her and she has to decide what she wants out of life, etc. Now, remember, she started contacting me in messenger and then switched to texting me. Drippy messaged me probably 15 minutes into her drive. No one will convince me drippy doesn’t have access to her facebook and can see every message between us. However, he doesn’t yet have access to her text messages. She doesn’t want him to see her asking me about leaving him and wanting to repair our relationship.

Fast-forward to December 30th. My husband and I are at the store and I get a message from my girl that she will be home soon. While at the store our cameras alerted to motion in the driveway. I checked what was happening and see our girl is home. Oddly enough she is backed up our driveway. She never backs up the driveway. I immediately tell my husband and my prediction that something is wrong with her car and she parked that way hoping we wouldn’t see it. We got home, and sure enough the driver side front fender had a nice dent in it. As well as the passenger side having two nice scuffs. It looks like someone kicked the car. I would have to assume during one of the fights drippy kicked her car.

We walked in the house and she was in her room. I yelled up the steps and asked what happened to her car. Her response was a very assy “what are you talking about?”. This went back and forth a few times. She claimed she had no idea and why wouldn’t she tell us, etc…. However, she never went out and looked at her car….. Through the conversation she was told the car would be staying parked in our driveway. She walked away mumbling “fucking fantastic”.

The day continued, I had no idea she was going to be home and made arrangements for my middle son and his wife to eat dinner with us. We also had our granddaughter. I had no idea how my girl would be or even if she would come out of her room to eat and see her brother and niece. She did come out of her room and eat with us. After dinner she said she was going to take a shower. Our son and daughter-in-law left, and we were getting our granddaughter ready to take home. I get a message from my girl (yes, she was only upstairs) asking if she is allowed to go. I asked her to come downstairs and talk to us. She came down and I asked her what happened to the car, she still claimed she didn’t know. I told her the car stays here. She starts slamming around the house saying she’ll have drippy come and get her and just being mean in general. She decides she has to get out of the house and tells us she is going for a walk, along with some smart-ass comments about the car. I decide I will take the baby home and my husband stayed at our house as a just in case.

As I’m driving my baby home my middle son texts saying that my girl is messaging and calling them and she wants them to pick her up, etc. Mind you, both our sons live within about 2-3 minutes of our home. I drop baby off at her house and when I get home my son’s car is parked out front. Walk in and she my husband but no one else, and then I hear the yelling from upstairs. I walk up and my girl is wild, scary wild. She has garbage bags and is cleaning up the trash from the bathroom and her bedroom. Her brother is trying to talk to her, but at this point there is no talking to her. I have seen the rage and wildness before, but never to this extent. Her brother has never seen it. My girl was talking about killing herself and doing it right this time. I said if that is where she is at she needs to go to the hospital. She freaked and said if I ever do that to her again I will never see her. She continues in her rage. Making all sorts of comments about having to get out of the house and leaving. I asked her if there is anything in her car she needs and she tells me to fucking burn it all, she doesn’t care, etc. I said okay, then give me the keys. Now she completely exploded in rage. She threw the keys at my face, I ducked and the keys took a chunk of wood out of the door trim. My son pushed me out of the way and got in her face telling her not to touch me. She punched him in the chest and stormed out telling everyone to get the fuck away from her. My husband tried to stop her and she told him to fuck off and get the fuck away from her. She stormed out saying she would find someone to pick her up.

We all stood in the kitchen in amazement and disbelief, but knowing we did what we had to do. My girl came back in about five minutes later, all while talking to drippy on speaker phone, went to her room and came right back down and went back outside. We moved to the family room and she came back in and said she needs things from her car and needs her keys. My husband had taken them to the basement to hide them. When she saw him going to the she told us how pathetic we were by hiding her keys and some other nasty things, again all while drippy is on speaker phone. She got the keys, took stuff out of her car and threw them back in the door and told us to have a nice life. Someone picked her up and that was that.

She did TEXT me later that night.

It just saddens my how her brain works and how her thought process works or doesn’t work. I have to remind myself and others that her brain is messed up. It is not an excuse for her, it’s the truth. She is the only one that can decide she wants the help and then accept the help.

I don’t know when I will see her again or how she is doing. I haven’t gotten many messages from her at this point. I am worried and I am scared.

I don’t even know anymore

It’s one of those days.

I keep replaying the last 10 years of my daughter’s life wondering where I could have done something differently. Why didn’t I realize something seriously was wrong before now? All the what if’s are on a continuous loop in my head.

She came home yesterday around noon time. Our security cameras alerted me to motion in the driveway. I sat at work watching the camera, watching her. I needed to see her face. I needed to make sure she was physically okay. Did she have bruises? Did she have cuts? I obviously couldn’t see all that from the camera. But she was home.

I returned home from work around 4:15. I figured she was in her room wrapped in her blankets sleeping or watching Netflix. I was right. She was asleep. I started dinner, doing the normal daily after work stuff. My son and daughter-in-law stopped over to eat with us (I was trying a new recipe). I went to my girls room to wake her up and see if she was going to eat with us. She did come downstairs. She was pale, looked exhausted and didn’t say much. This was the first time in 6 days that I saw her. She slowly opened up, not talking about the past 6 days, but just the normal banter that happens at dinner. After dinner I stepped out on the porch to get some air and sat down at the patio table. I apparently had dropped my head and was rubbing my eyes/temples when my girl walked out. She asked if I was okay. I was honest and told her no, I wasn’t okay. I seriously can’t even remember everything that was said. It was mostly me talking. Only talking, no yelling, screaming, etc. She told me that within 3 months she would be moving out to move in with the boy and his family. I told her all my honest fears and worries for her. I told her over and over and over again that she would always have a home with us and the door would always be open for her. The conversation was probably 35 or 45 minutes. It was long, it was repetitive, it was emotionally draining. I think it went as well as it could have. I was shocked when she told me she was leaving again that night to go to the boy.

It was a sleepless, restless night. But that is becoming the norm. I stood in the shower this morning and couldn’t remember what to do first. Holding the soap in my hands wondering what to do with it. Every action or motion I make today feels like it drains me just a little bit more. Driving to work I was on autopilot. I think I drove safely. I honestly don’t remember.

I want to be pissed off. I want the anger and rage to take over and push me to the next phase of whatever this is. Is it grief? Is it a sense of loss? What is it that I’m feeling? I want to tell her she owes me thousands of dollars for all the shit I tried for her. All the crystals that help anxiety, the essential oils that help anxiety and depression and the headaches and that help her sleep better, the money on the spiritual healer that she didn’t listen to, the pure sage stuff to cleanse the house and her spirit, the new mattresses and bed linens that had to be replaced because her cat pissed on them (because she doesn’t clean the litter boxes), the new clothes because she lost more weight than she should have and had nothing to wear. I could go on and on. Our savings is lower than ever and I have to pay my school taxes. That’s on me. I was trying to help my girl. All I did was help my girl walk out the door.

Letting her go

I lost. He won.

She isn’t getting therapy, she’s getting a job where he lives and is moving in with his family. He is a basic hood rat. He is a drug dealer. He is a narcissist. He is controlling her. He won’t let her go til she is dead. He will beat her, physically and mentally. He has made me her enemy.

How long until the newness wears off and her disorder takes over? How long until she creates a whirlwind of a mess in her new place? How long until she quits the job because she isn’t ready for it? If she ever comes back home, how much worse will she be? How long until there are more cuts? How long until there are more attempts?

I extended an olive branch to him. He (figuratively) slapped my face and declared the conversation over. I spoke of my girl and what she needs and how we can help her. He spoke of his ego, never of her and her well-being.

So many what if’s, so many fears……………

Deep Sigh…..

Today, I am tired.  The kind of tired that you feel in your bones, in your soul.  It makes my body and mind exhausted.  I woke up this morning wishing it was time to go to bed.  I don’t like feeling that way.  

I realize I haven’t posted about my daughter and her struggles. I thought I had finally found a place to send her for treatment. I was in contact with an admission specialist. I asked all the questions I could think of regarding treatment, doctors, medication, social interactions, etc. We discussed cost, including insurance. I was ready to make the jump, take out a second mortgage to finally get my daughter the treatment. But, there was just this feeling I had. I read the emails from the admission specialist again and again. I reviewed my notes from conversations with the admissions specialist. Was this too good to be true? Or was I just being negative because so many things had fallen apart during this journey.

I can’t explain why I never thought of doing a general Google search of the facility to find if places like this were reviewed. WOW – was I in for a wake up call. Five deaths reported at the facility in five years along with horrible stories from patients that had attended programs at the facility. Now, I totally understand that there are people who will bitch and complain about anything and everything. I took these reviews with a grain of salt. No facility is going to please everyone and was the person writing the review open to treatment or did they fight it? But five deaths in five years???? The deaths really made me nervous. I did more digging, more reading, more digging, more reading…Someone posted a recommendation to search the facility name and the civil law suits against the facility. I did that and found the facility is and has been under investigation surrounding these deaths. It has been fined for not following proper protocol when dealing with suicidal patients. It has been fined for a number of violations. None of the fines can bring those people back. Law suits can’t bring those people back. And I will never know the true circumstances of the deaths. But how do I send my daughter there?

The facility admission specialist kept contacting me about the information she had provided (cost, insurance, etc). I sat down and reviewed the numbers again, with the new information I had from the reviews. I am going to copy the email from the facility, but remove names so I don’t end up in a law suit!

The email reads:

I got the insurance checked in regards to XXX. We are out of network and we would be looking to use the out of network benefits. Since we are out of network this means that we do not have a contract with XXX and we can bill them whatever we decide. Facility name has decided to bill insurance $2,700 a day. Now some insurance companies pay very close to this and those polices we can work with and then there are other insurance companies do not pay any of this, those polices we cannot work with at all. Then there are insurance companies that are right in the middle, where they pay maybe half of the $2,700 a day.

With this being said, your insurance falls right in the middle. The pay but not enough. So we are looking to collect $20,000 upon admission. This $20,000 will over the deductible and out of pocket for out of network and it will also help with the poor reimbursement that we have with this XXXX policy.

Let me know if the $20,000 is feasible and if it is not let me know what is!

After reviewing the numbers, I had questions. After reading the reviews, I had questions. My questions included how long the stay was for, would my daughter be in a hospital enviroment (as I had read in reviews) or actually be in a facility like the ones on the facility website? Here is my first response regarding the length of stay.

The response states: The $20,000 will cover however long insurance authorizes – The length of stay will vary depending on XXX’s individual needs and the authorization from the insurance company.  The authorization process requires review for medical necessity every 3-5 days.  We will do everything we can to advocate on XXX’s behalf and maximize her stay with us. That being said, there are no guarantees on length of stay, however Facility Name will guarantee a minimum length of stay of 14 nights regardless of insurance authorization, and will not request any additional funds for any nights authorized by insurance over the minimum guarantee.

So, I pay $20,000 upfront at admission, plus the facility will get about $1,300 for whatever time is deemed necessary and is authorized. Let’s be honest. We all know that the insurance will approve maybe a week. And that $20,000 gets my daughter 14 days of treatment. Seriously? What can be accomplished in 14 days? There is also a highlighted section on a financial document I was sent indicating after signing the document I agree to keep all financial terms and agreements made between Facility Name and myself completely private and confidential.

So, now what? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. I just know I’m tired.

Graduation Season, a time for reflection my ass…

The world is in the midst of graduation season. Kids graduating from pre-school through college. While this is a time for celebration for many families, it creates a world of hurt for me. If you are reading this and we are friends, please do not take offense to what I am saying. I am beyond happy for you and your kids. I love seeing the graduation posts on social media and I appreciate being included as these milestones are celebrated.

Unfortunately, the posts and celebrations makes my heart hurt for what my girl has never experienced and may never experience. My girl graduated from high school last year. I remember asking her how she felt about it, was she excited, etc. She told me she never thought she would be around to graduate and she’s actually surprised. She felt some sense of accomplishment, but even that feeling was clouded with negatives. She could have done better, she should have done better, she could have cared more, she should have cared more…..

This is another one of those times where I can’t help but think if this is what I am feeling, what is she feeling? We all know that social media is not an accurate representation of real life. But that doesn’t mean that seeing post after post of graduation pictures, stories of success and plans for the future isn’t creating another seed of self doubt in kids that are struggling.

Please don’t misunderstand me, I am in no way saying these events should not be celebrated or shared. I’m just saying it makes me sad for what I wish my daughter experienced or may experience. It makes me sad that it seems like every accomplishment is overshadowed by a laundry list of negatives. Negatives that shout far louder and clearer than any positive thought or feeling.