A ray of hope – squashed

There was an approximate 24 hour period where we thought we had our girl back home and away from drippy dick. It was a ray of hope that faded all to quickly.

On Thursday, 1/2/20, I heard from my girl for the first time since New Years Eve. On New Years Eve she sent me a message letting me know drippy was driving her home so she could shower. She arrived around 9pm, came in the front door, straight up the steps and into the bathroom. No hi, no nothing. When she was finished showering and what not, she came down the steps and went directly out the front door. No goodbye, no nothing. She jumped in drippy’s car and was gone. When I messaged asking what the deal was I simply got a “I’m sorry” as a response.

Anyway, back to Thursday. Thursday was back to work for my husband and I after the holiday. I had been very reluctant to message my girl since I had no idea when drippy would be reading and/or responding to me or what influence he was having over her responding to me. Even though the year is now 2020, I still do not have cell service at work. I have an iphone and can receive texts from other iphone’s, but nothing else. That is why I always relied on Facebook Messenger to communicate with my girl when I am working. Around 1pm I got a message from my girl asking me if I would get her an Uber to get home. She was with drippy. I asked few questions and realized they were having another fight and she needed to get out of the situation. This was our biggest fear in taking her car. She is 45-60 minutes away and has no way to get away if she needs to. I ordered the Uber and was glad it was only 5 minutes away from her. Yes, she now had to give me the address of drippy, at lease I am assuming they were at drippy’s house. I tell her it’s on the way and get a message saying I should cancel it and she would “figure it out on her own”. I replied it was too late the Uber was coming and she needed to come home. The Uber drive sent me a message and said he would be picking her up at a nearby intersection, I relayed the information to my girl via message. She responded she didn’t know where it was and then another message comes in from her that reads “lmfaooooooo”. I was very confused. And then I realized drippy was reading and sending messages on her account. I called her just as the Uber was getting to her. Again, she was crying and distraught. I made sure she was in the car and on the way home and hung up. The next message that came in was “fuck you both”, which was sent by drippy. A few minutes later another message came in saying “I’m done you guys win”. I had no idea who sent that and what is was referring to. I stood by a window to send my girl a text and find out if she sent it and what was going on. She told me he sent it and that they were done. She made it home safely and told me she was going to shower and would see me when I got home from work.

Of course the remainder of the work day seemed to drag by and all I could wonder was if I was going to go home and find her dead or alive.

I got home and she was in her room. I could tell she had been crying. I asked if she wanted to talk and she said she wasn’t ready. That evening she went to visit her oldest brother and his family. She said she needed the distraction. She ate dinner with them and got ice cream. When they brought her home she looked exhausted, sad and just awful. Before she went to bed I asked if she was ready to talk about what was going on. Again she said she needed some time to think. I was okay with that, I knew from past experience if I pushed her to hard she would completely shut down.

Friday was another work day for me and my husband. I checked in with her throughout the day. She told me she was sad and didn’t feel like getting out of bed. Eventually she did get out of bed and showered. I got home from work and checked in on her. I told her we were thinking of going out to a local restaurant for dinner and asked if she wanted to go or we could do something else. She said she wanted to go and would get ready.

I waited downstairs for her and when she came down we made some small talk and then I asked her what was going on. She said she didn’t know what was happening with drippy and that he might come to talk to her later that evening. I took the opening to ask her if she really thought this was a healthy relationship, asked how much they fight and argue, and a boatload of other questions. She was open and I think honest with me. She told me she felt physically ready to leave him but not mentally. I told her I feel she doesn’t want to stay at home because we would make her live in reality and deal with her Borderline Personality Disorder (BDP) and when she is with drippy she can live in a fantasy world where no one makes her be responsible. She didn’t disagree. I asked her what she thought about the message he sent me regarding the Christmas presents. She always becomes defensive of drippy. I was very honest and told her that I don’t think I could ever get past what he has said to me and other members of the family and there was no way I would allow him to be around my granddaughter. I asked her if she was okay with his comment them getting married and having kids and never letting me see the kids because I’m such a terrible person. She didn’t have a response to that. There were many other comments made about therapy and getting a job. I can’t express in words how heartbreaking it was to hear her say she just doesn’t care enough to get the help she needs. She doesn’t want to be here and wishes we (meaning the family) would just hate her because it would make leaving the world easier for her. The hopelessness she expressed was simply heartbreaking. She told me she thinks about not being alive every day. She was in tears, so was I. I ended the conversation telling her we would never not care or not love her and all we wanted was for her to be mentally and physically healthy.

We did end up going out for dinner. I think we both needed the distraction. My middle son and his wife joined us, as did two close family friends. We sat and ate and chatted. At one point my girl said she would like to go home, she was feeling anxious and needed to get away from the noise and commotion. I was okay with that since the place we were at is about three minutes from our house. My husband took her home and then came back to the restaurant. After about 20 minutes I got a message from my girl telling me that drippy was coming to get her. I told her I didn’t understand why she was going to leave with him and she said she needed to talk to him. The cameras alerted us when he picked her up and she left with two bags of clothing.

My girl came home Saturday evening, again to shower. We had friends over that hadn’t seen her in about a year. They were shocked how skinny and pale she looked. As soon as she came in I could tell she was stoned. And she didn’t stick around to chat. She showered, came down and talked for about 5 minutes, took some food and left with drippy.

Any hope we had that we would be able to get her the help she needed is gone, again. She promised me she would call about therapy on Monday, but I have heard that many times. My heart is heavy and my fear is off the charts. It’s just a matter of time before something happens to her. I have nightmares about answering the door and seeing police officers that came to tell me she is dead. I fear she will be at a very low place and do something to herself and drippy will never tell us. She is slipping farther and farther away and I am terrified.

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.

Again…

Ironic, I was typing a blog about an hour ago. The blog was about the dreams I kept having this past weekend, all surrounding my girl child. And I got a phone call from her. She was crying, screaming, wailing, hysterical, gasping for breath. She was saying she can’t do it anymore, everything is fucked up, nothing ever works out, she doesn’t want to be here anymore………..the connection sucked and it was hard to understand her. I have unfortunately dealt with this before and knew I had to keep my voice calm and get her to focus on me and what I was saying. It was taking much longer to get her to focus on my voice and listen to what I was saying. I asked where she was and she said told me at his (drippy dick) brother’s house. I asked if she was alone and she said no, he (drippy dick) was there. I could hear him yelling at her in the background. She told me she would call me right back. I told her to stay on the phone with me and that she needed to come home. She hung up.

I called and called and called her. I sent her messages. I finally get a response via message that she is good, everything is fine. I messaged her to call me, she said she is fine. I demanded she call me. She did. She was in her denial mode. Denying there is a problem with her, because she is fine. Denying she should come home, because she is fine. Everything is fine. She isn’t coming home, she is staying there with him.

I don’t know where she is. I don’t know who she is with. I don’t know if she is safe.

In the dreams I had about her, she kept getting farther and farther away from us. We would find her and she would disappear and each time we searched for her it was harder and harder to find her. I feel her slipping faster and faster into a black hole. I am so fucking scared she will fall so far into that black hole that we won’t be able to save her. She will be lost and gone from our lives forever.

Ironic.

Trying to be thankful

This month has been incredibly difficult. As I sit here with so much hatred, bitterness and anger in my heart, I desperately want to feel thankful for what I have.

It’s 2:30AM. I just finished doing some work for my job, which I haven’t been at since last Wednesday due to family issues. Since I last posted about my mom being in Florida and having to have surgery for a bowel blockage, things took a turn for the worse. She was released from the hospital after the first surgery, however 24 hours later was re-admitted for violent vomiting and stomach pain. After testing it was determined that her intestines were close to rupturing and she had emergency surgery. The surgeon said he felt she had 10-12 feet of dead bowel that needed to be removed. This surgery required her to be cut open from about two inches under her breastbone to below her belly button. I still do not understand what the surgeon did, or in this case didn’t do, but we were told that he was able to “massage” the intestines and all was well (scratch my head). After waking up from surgery my mom’s right foot was numb, completely numb. She was told it was from the epidural used during her surgery and was a normal occurrence. Days later as she is recovering in the hospital, the foot is still numb. There were areas of tingling, but the bottom of her foot was completely numb. This obviously made walking close to impossible. Since I am in PA and my mom, step-dad, sister and brother-in-law were in FL. There wasn’t much I could do for her.

Fast-forward to last Wednesday. I received a call at work from my grandmother’s nursing facility. I was informed that when the aides went to give my grandmother her medications they found her in a very confused state. She had declined significantly from the previous day. It was decided the best course of action would be to move her to the constant care area of the facility. Up until this point she was in her own apartment, but had care from aides, help with daily activities, etc. The original hope when hospice became involved in her care was that she would be able to stay in her apartment as her journey came to an end. However, due to her extreme decline she was moved.

I left work and went to her. I could not believe how much her health had declined since my husband and I visited her last, which was four days prior. It was explained her oxygen saturation had tanked and it was becoming very hard to maintain a healthy oxygen level. Hospice increased the morphine to every two hours around the clock. When I got to her she did know me and was able to understand me and could communicate with me, but she had times where she just wasn’t “present”. Her nurse told me that she was nearing the end and was declining rapidly.

Fortunately, my middle son was able to leave work and sat with me and Mammy (as we all called her). Throughout the day his wife came, my husband came, my daughter came and my oldest and his girlfriend came. While we didn’t feel this day was the end of her journey, we wanted her to know we cared and loved her and were there for her. I was also able to facetime with my mom (who was still in the hospital with the tube down her nose) and sister in FL so they could talk to Mammy and wish her well and unfortunately tell her it was okay to let go. As the evening wore on it seemed she was a bit agitated and we all left so she could rest and the nursing staff could get her ready for bed. I was the last to say goodnight to her. I told her it was okay to let go. We knew she was tired and ready to see PaPa (her late husband). I assured her I would take care of the family and even though we would all miss her, she was loved and would always be with us. Talk about a sucky conversation to have….I was assured I would receive a phone call if her condition changed.

Thursday through Saturday evening are kind of a blur at this point. I spent most of my day with her, typically 9AM to 9PM or later. My kids were fantastic. My middle son has more flexibility at his job and spent most of his day with us. There was another huge decline in Mammy’s condition Thursday and I called the kids just to let them know what was happening. Everyone showed up to again tell Mammy she was loved and just be there for each other. Thursday was also the day my mom was released from the hospital in FL. It was explained to me that she and my step-dad were going to take Friday to rest and then my sister, mom and step-dad would be flying home Saturday. My sister is fortunate enough to be able to fly privately, which was the best possible option for my mom at this point as she was still extremely uncomfortable from the second surgery and numb foot issue.

Friday was another day of sitting with Mammy, holding her hand, talking to her, but she was becoming more and more unresponsive. There are other “things” that go along with someone nearing the end of their journey. Physical things that happen to the body or in the body. It just sucked for her. I asked many times if she was in pain and she always said no. There were times of agitation, terminal restlessness in her body causing movement and twitching. The times she did open her eyes she tried to focus on us, but it was so hard for her. And then there were times she would open her eyes, but sort of look right through you. She was having conversations with people we couldn’t see and her hands and arms would move that made us wonder where she was and what she was thinking about. I wanted to stay with her Friday night, but something just told me it was okay to go home.

Saturday was a whirlwind. The Florida group arrived back in PA. However, due to my mom’s condition there was no way possible for her to make it into the nursing facility. My sister showed up as soon as she could and at one point everyone but my oldest was there. My sister brought a bottle of champagne along and at one point in the evening we said a toast to Mammy and did “cheers-ed” over her bed. At that point she opened her eyes and looked at us all. It was amazing and beautiful. When we left Saturday night we all knew something was different in Mammy. She was resting so comfortably. The restlessness stopped, the arm movements stopped and she just seemed to be at peace. I felt my grandmother waited for my sister to say her goodbye and I was right. I received a phone call at 2:52AM Sunday morning that my grandmother had passed. Her physical journey was over and a new journey beginning.

Now, along with everything that goes along with loosing a loved one – we had to deal with cleaning out her apartment. All the furniture, personal items, clothing, etc. Again, I am so glad my sister was around to help. We work well together and were able to make decisions and turned the apartment keys back into the facility Wednesday afternoon (like 15 hours ago). We met with the funeral home and planned the service, which will be Friday.

Here is the “kicker”. Tuesday evening, I got a call from my step-dad telling me my mom had to go to the hospital. She was starting to vomit, again. Not good. Her physical condition is so weak at this point I called an ambulance to transport her. She is now in our local hospital, tube has been put back in and she has another bowel blockage. I feel like I am living in a nightmare. I can’t imagine how she is feeling. At this point the doctors/surgeons are giving her body some time. It’s a wait and see if she will need a third surgery. However, she will not be able to attend her mother’s services. It’s just so insane. The emotions are overwhelming.

Oh, and another bit of information. The girl child. She told me when she started her wonderful job at the shipping place that she was required to work on Thanksgiving and since we had no idea when my mom would be returning to PA or how my grandmother would be, I decided I was not going to be making Thanksgiving. We made reservations weeks ago at a restaurant we love and I promised everyone that next year we will be back to all normal traditions. Anyway, I get a message from girl child today, sorry, yesterday. I keep forgetting a new day started. I get a message Wednesday telling me she would be home in the evening. I asked why because I thought she had to work on Thanksgiving. She replied she was fired. I replied with a “?” and she replied she had taken too much time off between the cyst issue and coming home twice to see her grandmother and now having the service……I just responded OK. I wanted to respond I told you so. All the books and reading about her disorder indicates very clearly that holding down a job is impossible without proper help/therapy. So she came home, she played with her niece, ate dinner with us, actually seemed to be in a fairly decent mood. I asked her to figure out what she was wearing to go out for Thanksgiving since she was now going to be home. She then told me she didn’t know how long she would be with us because drippy dick’s mom apparently texted her and invited her to have Thanksgiving with them. She also chatted with drippy dick and was told his family thing started at 3PM. She ASKED him if it would be okay for her to get there at 3:30PM and he said no. I told her it would be nice if she could spend a few hours with her family, especially under the circumstances and the conversation ended. We all went to bed. Guess who left the house and went back to drippy dick? No goodbye, no nothing.

I am fucking furious, pissed, hurt and just so tired of this. I guess that’s why I am up and blogging at 4AM on Thanksgiving. What’s next? Will he not allow her to attend her great-grandmother’s funeral? What about Christmas? I mentally can’t do this anymore. I need to find someone to help us understand the boundaries we need to set and how to do that the right way. I need someone who understands this disorder to stand behind me and push me to push her. Does that make sense?

Monday morning and I’m still confused…

(SIGH) – It was a long weekend. I can’t believe I am saying that. Typically, the weekends fly by at lightning speed. As a bit of an update, my mom ended up back in the hospital in FL having emergency surgery, I believe that was Tuesday. When she was admitted for this time her intestines were close to bursting and she had to be cut open the old fashioned way. Laparoscopic surgery wasn’t an option. Scary shit. She still has the NG tube, which is still pumping out grossness. The epidural that was placed for surgery caused her right foot to become completely numb, making any type of walking an extreme hazard. No clue when she will be released from the hospital and then how long it will take her to feel strong enough for a flight to PA.

Visited my grandmother on Friday. She is hanging in there. I honestly can’t say enough about hospice and the care they provide. She is, of course, worried about my mom (her daughter). I have this awful feeling of guilt after visiting with her. She kept asking what the family is doing for Thanksgiving. I am the one who has been having the holidays at my house. I would be the one to have Thanksgiving. At this point I highly doubt my mom and step-dad will be home. My sister and brother-in-law are in FL for the winter. I still haven’t talked to my kids about what is happening with their in-laws. Oh, girl child did tell me a few weeks ago she has to work on Thanksgiving. My grandmother now gets morphine every 4 hours around the clock, is on oxygen (at a very high rate) 24/7, has to use a wheelchair to travel further than 4-5 feet or she is so out of breath it takes a very long time for her to recover. She feels I would be able to handle all of that and her wheelchair will fit through my standard household doors (head drops into my hands). I think she feels it will be the last time out of the nursing home. I get that, BUT………………..

Received a message from girl child early Friday asking what we were doing for dinner and would we be around Friday night. I replied I wasn’t sure yet, but we always get food. Friday is typically our eat out day. She said she would be home to eat and sleep and asked if I would help her dye her hair. I was looking forward to seeing her and pretending for just a little that things were “normal.” Sent her a message around 4:30PM asking when she would be home and got the response, “NVM, I’m sorry.” Followed by a message letting me know she might be home around 7PM to shower and I could save her food….my response to her was “will you ever be allowed to be here”. Her answer “I’ll be home for the night like 5:30 6ish for the night, probably.” I have been on the receiving side of many messages ending with “probably” from my girl. That means whatever she is talking about isn’t going to happen. So, we ordered from a local Italian shop. We had a few sandwiches and pizza. She walks in and asks what I got for her. Told her nothing since I had no idea if she was actually going to be home, but we ordered more than enough. Of course the attitude came out. No, no she wasn’t going to eat our food. OMFG. Whatever. She takes a shower, comes back downstairs and does eat our food. She starts doing some wash while we are just hanging out watching TV. I was honestly beat from the day and headed to bed to read. I fell asleep reading. Wake up the next morning and check the cameras. I love to see the cats that set the camera off every night. I was shocked to see my girl leaving the house around 9:30 PM. WOW. It just cut me to my core. Sent her a message saying I don’t think I will ever understand what is happening with her. No response.

I feel horrible for saying this, but at this point I wish she would just stay away or officially move out. Not this back and forth bullshit. It just tears me apart every time. I get to a point where I think I’m handling shit and then BOOM – she’s back and I’m hopeful. I think she is completely controlled by drippy dick. I think it is now a game. He wants us to tell her she has to go. He wants us to be the bad guys. He wants to be her savior. I’m closer to letting her go than I was a few months ago, but I’m just not there yet.

On a side note. The cat that she had to have a few years ago and we allowed her to have, pissed on my sofa. The cat isn’t getting the attention she deserves and she is not happy. This cat was her emotional support animal. She was attached to this cat in a way I can’t explain. When she left I told her she needs to make arrangements for the cat or take her. I have more than enough to take care of. I was told she was trying to find someone to take her. So, I found someone to take her. A very good home, someone I know would love and take care of her the way she deserves. Well holy hell, you would have thought I took the cat outback and shot it. I got such a guilt trip about how I’m not giving my girl time to get her stuff together, that cat means the world to her, if it wasn’t for the cat she would be dead, that cat is like a child to her. Well then, girl child, you abandoned your child to live with drippy dick and work for a shipping company. The cat is still in my house, but now has to stay in her room. Won’t be long until the room is destroyed. (SIGH)

Oh, I did something yesterday that I can’t believe I did! I have tattoos. Like a decent amount. Most visible tattoos are very small, two small wrist ones, small ankle ones, one on the back of my neck I hate and want to get removed. Anyway, point being I have never gotten anything sizable on an area that is highly visible. I did yesterday. Left inner forearm for my grandbaby. I love it. I am hoping I have the balls to continue as I would love to have a full sleeve on my left arm…….time will tell!

For Fucks Sake

Well, since my last post I wish I could say things have gotten tremendously better. I can’t. I saw my girl once in the last almost two months. And that was to do a meet and greet with drippy dick. She asked a few times if we wanted to meet him. The response I wanted to say was “FUCK NO”. However, I refrained and agreed to meet him last Wednesday. It was absolutely horrid. They walked into the house, my girl first and then him. He had his hood up and couldn’t even say hi to us. Introductions were made. He just plopped himself down on our love-seat and assumed the hood-rat slouch. My girl was chatting nervously, the energy in the room was uncomfortable. She told me a little about her new job at the shipping facility where she works as a picker. She asked if I was proud of her. I told her I was proud of her, but I was also concerned for her. I told her I was concerned she wasn’t getting any type of therapy and I was concerned she was going to get stuck in a job and life that she really didn’t want. She immediately went off the deep end and started accusing me of calling her a failure. Again, I know that is how her brain processed what I said. I kept telling her I never used the word failure, she is the one that said it. Things just continued to get worse from there.

Drippy dick said nothing, but had a cocky grin on his face the entire time. I really can’t even remember the order of conversation or what exactly was said. I know at one point my girl asked if I had any questions for him. I said I didn’t and really didn’t know what to say, but I tried to explain how I felt about the “situation” in general. Anything I said he had a smart-ass comeback for. He tried very hard to sound intelligent and use big words. It didn’t work well for him. It actually got to the point that I couldn’t even look at him anymore. I’m not sure exactly how it came up, but I know I mentioned therapy again and decided to ask drippy dick his thoughts on my girls diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. Low and behold – drippy dick disagrees with the diagnosis. He said he read about the symptoms and doesn’t feel that my girl has that. Drippy dick apparently slept at a Holiday Inn Express the night before and has a degree in psychology. He also doesn’t believe in any type of therapy. After that comment I had to leave the room.

Now, remember the post when I tried to send drippy dick a message about sitting down together and having a conversation? In those messages when he was a complete asshole, he mentioned how my girl was far better off with him both mentally and physically. He lives in a small “city” about 45 minutes away from us. Every day on the news there is at least one shooting reported. It is a horrible area and that is where she is, but he is going to keep her safe and would never let anything happen to her. Remember that.

My girl took a shower before they left (she comes home every other day to shower – when I asked why she drives 45 minutes one way to shower when she is living with him, I was told the hot water heater doesn’t work well at his house and she wants to save the hot water for his mom, him and his brothers). They left around 9PM. Oh, and they were both stoned. Just a little side note.

I was a mess after they left. I did take half a sleeping pill. I needed to just sleep. Around 11:30PM I realize my cell phone is ringing and it’s her. I missed the call, but called her right back. She was in tears. She asked me to drive to her and take her to the hospital. I thought she mean she was having a mental breakdown. As I was trying to focus and figure out what was going on, she told me she was in severe pain. She felt nauseous and couldn’t stand straight. All the pain was in her lower left abdomen. I told her to go to the local hospital. She said she didn’t want to go alone. I asked where drippy dick was and she said he was sleeping. He had to get up in the morning for work. But he was willing to take her to the ER and drop her off. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone. I did not cave. I told her she needed to go to the closest hospital and get help and it would take me at least 45 minutes to an hour to get to her. She said she would talk to drippy. She ended up driving home in severe pain. Suddenly our garage door is going up and she is crying in pain at the bottom of the stairs at 12:45AM. Of course I drive her to our local ER. It was a very slow night, which was good for us. She got immediate attention. Her blood pressure and pulse were high because of the pain she was in. An IV was started and the gave her some liquid Tramadol to help the pain. It didn’t help. Morphine was next. That at least took the edge off, but she was still writhing in pain. An ultrasound was ordered to check her ovaries since she has had ovarian cysts in the past. They took her for the test and ended up giving her fentanyl because she couldn’t lay flat and her body was shaking uncontrollably. That finally helped the pain. They also did a CT scan because the pain was radiating into her back and they wanted to check for kidney stones. The results came in and it was learned that she had several ovarian cysts that burst and the fluid that was released was causing the pain. We were eventually released and got home at 5AM. I called off work to sleep and keep and eye on her.

My girl woke up around 1PM and was feeling better. She left around 3:30PM to head back to drippy dick. The person who takes fabulous care of her, who loves her and would never do anything to hurt her. If that didn’t show her his true colors I don’t know what will.

The next “thing” that makes me think I was a child slave trader in a past life and karma is rewarding me for that; my mom and step-dad drove to Florida last Friday. This is something they do twice a year. My sister and brother-in-law have a local home and a home in Florida. They have been very successful and are very fortunate. My parents tow a trailer with one or two of their “play” cars. They take them to Florida in November and haul them back to Pennsylvania in April. Anyway, my parents left for Florida last Friday and arrived late Saturday. I talked to my mom Sunday and she mentioned she felt very achy and thought she might be getting a cold. Later Sunday eve I talked to her and she said she had a very bad stomach ache. I told her not to mess around and if she felt that bad she should get checked and I reminded her of the bowel blockage she had about 15 years ago. Well, early Monday morning my step-dad took her to the ER and she was admitted with a blockage. She had an NG tube inserted and it was a waiting game to see if the blockage passed. Over the next two days she continued to vomit and the decision was made to operate on Wednesday. The surgeon did not have to remove any intestine and was able to open the pinched intestine. The NG tube stayed in until Thursday evening when she was started on clear liquids. Things didn’t go well and she had to have the tube put back in early Saturday morning. Not only does she feel like shit, but she feels like shit in a different hospital, in a different state. As of just a few hours ago the tube was taken out to see how she tolerates food. Fingers crossed things improve from here and she can fly home by the weekend.

Add to this my grandmother (my mom’s mom) is in a nursing facility and was just placed into hospice care. She is 92, and has congestive heart failure. My mom and I have Power of Attorney for her. Since my mom is not feeling well, I am now on call for the nursing home and hospice. They called today to say her morphine would now be increased to every four hours around the clock and she was coughing up blood so they felt it was best to stop her blood thinner. I can only hope and pray that nothing happens before my mom is able to come home and see her.

I now need my bed.

Some days I amaze myself

Today I am amazed at how fucking stupid I am. I feel like my world has been stuck in a tornado for the last year. Occasionally, I get to experience the eye of the storm and feel a bit of calm; mostly it’s just the wind spinning me in circles.

When I woke up this morning I made a promise to myself to be stronger, put the girl child out of my mind and get some shit accomplished. I made a list. Not a long list, but still a list. There were five items on my list, I have crossed out three. I’m feeling accomplished. And then I amazed myself…

I had this fabulous idea to make a family calendar for Christmas presents. I would put everyone’s birthdays, anniversaries, special family moments, etc on the calendar. Each month would have family pictures of the person(s) who have birthdays that month to remind us of special times we have shared. I typically have to remind my “adult” kids of relatives birthdays, etc. So a calendar would be perfect – right? I decided to start saving pictures for the calendar. I told myself that I would get an early start, feel really great about what I accomplished and try to relieve some of that pre-Christmas stress.

The sadness hit like a fucking train. Pictures. My girl is in the pictures, so many of the pictures. Will I have more pictures to cherish with her or has that come to an end? Will I get to celebrate the holiday’s with her, her birthday, Mother’s Day? And again, I am caught up in the tornado. My emotions are everywhere. I am hurt, sad, angry, confused…….How fucking dumb am I not to realize before I started that my girl would be in the pictures?

I experienced my two sons leaving home and I did okay. Of course I was sad and missed them. But I was also very happy for them. They found the person that makes them happy and are starting their own families. It’s wonderful to sit back and watch them grow and feel proud about what they are accomplishing. I want to experience that with my girl. I want to be happy she left home and is finding her way, but the circumstances are so insanely different. How can I be happy she is living in a shit-hole city with a hood rat? I want to respect and accept her decision; I can’t. I am terrified for her life. I guess I’m just not there yet. Will I ever get there? I don’t know.

People suggest as parents we should go and talk to a professional about the situation. Okay, I totally agree with that. Tell me how to find one? The professionals that deal with BPD are few and far between, that I know for a fact. They don’t provide therapy for only relatives of BPD patients; they provide therapy for families, which would includes the BPD patient. Our BPD patient has refused therapy. I have talked to other therapists/psychologists for recommendations. No one feels comfortable giving me recommendations because BPD is so……………what word can I use….intricate? Each person BPD patient has some similarities, but also has their own way of thinking/dealing. That is why therapy for families is suggested, but the BPD patient is a crucial element in that therapy.

I HATE FEELING THIS WAY.

I am lost

My rock

It has now been a little over two weeks since my girl has been home. She stopped home this weekend, after we were in bed. She took a shower, got more clothing and left. Our security cameras caught her coming and going. I am trying so hard to make each day a normal day. But I can’t. As I am planning my days, whether it is what to make for dinner, a trip to the store or dinner out with friends. My first thought is her. Will she like what I’m planning for dinner, does she need her lactose free milk, would she want to go along to eat or maybe we will bring something home for her. But she isn’t home anymore and I have not been able to wrap my brain around that. My thoughts are consumed with her.

I had some communication with her this weekend. She told me she got a job through an employment agency with a shipping company. She will work four, 10 hour days. She hasn’t worked longer than two weeks at a stretch as a part-time employee. She told me that she is very safe and doing really well. Her anxiety is basically gone and she is dealing with her anger issues. How did I interpret this? “Living at home with you and dad was my problem. I am fine now that I am away from you. I don’t need help with my BPD. I am normal now.” My fear is the time will come and the bubble will burst on her new wonderful life. The chaos that comes with BPD will rear it’s ugly head. I am scared when that starts to happen.

As we move through our daily lives pretending the world is a wonderful place, I would be lost without my rock. He is a man of few words. Where I am an extrovert, he is an introvert. We balance each other fairly well. Through this hell I have sobbed and slobbered on his shoulders, arms and pillow. He stood by my side when I needed a drink or 12 to help me forget. He loves his family fiercely and would stop at nothing to protect us. I would be lost without him. He is my husband, my lover, my very best friend and the love of my life. I would be a wreck without him. I hope that we can soon learn to live without constant fear and worry.

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.

Living in the wake of mental illness

It has now been 6 days since my girl has been home. I have had limited contact with her. Each day I ask if she is come back to town, I don’t use the word home. Each day she tells me she will be back the next day. That hasn’t happened.

I honestly have no idea when I will see her. I basically know nothing about what she is doing or where she is at. I know a general area she is in, but that is it. My mind is filled with horrible scenarios, all ending in her leaving this world. I can’t understand that she doesn’t care enough to see her 1 year old niece, or the cat that we finally agreed to let her get. The cat was like her emotional support animal.

I know that her Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is in control of her mind. I have read and read and read about BPD and it’s manifestations. I am trying to understand. I am trying to wrap my brain around it. It’s hard.

There is another side to loving, caring and living with someone that has a mental illness. All the people that love and care about my daughter get caught in her wake. There are days where the lake is smooth and crystal clear and it’s a joy to be around her. There are days when the lake is a little rough and you are never sure what might trigger her. And then there are the days that are pure hell.

Another piece of the illness, at least in my daughters case, is how she chooses to keep her surroundings. I really can’t believe I am sharing this, but it’s part of it. I am sharing pictures of my daughter’s bedroom and the bathroom my daughter uses. I can only assume that the chaos she chooses to live in is similar to the chaos in her mind. Both my husband and myself have cleaned her room and bathroom numerous times – always with the promise that this time she will keep it clean. The pictures don’t show the shit that is stuffed behind the bed or under the bed. And I never know what I will find shoved in drawers.

Today, I am numb inside and out. I ugly cried for about an hour on Friday. I needed that. The tears come out of the blue. Sometimes it might be a song I sang in the car with my girl or a memory that comes up on Facebook. I’m sad, I’m pissed off, I’m hurt, I’m so fucking angry, I hate the boy, I hate the disorder. Most of all I hate not being able to save my girl.