I know….I have abandoned blogging …for a looooonnnggg time. It’s not that things haven’t been happening, they have….so much so, that I haven’t been taking many breaths in between..and I wanted to update, when things looked better," hope was on the way"…er sumthin’….sigh, well this wasn't my "plan"...not much is these days...eh.
But. Well. Uhhh.
Then summer was over, and we are all still reeling.
Then summer was over, and we are all still reeling.
While Papillion has been gone, we have danced; we have yard saled , walked a mile every morning, hula-hooped our fannies off, maintained once a week therapy, bought instruments, gone on day trips every weekend, just to keep feet from touching the ground…that is how HARD we have danced.
Then there was Papillion.
She got caught up in the wind storm, that now it is a raging tornado, she can’t even control, though she *thinks* she can.
My heart aches for the girl, my child, the hope and glimpses at healing we had, that she has completely forgotten, and or lost in the last 12 weeks.
It destroys me, to see where she is at, the belief systems and pathologies she has created to justify and protect herself in her own little world of constant chaotic control. It is so depressing to know what we had built, and as if it was made out of nothing but dandelions watch it blow away….it hurts.
Papillion was released for “good behavior” (i.e. No self harming or suicide attempts) while in the State Hospital, and legally committed.
What people don’t tell you about at these facilities…is there is NOTHING for people to do, bead a little, play bingo, Frisbee, maybe go on walks and occasionally go to “group therapy” and talk about coping and feelings…ummm for my specific child, this is where the fun begins, where she can tell huge stories, and gain lots of attention, sympathy and meet 40 year old boyfriends….what the staff at the State failed to realize, she didn’t STOP self harming, she just chose new means….in the way of older men, oh and some lovely little eating disorders we had put to bed showing right back up.
Did you gag a little….imagine, living 4 weeks of it.
Oh, and then there is the phone “thing”.They can call LONG DISTANCE, whenever, however, WHOMEVER, they please….I guess those phone bills are a whole lot cheaper than actual therapy.
Sweet Nectar.
When Papillion lived in our home, the phone, any. phone. Cell phones, home phone, other peoples phones… caused HUGE entitlement issues…massive, like GINORMOUS! To the tune of costing us over 2 grand in the last year, just in phone issues…did your jaw drop? Yeah, our home phone was discontinued last January…She finally earned a cell phone last spring, two weeks $550, later, phone was revoked….so, when her original out burst in June was over a stolen cell phone, and inappropriate images…I was thinking maybe the Hospitals would “work with us” in helping her keep some boundaries, because you know in the “real” world….you can’t be on the phone all day long , long distance, and there not be consequences…but wait, if you are in a State facility, or Psych ward….why yes, yes you can….and you can call people that hurt you, your supposed Birth Father you have never met ( a level of pain and complete suckiness I have yet to write about), have people send you money..and much, much more….cause you know “she’s an adult now”.
Why would you need parents, or contact with people that know the truth and cramp your style?
Regardless of that hell, and the lack of communication from our daughter or her clinicians “she is an adult and revoked your information release”….so we were never able to be updated on her status, and what was going on with her. Unless she liked us that day and would allow a release of information….pure awesomeness.
Soooo once it was time to be “released “ ….then they wanted to talk with us, since “though, she is an adult, she was far to vulnerable and fragile to be released on the street”, and they wanted us to be part of her release plan….
She now was then coming out of her second hospital, 100 x worse than she ever came in. It was no longer safe to have her in my home, legally…and so while we looked at treatment options for our “adult “, emotionally adolescent daughter, we needed HELP, respite where she could be safe, until the funding and applications for a latent therapeutic adult trauma center could be cemented….dear, DEAR friends, with plenty of experience volunteered, bless them.
48 hours later, and a pair of scissors, she was back in the E.R. My husband left his own counseling group (he runs) and drove the two hours to be with her, and then transfer her with the sheriff and Designated Examination to yet her third Psych ward hospital….
And still we fought, and begged and petitioned and in-between in the privacy in our home, sobbed and cried and felt so. extremely. helpless.
Word came last Friday, we had the funding….WE HAVE THE FUNDING!!!!!!
Sooo, now that we have it, and she has threatened to self harm every day in this new facility…it is a holiday weekend….
But , I pushed and BEGGED, and sweet talked anyway….just to get her out of there…and we have the go…she can come Saturday.
At 6 a.m. I left to pick up my daughter. I had not seen her for 6 weeks, her choice, not mine. 2 ½ hours later, a gaunt, 15 pounds less, shaking 18 year old child is escorted out into the waiting room. I get a “hi”…and that’s it. She is visibly shaking hard, I ask her if she is O.K….and it dawns on me, in 12 weeks, she has only been out side of locked walls, fenced yards for 48 hours, and that did not go well.
At 6 a.m. I left to pick up my daughter. I had not seen her for 6 weeks, her choice, not mine. 2 ½ hours later, a gaunt, 15 pounds less, shaking 18 year old child is escorted out into the waiting room. I get a “hi”…and that’s it. She is visibly shaking hard, I ask her if she is O.K….and it dawns on me, in 12 weeks, she has only been out side of locked walls, fenced yards for 48 hours, and that did not go well.
They hand me a list of prescriptions, and say, I have to pick them up, before I travel the 4 hours to her new treatment center. Sweet.
I call hubbie for him to google a Walgreens . Once we get there…it’s going to take at least an hour….OH, MY, HOLY….
Deep breath, what the Sam hell am I supposed to do with a beyond triggered kid, that I have 4 hours to drive with and now an hour wait?....hmmmmmmm….
Buy 3 colors of nail polish and do mani’s and pedi’s in the parking lot?
Sure.
Pull out her favorite CD of High School Musical Songs and Hoop while truckers drive by and honk?
You bet.....and they. have.ice.
When they are STILL not finished with the prescription ..... let her burn $60 on cheap birthday presents I let her pick up for her sibs ….UH-HUH…
And then we drove 4 of the longest hours of my life….I was terrified she would trigger.
Scared she would jump out of the car….scared, terrified, stomach turning…and so very hopeful.
Once we got there and went through the intake..she triggered over, and over again. Again the shaking, again, I had to leave for her safety and mine. I walked out , climbed into my car….drove a parking lot over and screamed and bawled and punched the horn and generally looked like I might need to be committed myself….
then I went to Ross bought 6 awesome insulated lunch bags for $3.99 each.
And that’s all I have to say about that.
I'm so glad you got the funding for the new place. How long will she be able to stay? Will they wait until she seems secure? Or is there a time limit?
ReplyDeleteBut you made it. You did it. You did what needed to be done. You stayed present. You did it.
ReplyDeleteLove wins.
Blessings!
Hannah
Love you bunches, sweet friend. So wish I could hug you more often! So wish there was more I could do. Praying you can breathe a little easier now and that the rest of the littles can too.
ReplyDeleteOh, you dear. It was so good of you to share this. One of the worst things in these situations is feeling so alone and misunderstood - good gosh! When the experts are that clueless - or surely seem to be - how can we NOT doubt our own sanity?
ReplyDeleteWhat a strange, out-of-this-world, hour you must have had at that pharmacy.
The whole "18" thing is so surreal. We need to do something. I have issues with my foster son in that regard, too. They pretend that since he is 18, his decisions are sound, his responsibility has kicked in and I shouldn't need to get any information as I can ask him. Great, except he doesn't even have full commend of English, let alone the ability to understand and remember all the nonsense that's dished out - different information from different "workers", contradictory information, even. It is beyond frustrating.
Annie
PS - You are my inspiration. What a great mom you are! Annie
ReplyDeleteBecause really, what more is there TO say.
ReplyDeleteMy oh my oh my dear.......
Don't know if it's possible - sending you some energy and positive thoughts through this note.
Hugs sweetie.
I'm so glad you are blogging again. I've thought about you and your family so often and wondered how things have been going. I'm glad to hear you got the funding - hopefully the new place will be lots better. All of your kids are so lucky to have you for their Mom. I can't imagine anyone dealing with it any better than you. Hang in there xoxo
ReplyDeleteSheree