Month: March 2024

Green light, red light 7

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It has been a whole month now since the mania and delusions started. Arabella is gradually getting better, but these kinds of medications take time to kick in fully.

The endless pacing back and forth has gotten slower but she can’t sit down. When she talks her voice isn’t as loud as if she is yelling. She no longer talks non-stop but she is still constantly interrupting conversations. Having a conversation in the room she is in is next to impossible. If we go in a different room, she might knock on the door.

She has become like that of a young girl, around 6 or 7. She has given up smoking. I’m not sure if it is because she now thinks she is too young or even if it will stick after all this is over. If it ever ends.

The voices in her head are quieting. I didn’t know she heard voices. She told us she thought everyone heard voices. Sometimes the voices told her to do awful things like cut or kill herself. Sometimes the voices she hears are like my voice. It can almost make sense to me why she thought I was tormenting her.

It’s exhausting. At times the suffering and grief is unbearable. Sometimes I think this is going to kill me. Sometimes I don’t even care if it does.

I am envious of people who in times like these can lean on their faith to bring them peace, comfort, and hope. As a seeker, I never can seem to find what I’m chasing after.

Why has this been what is chosen for me, my daughter, my family.

Green light, red light 6

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Several times during her hospital stay, Arabella put in requests to come back home. On day 10, we picked her up and brought her back home. She was doing better, a lot better than when we took her in. But she was still manic and delusional. Maybe our expectations were too high. Or maybe we picked her up too early.

She didn’t sleep the first night we brought her home. The hospital changed all her medications. Then when she got home, she took her old nightly medications. It was a jumbled up mess so we decided to call her psychiatrist’s office in the morning to figure it all out. The process of figuring everything out took the whole day. By that afternoon, things got progressively worse. Arabella was very manic and kept interrupting us every few minutes to tell us a bunch of nonsense. By late afternoon, Arabella told us she took a couple of gummies and smoked weed. She was stoned out of her mind, and totally freaking out.

My mom stopped by for a random visit right around that time. She wanted to go for a walk, but I was in the middle of a million things. It’s nearly impossible to get all the things done I wanted to get done when I’m constantly interrupted and in crisis mode. That is when we received a call back from the doctor’s office. Paul and I took the call in Paul’s office on speaker phone while both my mom and Arabella came in and talked to us while we were having a serious discussion with the nurse. We were beyond annoyed, frustrated, and stressed.

The nurse said the doctor wanted to discontinue some of the new meds from the hospital while adding back some of the old meds and discontinuing some others. They were going to call the prescriptions into the pharmacy and would be available two hours before the pharmacy closed. She was going to need to start the new medications that evening. I was going to need to figure it all out before she went to bed. I took a bag full of her medications on hand and went through everything while waiting for the pharmacy.

I needed to go through the meds, fold laundry, and make supper before picking up the meds. My mom tried calling several times while I was getting everything together to make supper. I figured she wanted to talk about Arabella since she left while we were on the phone with the doctor’s office. I ignored her call because I was in a real hurry and didn’t want to take the time to explain everything yet again.

Then Paul came into the room while talking on the phone. He asked whoever it was if they were going to be arrested. I knew he wasn’t talking to Arabella since she was in her room. It was my mom. He said that while she was on the way home she hit a guy on a motorcycle with her car. He said that I needed to go pick her up from the scene of the accident. He said my mom was okay. The guy on the motorcycle was alive but injured.

While in a crisis, we got hit with yet another crisis. I abandoned supper to get ready to pick up my mom. Paul said he would pick up the medication before the pharmacy closed. He wanted me to do it originally because it was my strong suit. On the way out the door, I called my best friend Cindy on the phone. She lived a couple blocks from the accident. She told me I should come over to her house and she would drive me because I was way too shook up myself.

Cindy and I picked up my mom from the place where they towed her car and the motorcycle. Good thing Paul picked up the medication because the pharmacy closed before I got home. The pharmacy screwed up the medication. But at least they gave her a prescription for something she was no longer using. The hospital also gave her an injectable medicine the day she left and I got a prescription bottle with a vial of the injection in it.

While all of that was happening, I received a call from Alex’s friend. It was his 21st birthday that evening and they wanted me to come out celebrating with them. It was a sweet gesture that my kid’s friends also think of me as their friend as well. Paul was just meeting with this young man and helping him set goals to get his GED which he just finished. I will always think of my kid’s friends as children even when they are in their 20’s and able to go out to the bars. If anything, I was worried that they would all make it home safely. Especially after the kind of day I was having.

They weren’t the only ones on the road. Dan and Angel were just getting home from a vacation in Japan. The flight back home was a rough one, then they had to drive another 4 hours to get back home. I was anxious all around. My nerves were shot and I didn’t know how much longer I could handle the stress. Bad news doesn’t seem to shock me anymore.

Now I find it shocking when good things happen.

Green light, red light 5

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Another crisis was averted when Arabella rescinded the release order she signed the day after her voluntary commitment. Paul and I decided it was time for us to visit Arabella.

We arrived during adult visiting hours in the evening. Once again we had to lock up all of our belongings including our cell phones and sat in the waiting room with a sad lot of people. Like in an elevator, no one looked long at each other. We all got swept by the metal detector screening us for weapons. Then with a buzz the outside door unlocked and we silently walked down the long hallway into the cafeteria where we waited for our loved ones to arrive.

It seemed like we waited a long time for Arabella to arrive. Everyone else arrived before her. We watched while the others embraced with a smile and sat down as if in a regular restaurant to have normal conversations. Arabella arrived in disarray clutching a notebook with the word password written on it. She said password was the password and if we could read it, we could look inside. She cautioned us that the hospital was bugged. First we had to bug the system to debug the system. It was strange because they were having issues with their phone system which Arabella slid comfortably into a delusion that everything was bugged so we had to go to a different algorithm.

Arabella said she was a genetic freak. She was born of one woman and two men. She had an extra chromosome. She said she was colorblind, men can only see primary colors and women can only see secondary colors. She said she liked apple juice because she ate from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. When she ate she knew all the answers to all the problems of the world.

She said she needed Bryan to come to the hospital because he was her soulmate, her other half. Her bloodwork wouldn’t be complete without him coming in the have his blood drawn. They were storm chasers and she could leave now because it wasn’t storming. She spoke of science, DNA, physics, time travel, and biology. The things she was saying had an iota of truth but was jumbled and didn’t make a lot of sense. She was unable to hold a conversation with us.

But the most troubling thing was that she was slurring her words off and on. We noticed that when we were talking on the phone several times but thought maybe it was from being sedated. She held her mouth funny at random times and words almost seemed to whistle through her teeth. She said she couldn’t talk because no one ever showed her how to talk right. She also said no one ever showed her how to brush her teeth and she had gingivitis.

We were very concerned about her new symptoms. Then she started singing. They said sometimes she would sing loudly in her room. When visiting time was over, the patients had to line up on one side and the visitors on the other. Arabella went her own way and started to take one of the signs off the wall. We told her she couldn’t take the signs off the wall.

We left in shock. Our daughter was still gone. Would she ever be the same again?

Green light, red light 4

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The aftermath after our daughter was committed was like that of a bomb going off. We were left with shattered lives and broken pieces of rubble. Shards impossible to put back together even as it was a few weeks before everything crumbled.

I can’t find the way back.

We both walked around like zombies afterwards. It’s even hard to focus enough to tell this story adequately. But that’s all a part of being in crisis mode. In utter despair our tears fell to the ground. Arabella was doing so well for the first six months after jail living at home. She found a job. We gave her a stable environment and that gave us a false sense of hope and control. The stress of her tonsillectomy was enough to send her into a relapse worse than we ever saw her in before. She was seeing things and talking to people who weren’t there.

I can’t find the road she is on.

The prognosis bleak, the illness severe. But it’s not the kind of illness where anyone brought her flowers and sent her cards to get well soon. There will be no speedy recovery. Schizophrenia, people shudder in fear and stay away as if it’s contagious. It’s not the mental illness offering up cutesy meme’s of awareness and support. It’s scary and shameful without go fund me and caring bridge pages.

I can’t find anyone who really cares.

I don’t want to talk about it over and over again to people who don’t understand. It’s exhausting in every possible way. I feel tired when I wake up. Bipolar mania, she needs support day and night. She needs support when I need to sleep. No, you can’t buy a snake. You talk too long and too loud. I need a break just to get the things done I need to get done.

I don’t have the strength to do this anymore.

Borderline personality disorder, sometimes you love me and other times you hate me. Which will it be today? It’s too much trapped inside of one body. Finally the doctors were seeing in the hospital what we were seeing at home. Right away, she signed an AMA (against medical advice) to come back home. They had 24 hours to evaluate her before she was going to come back home. Could we even take her back home? She had nowhere else to go.

I don’t know how to help her.

Sunday morning I tried to hide my swollen eyes as I went to church. I felt bitterness enter my heart. I didn’t want to see the happy healthy families. I don’t want to hear about kids going into the ministry. My daughter thinks she is God, does that count? It’s painful to see the normalcy all around me, like being impoverished while everyone is feasting on their riches. I don’t feel the joy or God’s blessings. I think I’ve been cursed since the day I was born. I don’t want to see suffering anymore. Sometimes I even get bored with my feelings of anger towards a God who is supposed to be loving.

Yet I can’t find the way.

What were we going to do? Where are the answers? What if she comes home too early in an agitated psychotic state? Do I call the police? Do I send her back to jail? Do I have her face her felonies or go to prison for an illness she didn’t choose and doesn’t have control over? How was I going to make hard decisions when I couldn’t even think? Decisions that could affect the rest of her life.

Yet I can’t find the way.

We had to find a way to get her to stay as if our very lives depended on it.

Where is the way?

Green light, red light 3

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Arabella said she would go to the hospital if her dog Bryan could go with her. We waited for what seemed like an hour for the crisis center employee to find an open bed. Afterwards, she told us she found a place for Arabella. However, they would not accept dogs real or imagined. Arabella said that was okay because she was on the same wavelength as Bryan so she could take him in her mind. As soon as we could, we left for the hospital. The officers reminded Arabella to follow the rules and they left as well.

The ride to the hospital was long, not in distance but in endurance. Although it was late morning, I was exhausted. Arabella kept talking about algorithms, time travel, and said strange things like her dad wasn’t her dad. She didn’t have a dad, but then all dads were collectively her dad. She wasn’t making a lot of sense and I just tried to listen and placate her until we got there.

We went along with Arabella into the assessment room. We had to lock up all our belongings in a locker before we could enter. They took a wand to sweep over our bodies for weapons. Finding none, they opened the door with a badge and took us into the assessment room without windows. Once we entered, the door locked behind us closing us in the small room with the assessor.

There was paperwork to fill out and questions to answer. We didn’t have all the answers, but most of the time Arabella answered with green light, red light so we gave him our best guess. When was the last time that Arabella felt suicidal? We didn’t know. She was having a hard time being present. At times, she would laugh at nothing. When I asked her why she was laughing, she responded she could see lights and diamonds all over the walls.

On some forms, she wrote down that her name was God. She didn’t know how old she was because she was in an alternate world with alternate time. The questions she answered either yes or no almost angrily without expression. She told the assessor that she was married to Bryan and she lived with him. She said she was the president of the United States. About ten minutes later, the assessor asked Arabella if she was the president in which she emphatically answered, “What, NO.” She said she was several cartoon characters.

Arabella tapped on the assessors computer and said the computer was bugged. Then she stopped answering most questions and asked us repeatedly as her parents whether we chose red light or green light. If we answered green light, she said it was time to go home. If we answered red light, she said it was time to stop and go home. She wanted to get back to Bryan who was waiting for her at home.

After awhile, I asked the assessor what time it was. I made lunch plans with my friend Jen several weeks ago. Earlier in the morning, I pushed the time back to 12:30. It was already past 12:30. I asked the assessor if I could be let out to check my phone. Jen texted me 10 minutes earlier to tell me she was waiting for me at a table. What was I going to do? I asked the assessor if he thought it would be a while yet. He said the assessment was a lot more complex then he thought and would probably be a while. I decided to meet up with my friend and left Paul behind with Arabella.

I ordered a large pizza to bring some food back for him. We left in such a hurry we didn’t bring anything with us to even drink. In the hours we were there, we were each offered a small bottle of water. That was it. I quickly stopped back home to check on the dogs and grab my glasses. Everything was just as we left it. The lights were on and the coffee mugs were left on the table. As I was heading back I received a text from Paul saying he was ready to go home.

It was a miracle he was able to talk Arabella into admitting herself into the hospital to receive help. We were in a crisis mode, but the good news was that the doctors were finally able to see Arabella in the psychotic state we were telling them about. The last time it happened, she got arrested.

Green light, red light 2

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After not being able to reach anyone to talk to besides the receptionist at the psychiatrist’s office upon opening in the morning, Paul and I called the crisis center. The lady at the crisis center asked us to try to bring Arabella in. We weren’t sure if that was possible, but we were going to try. Paul went to her bedroom to try to convince her. She said she would go. Paul asked me to grab his jacket so we could leave ASAP.

I tried to follow Arabella out to the car while she screamed at me to get away. There was no way I was going to stay home. When she got into the back seat, I slid into the back seat on the other side. I was afraid she might try to jump out of the car on the way and that somehow by sitting next to her I would be able to prevent that or could de-escalate her.

Once we got on the highway, Arabella wanted us to take her back home. She said she left Bryan at home sleeping in her bed. She wanted him to be with her. Then she said Bryan was her dog and she was Stuey from Family Guy. But Bryan was also her other half, her soulmate. He felt the same way and they were going to get married. Bryan’s boyfriend found out he was no longer gay on a VR headset and now she could marry him.

Arabella asked us to turn on a radio station in the car that was on her wavelength. It had to be a specific number she could get messages from. She asked Paul to turn the volume up. Anything to placate her. Then she asked him to open the car windows, which he did a little as it was cold outside in the morning. She was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, but she seemed impervious to the cold. Paul didn’t know how to get to the crisis center. I took her there before but he never did. When I tried to give him directions, Arabella screamed at me to shut the f up multiple times. She shoved me back into the seat.

Not only was Paul trying to get there in the hurry, he was distracted by the thought of me being in danger. He drove erratically with one eye on the rearview mirror. I typed the address into my phone map and tossed the phone to him. We convinced her to go into the crisis center with us by saying Bryan was inside waiting for her. Once inside, Arabella became quite agitated. The employees at the crisis center called the police. I told them to ask for a CIT officer, someone trained in mental health crisis intervention. Arabella ran into the parking lot to try to find Bryan who was interchanging between her soulmate and the dog. She yelled into her phone at him like it was a walkie talkie but he wasn’t really on the phone with her.

She left wearing clothes inappropriate for the weather. We asked if she would be considered a danger to herself and they told us she would not be unless she decided to walk into traffic. We wanted her to be committed, but she had to be a danger to herself or others first unless she went in voluntary and that was going to take A LOT of convincing.

Paul tried to talk her into coming back in, which she did and finally started the assessment with the crisis center employee. She was saying off the wall things. She said she has autism which was the same thing as Down’s Syndrome. The only cure for Down’s Syndrome was meth which would make it into Up Syndrome. The officers arrived as she was talking to the assessor. We explained everything to the officers.

We weren’t sure if Arabella was going to stay. She was nervous once the officers arrived, but said since the exit sign above the door was green instead of red it meant she had to stay. She started repeating green light, red light repeatedly. Then the police officers left and were replaced by officers from the sheriff’s department. Everything happened in a blur but we were there several hours. The officers told Arabella she needed to follow the rules. You cannot push your mother. She replied that she was shaken as a baby. For some reason that shocked me more than anything else she said.

The officers said if Arabella was not willing to seek treatment, they might be able to arrest her for disorderly conduct for shoving me. Then she would have to go back to jail. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to press charges. That would mean her probation would be revoked and then her felonies might be on her record permanently at the age of 20. I didn’t know if I could do that to my daughter, but I didn’t know if I could bring her back home in the state she was in either.

She was agitated, manic, delusional, and having hallucinations which clearly wasn’t her fault or how she would have chosen to live her life.

Green light, red light 1

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Arabella’s tonsillectomy on Valentine’s Day went smoothly. Four days after the surgery, we did end up taking her to the ER late one evening because she was bleeding from one side. I felt rather iffy about taking her in. I wanted to try ice chips and some other things first but she was having nothing to do with it. She was freaking out and said if I didn’t take her in, she would drive herself. I ended up taking her in more because of her mental state than her physical state. She was starting to spiral. It didn’t turn out to be anything serious.

Other than that, everything was relatively uneventful. For a week, she had a really sore throat and could barely talk. Once she started feeling better, she did nothing but talk. At first I thought she was just making up for lost time. She was awake a lot more than normal. She started asking if she could have a pet snake. I told her no. She went to the pet store to look at snakes, did a little begging but the answer remained the same.

The next several days she didn’t seem to sleep at all. She spent much of her time playing video games, watching TV, and texting friends. She seemed rather agitated if anyone tried to get a word in edgewise and dominated conversations. She started to talk about strange ideas. She said she had Dissociative Identity Disorder and that cartoon characters were her different personalities. Then she said she had autism. She said she was just trying to understand herself and while she wasn’t sleeping her brain was processing a lot of information quickly.

She was awake when I woke up in the morning, awake all day, and pacing the floor in the evening. She was awake when I checked on her in the middle of the night. She told me her best friend Bryan was the reincarnation of Jesus Christ and she was the reincarnation of Mary Magdalene. The Bible, YouTubers, and TV shows were talking to her in subliminal messages. She was able to go to a different algorithm in an alternate world.

She set up an appointment with a new therapist. She left on time wearing inappropriate clothing with unwashed stringy hair. I was feeling hopeful about it but later she said she didn’t go. She couldn’t tell me why she didn’t go. I was concerned it might be a probation violation. By that time it was almost a full week of mania and delusions which were progressively getting worse. One of her friends reached out to me saying she was worried that my daughter needed help. She was texting some people nonstop about her delusional thoughts.

Any hopes I had of her living a relatively normal life were completely dashed. The first six months after getting out of jail, she was doing really well. Everyone was getting along. She was taking showers and wearing makeup. She got a job and was scheduled to go back to work after her surgery. Then after surgery everything started falling apart. I don’t even know why.

She said she was cutting herself to try to get out of her body. But now her skin was see through. She had x-ray vision and was able to see into people’s souls. She had super powers. It’s all very hard to explain because it makes so little sense to me.

By Friday morning, she was a lot worse. We knew we had to do something. When I went to check in on Arabella in the morning, she screamed and swore at me wanting me to go away. She was very agitated and didn’t want to talk. I could hear her in her room angrily yelling and swearing on a one sided conversation.

The first call we were going to make was to the psychiatrist’s office which wasn’t open yet. In the meantime, we got ready to leave in a moment’s notice.