Anxiety

Green light, red light 6

/ Outrunning my demons / 3 Comments

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.

Freezing to death

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I naively thought we might have escaped the harshness of winter with our unseasonably warm December and start of the new year. Until last week, that is. We got hit with several snowstorms and kicked the weekend off with a blizzard. Then we plunged right into arctic cold wind chills.

Paul was supposed to go on an ice fishing trip in the far north woods of Wisconsin. The mild winter only produced a couple inches of ice on the northern inland lakes and Lake Superior has open water. Usually by this time of year, people are driving their trucks on the lakes and have their ice shacks set up. This year with the weak ice followed by a blizzard then arctic cold, the trip got cancelled. Although the ice is forming fast now.

While Paul was gone, I had plans to go on an overnight trip to a casino. My friend Sue, who won a small jackpot months before, had to be present for a chance to win a car and $100,000. Paul said since his plans got cancelled, he would be willing to drive us there in his truck. But with the weather, we weren’t sure if we were going or not. Normally the trip takes us two and a half hours. But since half the trip is small towns and back roads, no doubt it would take a lot longer. The side roads would be snow covered and slippery since ice doesn’t melt in subzero temperatures if the roads are not plowed right away.

We decided to brave the trip. If we waited for perfect weather conditions in our state, we would be hibernating half the year. Late Saturday morning, Paul and I set off for our trip with Sue and her husband. We had supper at an Italian restaurant with really good food. Then we went to the casino. The drawing for the car and chance to win the money was at 10 PM. While there, I saw several people win big jackpots. The place was packed with jackpot winners waiting for their chance to win yet again. Sadly, Sue didn’t win. But we had a fun time anyway.

Arabella was home watching the pets. I spent a lot of my time worrying that the dogs were going to freeze to death. It was the first night we left the dogs for the night. Even if I am home, I am very paranoid the animals are going to freeze to death. Maybe the cats will sneak outside with someone. Maybe Arabella will let the dogs out then forget to let them back in. The maybes start swirling through my head faster than the snow in the blizzard winds.

Why am I always so worried about my animals when it is cold outside?? Then it hit me. As a child of around 13, I did have some animals freeze to death when I wasn’t home. It was probably around October and it was freezing at night. Two of my outdoor cats had kittens. One had 6 and the other had 4. One of the mama cat’s was a good mom and the other cat was not. The mama cats were sisters and they took care of each other’s babies. At night, I had to lock the cats in with their kittens because one would stay and the other would not.

We hardly went anywhere, but that night we got home late. Too late, in fact. One of the mama cat’s was with a box of babies and the other was not. The box of babies without the mama cat froze to death. My mom said I needed to bury the box of dead kittens. I found a shovel. It was dusk when I found a good burial spot. The ground was cold and hard. But I was able to dig a little hole. I put my hand into the box to pick up one of the fluffy kitties. I screamed when I touched the kitten’s little frozen body. I couldn’t do it. The kitten was so cold and death was so final for these babies. I started crying and threw the box, kittens and all, into the weeds.

I felt awful. Maybe their deaths could’ve been prevented if I didn’t go somewhere with my mom and brothers. I blamed myself. And on Arctic bitterly cold days, I can’t help but worry it could happen again.

The happenings of this week…

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It’s been a crazy week to say the least. Arabella had her final (hopefully) court date. Of her three felonies; one has been dismissed, one has been reduced to a misdemeanor, and the last one will be dismissed if she successfully completes two years of probation. After court, we walked over to the probation office to sign her up. She was in an upbeat and bubbly mood talking to everyone who came her way. Before court, I took her in for a haircut. She told her hairdresser she wanted to look good for court. Never a dull moment. Then we bought some nice shoes so she didn’t have to wear crocs to court.

The day before court, Paul and I went to a volunteer appreciation banquet. While we were there, a woman I volunteer with came up to me out of the blue and asked me if I was interested in adopting two beagles. The strange thing is that Paul and I were going to start a search within the next week or so for two beagles. The owner is an elderly man who is moving next week from a house to an apartment where he cannot take his dogs. He was getting desperate to find a good home for the pups where they wouldn’t be separated from each other. We set up a time tomorrow to meet the puppies and bring them back home with us.

I also set up a time to have a home visit for the cat I put adoption papers in for. I cannot believe that within a week or so I might have 3 new pets. I am very anxious about tomorrow to meet the puppies. I also have a doctor’s appointment with the GI doctor and I’m afraid it’s not going to go very well. I think maybe I have an ulcer as I have been sick for 3 months with stomach pain. It could be colitis again but it seems different this time. I’m not sure what is going to happen but it probably involves a lot more testing.

Along with all of that, I set up an appointment for my son’s car tomorrow. Just a quick recap. Alex got the car in November and it was totaled on Christmas Eve after someone blew a red light and smashed into it. The next couple months after that were spent fixing and rebuilding the car. Now the car is running rough and doesn’t have any pick up when you hit the gas pedal. Hopefully it is not a big deal and can be fixed affordably. But my worry is that the crash did something internally as well. My son has been borrowing my car and that hasn’t been working all that well because sometimes I need it. He decided to go back to school which I am very happy about, but he needs transportation beyond my car.

Being in the accident changed my son. Now he wears his seatbelt which he refused to do before. He always said if he saw he was going to be in an accident he would slip it on real quick. You can imagine how that worked out for him. At least no one got hurt. The other thing, he is no longer interested in riding a motorcycle because he thinks it is too dangerous. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t end up getting my motorcycle license. He is planning on fixing up his motorcycle and selling it.

I am hoping Arabella learned some good lessons from her experience with the criminal justice system. Time will tell on that one. I am looking forward to this new chapter in my life being a pet mom again. I am hoping they will bring our household happiness and joy. As with most new adventures, it will be an adjustment.

Just a few more fireworks

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Tomorrow Arabella goes to court. I thought maybe she would be getting out of jail tomorrow, but now it’s doubtful. Again, I am anxious about her being in jail and about her coming home. I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. On one hand I really miss her and on the other hand she is more volatile than a mid-July storm. I want the quiet boring life, but I’m afraid it is much too late for that.

We went up north for the fourth. Alex brought up a couple of friends the first night and the second night they wanted to stay again but we had family time in mind and there was some conflict about that. We came home for the 3rd and quickly cleaned to have people over for live music at night. It was all very last minute but we had a great time. By the time the actual 4th rolled around I was exhausted. My insomnia kicked in big time and physically I felt miserable. I’m too old for a 5 day holiday weekend.

At the last minute, my son had some friends over to light off some fireworks on the 4th. I told them it was okay but they had to shut everything down by 10. They started at 9:15 and at 9:30 the next door neighbor came out and started yelling and swearing at them. He said his baby couldn’t sleep and they had to work the next morning. Then Paul got upset and kicked everyone out. There was a lot of conflict between our son, ourselves, and our neighbor. Everyone apologized and it gave us a good opportunity to work things out, but it was stressful.

We are having problems with our 17 year old cat. It is getting close to the time where I need to think about putting him down. It’s a hard decision to make. My parents aren’t doing well either. My dad is still in and out of the ER after his surgery and can’t take care of himself all that well. My mom is starting to get dementia. To be honest, she was showing signs for over a year now. But I really didn’t want to accept it. Maybe she was just stressed out or tired. Then this past weekend, she told my niece she forgot how to use the oven and asked her for help so she could make French fries. So my parents are stumbling along with my dad being the mind and my mom being the one who can still get around. Very soon there will be some more hard decisions to make.

Meanwhile, Paul had an emergency at work that was very stressful but turned out okay. At times, we are completely overwhelmed. The doctor increased my anti-depressant and insomnia medication. The last several days I’ve been sleeping better which has really helped.

It’s my birthday this week, the big 49, my last year in my 40’s. We just found out that a friend of ours was in the ER the same time I was. Except she got bad news. Stage 4 lung cancer that went into her brain. She is my age. She just got her PhD a few years back and was starting to live the life she wanted and now this. Life sure is fleeting. I feel bad because although I am going to be okay, I haven’t really been enjoying life much lately. Sometimes I just muddle through and that’s not living life to its fullest. But for now I guess it’s good enough.

Hanging on

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I reached the end of my rope yet somehow still kept hanging on. An ambulance ride to the ER, two MRI’s, an EEG, and 25 vials of blood later nothing can be found wrong with me. I’ve heard that stress can kill you and boy did it do a number on me. I am feeling better, back to myself again. Or back to some sad version of me anyway.

My dad had his surgery, spent the night in the hospital, and was back in the ER the following day. But things have settled down. My brother Luke was in town and stopped by for a visit. It’s good to know we are on the same page. Our mom is starting to slip mentally. We are not sure what to do about it. She is not taking good care of our dad. But our dad made his own bed through a lot of bad decisions and has to live with that. We are going to play things by ear. Kind of like a watchful waiting.

Meanwhile, we are starting to prepare for Arabella to get out of jail. Yesterday we invited our old friend over whom we haven’t seen in over 10 years and told him our daughter was accusing him of raping her as an infant. It was a difficult but necessary conversation since Arabella spoke recently of contacting him when she gets out of jail. We know he didn’t do it. Come to find out he now lives a block away from us. I did a Google search on him and it pulled up his full address and phone number. If I could find him in two seconds, I know she will be able to as well. She could even walk to his house to confront him. We had to warn him. He had no idea why we would reach out after all these years. He thought maybe we were offering him a job or something not telling him he might have to watch his back and possibly file a restraining order.

This is the first summer I’m not really looking forward to. Life just has been way too serious lately and not very much fun. I’m not sure what life is going to look like when our daughter gets home. Plus now we have legal expenses and medical bills when I’d rather use the money for travelling.

On a good note, my husband, Angel, and Alex really stepped up when I was sick. I have a core group of people who are pulling for me. Through all of the stress, Paul and I are working together to keep our marriage strong. Although I’d rather not struggle at all, it helps to have a partner to go through this together. I’m not very hopeful for my daughter’s future, but we are doing everything we can to support her which I can say no matter what happens we did all we could.

We might have to put down our cat in the near future. He is around 17-years-old and is not in the best health. I know, I know…not a lot of good news, but that’s life. I’m just glad right now to be feeling better. What a wake up call. I thought I had MS. I had visions of myself spending a good chunk of the rest of my life in a wheelchair. It was terrifying and I can’t imagine having serious health issues. I think it opened my eyes in a new way to the suffering of others. It’s scary when your body doesn’t do what you want it to do. I couldn’t trust myself. I had to cancel the motorcycle class and I’ve decided to let that dream go.

I’ve been trying to deal with my stress in a healthy way. It got pretty scary when what was once working no longer seemed to work. I think I’m back on track again. We’ll see what happens.

Breakdown

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I think it started with the Mother’s Day letter I got in the mail Arabella sent me from the mental hospital. It was a well written heartfelt letter telling me what a great mother I am. When she called me later that afternoon from jail I was looking forward to talking to her. But since she wrote the good mom letter her mood had changed to me being a bad mom. The contrast from the letter to the phone call the same day I read it was from day to night. She accused my husband and I of horrible things to the point where my husband walked away from the call and I stayed. She blamed us for being shitty parents and that is why she is in jail.

It was that day I decided to let it go. I had to accept she is never going to change. Everyone had been harping on me to let go and let God. I don’t understand how people can find comfort in God. Although I loosely believe all I seem to find is anger and pain. I made the choice to let go and I stopped caring. I had finally reached the end of my rope. I drank more than I ever drank in my life. I just didn’t care. I didn’t even want to live anymore. I struggled with insomnia and nightmares. I woke up exhausted and my body ached.

Arabella called me about her delusion that an old friend of ours sexually assaulted her. She asked me what I thought of it. I asked her if it was possible she was delusional to think our friend raped her while she was sleeping as a child. She said what I was saying was correct, he didn’t rape her as a child but as an infant. She said she was planning on finding and visiting him when she gets out of jail. My stomach dropped. We have to find him before she does. He is in danger.

Meanwhile, my mom cancelled my dad’s surgery. I don’t think she wanted to take care of him after the surgery because she had plans for an extended weekend away to celebrate her sister’s birthday. She asked if I would take care of him. I told her I was busy. I had to work Friday and Saturday then had plans on Sunday to watch Angel complete her first half-marathon. Afterwards, Paul was going to show me how to do some paperwork for our business and we had some things we needed to do around the house because come Monday he was scheduled to work 9 days straight. It’s the busy season for our business.

My mom left anyway. On Saturday my mom asked if I could take care of my dad. She said he wasn’t able to carry food with his walker. I replied if dad needed me to help him give me a call and I would try to figure something out. I felt a tremendous amount of guilt. That is when the tremors started in my arms. My mom never responded to my text but decided to come home early. She posted a picture of herself at home that evening on her BeReal looking disappointed.

The next morning I started having tremors in my hands, face, and legs. I was having a hard time walking. I hadn’t been feeling well and had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for later that afternoon. My son insisted on taking me after he saw my tremors. At the doctor’s appointment I was tremoring pretty badly. The doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong. She ordered a MRI and took 15 vials of blood. I didn’t bother trying to hide how stressed and depressed I was. I was always mistrustful of telling the doctor about the severity of my anxiety and depression and that I have PTSD. I was afraid I would be committed and medicated. But I no longer fear that because with my daughter I realized how much of a joke the mental health care system is. I did relent to being put on anti-depressants though.

The tremors turned into seizures where I was fully conscious. I started to think something was seriously wrong with me like MS. I had other symptoms too. My eyes hurt. They were blurry, puffy, and very sensitive to light. At times I had double vision. I stopped eating. Food stopped tasting good. I felt nauseous and my stomach was upset. I only ate a few bites once a day after being forced by my family. I couldn’t even be tempted by my favorite foods. I was still experiencing insomnia. I felt numbness and tingling in my arms similar to the feeling right before a blood pressure cuff is released. My body ached. I couldn’t focus on anything and the exhaustion was overwhelming. I struggled at times to think and speak. I thought my life was over.

My dad was in and out of the ER. One day my mom posted a picture of him on BeReal in the hospital in a gown on a gurney with a nurse taking care of him. I don’t know how I felt about my dad and the possibility of him dying. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.

Thursday night Arabella called and said grandma was going to bail her out of jail if it was okay with me. We got into an argument. I felt angry with my mom thinking she threw me under the bus. I told Arabella she can’t get out because if she messed up again with the felonies against her it would mean prison. But she didn’t listen. Then I talked to my mom. My anger turned to worry. She was worried about my dad. She was worried because she thought my brother Luke was angry with her. She dumped her problems on me and I felt stressed.

By Friday morning of Memorial Day weekend my seizures got worse. I could barely walk. My mom texted me my dad was back in the ER. Then as Paul was checking on me from work, I had a huge convulsion where I fell to the floor. I hit my head on the refrigerator. Paul could hear me flopping on the floor. He called our son to come over and check on me. Alex found me convulsing on the floor. It wouldn’t stop and I had no control over it. Alex called 911 and told them to please hurry. He talked calmly to me, patted my arm, and told me I was going to be okay.

I could hear the sirens getting closer. The next thing I know there are a whole bunch of people in my house. They gave me a shot of Benadryl, but the seizures still didn’t stop. They strapped me in a chair and put me into a gurney then got me into the ambulance. They gave me another shot, this one was painful and the seizures stopped. They tried to put an IV into my arms but they both collapsed. They were talking about my veins out loud and I thought I was going to throw up. They finally got an IV in my hand. I felt tired and dizzy as I watched the traffic behind us as the ambulance took me to the hospital without the sirens on. I watched for my son’s car but couldn’t see him.

The next thing I know I was in an ER room. A few minutes later Alex and Lexi showed up with Angel and Dan. I could tell my kids were frightened and crying. Paul left work early and was on the way. My best friend works in the hospital and soon she was on her way too. They set me up to get a MRI right away, but the seizures started up again. This time they put me on a strong anti-anxiety medicine. Paul arrived right before they wheeled me into the MRI. I was in and out of dreams. I heard loud noises. My family went to the cafeteria and waited. They thought it would take a half an hour and it took two hours. They thought maybe I would die. At the end I was awake. I felt a lot of pain in the back of my head. I was becoming restless.

The doctor came in after everything was done. He said he was puzzled by my condition. The MRI turned out fine. I didn’t have a brain tumor and it didn’t show up anything concerning. They told me to contact neurology after the holiday weekend and sent me home. The seizures continued. I imagined my life in a wheelchair. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to be a burden for my family.

My daughter cancelled her plans for the weekend including going out of town for a friend’s wedding. She worked out of my house. She did the cooking and cleaned my house. She wouldn’t let me be alone for one second. She didn’t let me walk alone. My son helped out with appointments and wouldn’t let me leave his side while he was with me either. My kids really stepped up. Even their friends offered to help. Arabella didn’t know anything about it. Even my dad called several times to check on me which was puzzling because of our relationship. In those ways, it brought us all closer.

For the first few days everyone was amazing. They treated me like I was on my deathbed, all hugs and love you’s. Everyone thought I could die. Then they became desperate. My husband was sobbing because he felt helpless and didn’t understand why I was suffering the way I was. He never cries. He became a Google doctor. He thought maybe this was a side effect of my sleeping pills. He wanted me to stop taking them. So did my son. His girlfriend and Angel thought it was dangerous to just stop taking my meds. They were discussing me like I wasn’t even there. No one knew what to do.

Meanwhile, my mom went up north for the holiday weekend and left my dad home alone. My dad ended up falling in the middle of the night and calling the rescue squad. My sister-in-law Carla got into a fight with my mom up north. She screamed at my mom out in the yard, regardless of the neighbors around, for cancelling my dad’s surgery and not taking good care of him. She totally lost her shit and my brother Mark had to leave with her.

Arabella yelled at Paul saying he turned grandma against her. She said someone in jail might pay her bond if she does special favors for them when she gets out. My daughter could be showing up on our doorstep at any time. Without talking to me Paul asked my parents if they would take her in if she shows up. My dad went to the ER again. My mom told us my dad wants to die. Paul said to her well join the club. I thought my husband was going to have a heart attack he was so stressed.

I kept having seizures. Sometimes I felt like I wanted to die. At other times I felt a great amount of fear like I was going to be attacked. Any small thing could set me off.

They told me to get an appointment with the neurologist after the holiday weekend. The earliest they could get me in was the middle of July. They told me to call everyday to see if there were any cancellations. I was able to get in the end of the week. My husband raced me there like I was going to the ER. He was incredibly stressed and almost got into a couple accidents on the way. As I was sitting in the full waiting room I started having convulsions again. I started crying saying I didn’t want to do this anymore. They took me in to do an EEG right away. They also took 8 more vials of blood.

Although I didn’t get all the test results back yet, the nurse said she couldn’t find anything wrong with me. She basically told me in a polite way that it was all in my head. She didn’t think it was ALS or MS, she thought it was from stress. My husband was overjoyed exclaiming it was wonderful news. I was pissed. I felt like something was wrong with me. I felt like I didn’t have any answers. If it’s all in my head why would my body do this to me? I can handle a lot of stress. I felt embarrassment and hatred towards myself. I just wanted to crawl in a corner and die. My husband asked why I wasn’t happy with the news. Did I want to die? I told him spending the rest of my life with a serious illness is not how I wanted to die. I just couldn’t believe my body would betray me like this. How could I trust myself? I had to cancel my motorcycle class. I’m not even allowed to drive right now.

After the appointment, I started to feel better. I’m not going to die. I started to eat again. Every day I’ve been having some small tremors but nothing major. It was a very traumatic experience for my family and I. Through it we learned some important lessons. I really matter to my husband and two oldest kids. They will be there for me if I need them. It was a wake up call to find a way to de-stress. In some ways it was a positive experience.

I really hope nothing like this ever happens to me again. I just wanted to explain what happened and why I was gone.

treatment

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We were misguided to think Arabella would receive mental health treatment while incarcerated. Everything was happening so slowly with the courts and before we knew it a month slipped away. Last Monday Paul started the process of calling around to see what inpatient programs would accept an inmate. She had to meet the criteria of being suicidal or homicidal to be admitted.

Tuesday Arabella called collect from jail. Paul and I connected our phones together so Arabella could talk to the intake person at the treatment center. She was in this inpatient program three times before and they said they would be willing to take her again.

Wednesday we had a phone conference scheduled with the lawyer. We told him Arabella would be accepted into a mental health inpatient program. He moved up her bond hearing and arraignment for Friday morning.

Thursday we followed up with the treatment center. They said they still had an opening since they were releasing several patients that very day. But they also said they weren’t sure if they would accept Arabella because even though she met the criteria several days ago she might not meet it when she came in. We really weren’t sure what was going to happen. What if they didn’t accept her? Would she come back home? Being delusional and self-harm didn’t meet criteria for admittance. They were worried she might be seeking treatment just to get out of jail.

Late Friday morning, Paul and I headed to court. I was so anxious I literally felt sick. My stomach burned. I felt like I was going to throw up and/or pass out. I saw my daughter for the first time in over a month in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit. She was making small talk with the bailiff. He was asking her what she learned from her experience. After the lawyer came in, the judge was called in. My daughter pled not guilty to her criminal counts. Then the judge said he would release her to an inpatient treatment program. We were to be agents of the court and provide transportation to the clinic. If she was not accepted, she needed to go back to jail. Upon completion, she is also supposed to report to jail. I felt more secure in the fact she was not going to be coming home.

Paul and I decided to go to a buffet for a quick lunch and then head to the jail to pick Arabella up. We thought we could just walk in and she would be ready to go shortly. Again, we were misguided. The receptionist said she did not receive paperwork from the court to release our daughter to us for treatment. She told us to take a seat and we ended up sitting there for 4 hours. Thankfully I brought a book with me because it was not my first rodeo at the mental hospital. At least I knew that would take a lot of time and was prepared to hurry up and wait.

Because of COVID, they no longer have in person visitation at the jail. Instead in the lobby they have kiosks set up where you can do visits on a computer screen. We sat in a row of chairs with our backs to the kiosks. People came and went. It was hard to focus on my book.

There was a mom with two toddlers running around the lobby. She kept screaming at them. Before she left she told the kids to say good-bye to daddy. It was a little quieter for awhile. Then there was a woman who came in that screamed and hysterically cried the whole time. She kept asking what the inmate wanted her to do with their shit. There was a lot of swearing and yelling so it was hard to sit with my back to her and read my book. At the end of the visit the woman was crying and telling the other person not to leave her. It was intensely personal and uncomfortable.

Then a mom and grandma came in to talk to a guy. Grandma said her cancer screen came back with good results. Their conversation was just an every day conversation about life. Another guy told someone to hang in there and that he was always there for her. There were multiple heartrending conversations going on at the same time. I never heard the inmates response because the conversations were over the phone.

Then people started coming in. One lady came in to get an electronic monitoring system. The receptionist said the person who does that was not in today and she would have to go back to jail. The woman said she could not be incarcerated because her lungs were too bad. She sat with us for awhile too along with another woman who was with her while waiting for the courts. Several guys came in for DNA samples. They received notification they had to come in Monday through Friday but when they got there they were told samples were collected on the weekends only.

There were signs on the wall telling people to report suicidal inmates which I thought was a joke. It is virtually next to impossible to get your suicidal inmate treatment. At 4 PM, the receptionist said the lobby was closing and we would have to wait in the night lobby which was unmanned. They still did not receive documents from the court and the courthouse was closing in a half an hour. We didn’t know what to do. We left a message for the lawyer and tried calling the courthouse with no luck. We thought about leaving. What if no one gets back to us because it is Friday night? And not just any Friday night, but the Cinco de Mayo night of a full moon.

People started being released. A young woman desperate and not sure what to do. Did we have a couple bucks for a bus pass? From everything I learned over the course of the last couple hours and months was that inmates are people too needing kindness and compassion. Then two men were released. They were a lot rougher looking. There was a big angry man swearing about not getting his Oxy back and an unkempt guy with a teardrop tattoo. I reminded myself they are people too. I was getting a little nervous but I didn’t want to show fear. I’m glad my husband was there. But they didn’t pay any attention to me at all. Then another man came out who walked close and stared at me. Finally Arabella came through the doors and we were on our way to the mental health center.

Arabella said she was in medium security at jail. Her cellmate was in and out of jail for manufacturing and delivering heroin, neglecting a child, prostitution, and stealing someone’s identity. She will be heading to prison for several years. It makes me nervous to think about the things she is learning in jail and the friends she is making there. And to think I thought the friendships she made in the mental hospitals were bad.

We arrived at the mental hospital and they were ready for Arabella with minimal wait. I again was misguided to think it wouldn’t take long since it took another 4 hours. Arabella arrived disheveled looking with a stained sweatshirt and granny undies that hung out of her short shorts exposing her cutting wounds. They took her back for the assessment which they said would take 45 minutes to an hour. Once again, I pulled out my book. Another couple came in with a teenage daughter. I guessed they were newbies since they didn’t bring anything to keep them occupied and spoke to each other in hushed worried tones. They wore the expressions of parents of the newly mentally ill. It’s so incredibly stressful. After awhile it wears on you and becomes just another part of who you are. You get used to it.

Two hours later, we ask if Arabella was still getting her assessment. We reminded the receptionist that although our daughter is an adult we need to be notified if they were going to take her because if not we needed to transport her back to jail. The receptionist assured us they would notify us. A psychologist on her way out stopped to talk with us. She told us they would know if our daughter was having delusions and be able to get her the proper treatment. She thought the system failed us and offered suggestions for support and resources we weren’t aware of yet.

Awhile later we were notified Arabella was going to be admitted. They said we could sit with her since it would be awhile before she could be admitted. She was in the back room singing. That is another odd behavior lately, randomly singing in public. The intake person let us visit for awhile locking us in with Arabella.

By the time we got home that night and ate supper it was close to 10 PM. We accomplished what we set out to do which was getting our daughter treatment. It took a lot out of us, though, and we feel totally exhausted. But sometimes being a parent is doing everything you can do to help your child.

ghosted

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

I think my mom is mad at me. I haven’t heard from her in days. She is like that sometimes. There have been periods in my life where she has given me the silent treatment for days and then later acts like nothing is wrong. Or sometimes she smothers me.

I think I know why she is angry. Last week my mom was on vacation with her sister visiting their other sister at her condo in Florida. She called me almost every day she was gone. The first time she called on speaker phone wanting an update about Arabella. I was really annoyed by that because, although I don’t mind my aunts and uncles know my daughter is in jail, I didn’t want to talk to them about it. It was during that conversation my mom told me something was wrong with my dad but she didn’t know what because he didn’t tell her while she was on speaker phone.

One day she called wanting me to go check on my dad because he didn’t pick up his phone when she called him. My dad doesn’t live next to his phone. I told her he probably forgot to charge it. It turned out not to be a big deal. My mom calls wolf a lot so it’s hard to believe anything she says. A couple months back my brother Luke wasn’t feeling well. My mom thought his kidneys were failing because he has kidney disease and practically asked me if I thought my husband would be willing to give my brother a kidney. It turned out being a virus or something and he wasn’t dying. I take everything my mom says with a grain of salt.

The next evening my mom called while I was driving for a night out to go to the film festival with Paul, Alex, and Lexi. I didn’t want to deal with it so I didn’t answer my phone. My mom is known for catching me when I’m off to do something fun and guilting me about it bringing me down. When I didn’t answer, she called Alex. She never calls my son so I knew she was tracking our location and knew he was with me. Alex called her back and she dumped all her problems on him.

The next day she called me again wanting me to go check on my dad. I asked her what was wrong and she said my dad didn’t get off the couch for a couple of days. I’m not sure why that was a problem because my dad hasn’t gotten off the couch for about 20 years. I asked her if he called stating he needed help and she said she didn’t talk to him for a couple of days. I told her to verify if he needed help before I drove out there. She never called me back.

I don’t talk to my dad, but I don’t not talk to him either. If we actually had a relationship and my mom wasn’t calling wolf all the time, I would’ve dropped everything to check up on him. I decided I don’t want to be a caregiver for my dad if he is in poor health. I don’t have that kind of relationship with him where I would be willing to do that. I have my hands full just dealing with my own problems right now. Besides my dad is a very tall and obese man and I don’t think I could lift him if I wanted to.

The next day my mom was back home. Later in the day she called 911 and she called late Monday night to say my dad was in kidney failure. It turns out he probably ended up getting a kidney infection while she was gone. She said he was probably going to die that evening then called Tuesday to say he was going to be okay. Wednesday Arabella was in court. I texted her with an update and she never responded. Then I gave her a call Thursday and she hasn’t called back yet. Today is Sunday and I haven’t talked to her since Tuesday. Maybe she is angry because I didn’t go into an anxiety frenzy or drop everything to check on my dad for her. I’m sick of guessing and stressing about it. I have no idea where my dad is right now.

I recently read a book about stopping being a caregiver for the borderline or narcissist. It really opened my eyes to a lot of things. I always thought as a child I was my brother Matt’s caregiver. But through reading the book, I realized I was my mother’s caregiver. I was the second mom. I was being the parent when I was a kid. It’s a little late, but I decided it’s finally time to take care of me. My parents are capable of taking care of themselves. Sometimes I have to set boundaries to protect myself. That’s not to say I won’t help if it’s truly needed.

I’m sure my mom will call in a couple days like nothing ever happened. Then she will be upset I am going on a road trip with my friends. I hope I’m wrong.

Getting through the hard times now

/ Outrunning my demons / 2 Comments

My dad is still with us. However, yesterday we found out Paul’s uncle passed away from lung cancer just like Paul’s mom and some of her other siblings did.

Arabella had her court date yesterday. Her suffocation and strangulation felony was dropped. One of her other felonies is now a misdemeanor. She currently is being charged with one felony, substantial battery. So, one felony and three misdemeanors. To get into mental health treatment court she can’t be convicted of violent crimes. I’m not really sure how it is all going to pan out. She is still in jail. We are not sure when she is getting out.

One of the things bothering me lately is that anything can really be used as a weapon if you want to use it that way. For example, Arabella cracked Will’s head open with her cell phone so much so that he needed staples. I’m not feeling very hopeful right now about her future. She crossed a new line when she hurt someone else and I can’t trust she won’t do it again.

She is still delusional, but not to the extent she was before. A couple weeks back she had decoded the Bible and God revealed the meaning of the seven seals to her. She said she needed to get out of jail to share the revelation with all the local pastors and preach in churches.

Her first court date she was rocking her body clutching a Bible. She looked stark raving mad. It’s hard to see your child like that. I find the religious delusions difficult to handle. It just seems so unfair to me. Whereas, my husband took comfort in these delusions. She believes in God and whatever happens we’ll see her again some day. Now her delusions focus on traumas she never experienced and everyone in the family having rare mental illnesses.

It’s been a rough week and we kept ourselves busy volunteering and spending time with family yesterday. Volunteering at times can be hard because we really see the full extent of human suffering. There was a woman whose husband just walked out and left her with 6 little kids. It’s hard not to feel emotional when I see so much suffering all around me. Most of the time it’s rewarding to be able to offer some kind of help to the suffering.

I feel like I am close to my breaking point. I don’t think I could handle anything else right now. I’m so afraid something else horrible will happen and I won’t be able to go on. Just one more thing could push me over the edge right now and it’s scary.

It’s been a hard week weather wise. We had a 50 degree drop in temperature and both my arthritis and colitis are acting up. Two of my brothers got blizzard conditions where they live. Thankfully we just got a dusting of snow. My stomach has been aching every day. Maybe it’s from all the stress. How do I know if I have an ulcer? I have acid re-flux and colitis already. But how do I know if I have an ulcer? Is the pain different? I don’t want to go in, do all these tests just to tell me I have what I already have. Then they will send me home and tell me to get plenty of sleep (insomniac), exercise (can’t run anymore because of arthritis), and manage my stress. Nobody can help me take away this stress.

I’m grateful for the supportive people I have in my life. Last night I just sat in my room alone and cried. My best friend called and offered me support. It helped me get through another day. I know I can talk to my best friend, my daughter Angel, my son Alex, and my husband. Yesterday I had conversations with all of them. I honestly don’t know what I would do without them. I still have my writing to do, a purpose. My son says he wants to have 8 kids, and my daughter Angel wants 6. Not sure if that’s going to happen, but maybe I’ll be a grandma soon. Next week my husband, friends, and I have a road trip planned to Traverse City. Good things will be coming in the future, I know it. I just have to get through the hard times now.

Solving communication issues

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

Last week Paul and I had our couples therapy appointment. I think we had a breakthrough regarding some of the communication issues we have been having.

What I need from Paul is to be relational. I want to know he feels the same way or has some of the same worries so I don’t feel alone in my suffering. Paul wants me to give him hope by telling him everything is going to be okay and offer encouragement. For the longest time, we have been giving each other what we would want for ourselves. That has proved to be a frustrating experience all around.

The second time Arabella went to jail I felt very fearful for her future. There is a myriad of feelings involved when your child is incarcerated. I have been feeling despair, hopelessness, anger, guilt, anxiety, uncertainty, shame, and fear. Nothing really associated with ‘positive’ feelings about any of this. Now I usually keep these feelings to myself and go into a nice dark corner to lick my wounds. But my husband has been rather distraught by my isolation so through therapy I resolved to tell him how I feel instead. He found he didn’t really like what I was feeling.

When I am feeling despair, his response is to trust in God and everything will be okay which usually makes me quite angry. What is wrong with me? Why does he seem to have this faith that I don’t? How am I supposed to get out of survival mode if all I am doing is trying to survive? Who is the person I was supposed to be if I didn’t have childhood trauma? Trusting? Trusting in God? How do I have faith when I feel if God exists he doesn’t really care about me? Maybe he doesn’t exist at all. Why does he allow so much suffering? Why do my prayers go unanswered? If I have already given control over to God, why is he choosing this for my life?

In therapy, I told Paul I really wanted him to try to be relational, like talking to a best friend. I don’t want him to fix, solve, or tell me everything is going to be okay. I want him to commiserate with me that sometimes life really fucking sucks. He has been making the effort. He said he also has doubts about God, feels despair about our daughter’s future, and questions why there is so much unnecessary suffering in this world. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone.

Paul wants me to give him hope and tell him everything will be okay. This has been a struggle for me because it doesn’t feel authentic. I don’t know if everything is going to be okay. Arabella might end up killing herself, hurting someone else, and being in and out of jail or mental health treatment centers the rest of her life. It’s very likely the life she will end up living. I think I will outlive my daughter. Where is the hope in that? I have been trying to offer up hope and encouragement even if I don’t believe it because that is what my husband needs.

So I guess in some ways it has been beneficial to have our lives fall apart so we are able to rebuild it into something better. There really hasn’t been much Paul and I haven’t been through in life and if we survive it, maybe we can help others.