Anxiety

Monday mourning

/ Outrunning my demons / 6 Comments

I’m not in the best of moods today. I woke up at 4:30 AM choking on my own spit. Then I had to go to the bathroom. I tried to go back to sleep, but sleep didn’t come.

I was having a dream about Tom and Lisa. I had a dream their daughter ran away and that was why my daughter Arabella ran away. I thought about our friends who moved away years before. At one time I considered Lisa a best friend. We were running partners and trauma buddies. Both Lisa and her husband experienced a lot of serious trauma in their childhoods.

A couple years back Tom and Lisa’s oldest daughter died at age 16 in a fiery car accident. Their daughter was driving when she fell asleep killing herself and her friend. A year after that, Lisa’s teenage niece died. She got really drunk and fell into the river and drowned. A couple months after that her mother died. Plus the childhood trauma, I don’t know how she is doing it. Sadly, we fell out of touch when they moved several hours away. We used to talk several times a week, now we send a text every once in awhile.

The last time I spoke to Lisa she wasn’t seeing a therapist. I woke up with Lisa on my mind out of the blue. I’m wondering if she is okay.

At 6:15 AM my mom called. It is NEVER a good sign to get a call from my mom that early in the morning. My mom told me Arabella went into the ditch last night from the snowy roads. The day after Thanksgiving, my daughter moved out of the homeless shelter and back in with my mom. She got another waitressing job and things were looking better. But she already got fired from her job which is not good. She quit taking her meds.

After Arabella went into the ditch, she had her car towed to my parent’s house. Right after it was towed back, she left around 10 PM. She wasn’t back by 6 AM. My mom told me her location and I was able to figure out she was at a park and ride. My mom said she was there at least 4 hours. My mom also got a strange message from Arabella’s friend Will’s grandma saying something about Will triggering PTSD and having to lock up the knives in her house.

What the hell is going on?? Is Will suicidal? Is Arabella?? I couldn’t help but worry maybe someone would come knocking at my door to tell me my daughter is dead. It is a constant fear. My mom said Will and Arabella were planning on coming to our family Christmas party this weekend. I can honestly say I feel worried because they are both mentally unstable. I don’t think Arabella would physically hurt anyone besides herself, but I don’t even know this Will guy. Who knows what she has been telling him about us.

I worry more about violence now. I worried yesterday at the community theater show. Dan and Angel went to the show with us. The people sitting next to them were drunk and disruptive. They were talking loudly during the show, getting up, knocking over glass bottles. Dan and Angel actually told them to be quiet. How rude! But how do you know if those people could be dangerous?

Hearing the news about Arabella this morning was very triggering. At times Angel and I were close to tears. Why is my daughter mentally ill? We blamed ourselves, we blamed each other. But what good does that do?? It’s incredibly stressful wondering if today will be the day I get the phone call or knock on my door. It just tears me down to the point where I don’t even want to live anymore. Not that I’m going to kill myself, but it’s hard to feel any kind of joy. It’s just so painful.

Paul, Angel, and I started to do so much better after Arabella moved out. Our mental health improved significantly. We were under an incredible amount of stress when both my mom and Arabella were living here. The strange thing is that at the time we were blind to the effects it was having on all of us. Thankfully Paul, Angel, and I are seeing counselors to help us process everything.

I was very hesitant about seeing a counselor at first. But now I can’t imagine not seeing her. She has really helped me get through a lot of hard circumstances. That is why I worry about my dear friend Lisa. I’ll have to give her a call soon.

Wishes

/ Outrunning my demons / 2 Comments

I wish I could say my good mood has lasted but alas it has not.

I can’t pinpoint anything major just a general feeling of disappointment. Our furnace is still out, plus our boiler for our pool and hot tub are out too. We live in a big old drafty house. Something always needs fixing it seems. Thankfully we know what the problem is with our furnace and it is under warranty. We went from having to get a new furnace this morning to having to pay a couple hundred dollars to have it fixed this afternoon which is great. But I spent my whole day dealing with this and not all of the problems are fixed yet. I suppose it’s too much to ask for a switch that I can turn on to make everything work again.

I feel frustration about COVID and how it is tearing families apart for yet another holiday season. I’m angry about family attacking family over politics and vaccination status. If you don’t believe what I believe then you aren’t welcome to be a part of this family anymore but I still care about you bullshit. I’m so angry I want to cut some extended family out of my life forever. The sad thing is at one time I actually thought they might have cared.

I’m sick of hosting the family holidays. I’m angry that my mom never took it over after my grandma was unable to do it anymore. I’m angry I had to take on the responsibility in my mid-20’s after looking at my daughter that age and thinking about what I had to do at her age. I’m angry I never got to be a child or even a young adult without having to parent my parents who just never seem to be able to handle life without burdening their children.

I’m angry for the crime my dad committed. Tomorrow is the 2 year anniversary. I’m angry that some family members brush it aside as if it never happened. I’m angry that some family members harbor anger towards my daughter for turning him in. I’m angry my dad is so shitty of a dad and grandpa he will not be invited to my daughter’s wedding. I’m terribly jealous of people who have supportive parents. Neither my husband nor I have had that. I’m angry my husband and I have a hard time with relationships because no one ever taught us anything useful. What the hell is normal??

I’m angry that my relationship with Arabella is not what I want it to be. I’m angry she wants me to stop telling people she is delusional when she accuses me of starving, abusing, and torturing her. I’m angry that people feel they need to choose sides. I’m angry people question whether or not I’ve been abusive. I’m angry that I have to worry whether or not she will be alive tomorrow.

I’m angry my mom favors my brother Matt over everyone. I’m angry that he abused me as a child and I was never protected. I’m angry that my dad never taught me I was worthy of love and instead told me how stupid I was. I’m angry that I have to live with the aftermath trauma created in my life. I’m angry that I live in fear and am unable to trust.

All these things have been very painful for me. I’m this close to telling people off. I’m not sure what I need to do to get over this new bout of anger. I feel triggered thinking about family. I’m not sure what is wrong. Tis the season I suppose. I did say this time of year is hard for me.

Tonight my husband and I are meeting with a new pastor. We are thinking of leaving our church. My faith has been horrible the last two years since I found out about my dad and with my daughter’s mental health struggles. I don’t feel like I’ve gotten much support from the church. I acknowledge they are not responsible for my faith but at least offer me some guidance besides forgiveness of those who have hurt me.

If you can’t help me because you never experienced any struggles in life I can understand that as I am not an idiot. But don’t make me feel bad for something I didn’t do. I have yet to pray away my PTSD. Don’t say I don’t have enough faith to overcome my anxiety. Maybe, just maybe, I had to be this way to survive and now I’m trapped in it. I don’t know how to be any other way because I don’t remember life before the trauma started. I don’t have fond childhood memories with my parents and siblings. I wish I did.

I like the person I am but I am getting tired of the bullshit.

And so it begins

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And so it begins…my daughter stopped taking her meds. My mom told me this as we were on the way to get a massage Tuesday morning. Arabella told my mom she doesn’t have a doctor or dentist anymore which isn’t true. It all started when Arabella blamed me for the insurance not covering the next part of her psych eval. Oh if only I was powerful enough to control the decisions of insurance company coverage.

As we were talking about this my Aunt Jan called my mom. My mom put the call on speaker phone. I hate when she does that as my relationship with my aunt is not on the best terms right now. I was stressed out and really didn’t want to talk. My aunt asked how I was doing and I responded okay. I can muster up an okay I guess. My aunt went on and on about a girl from her church I was briefly friends with before she moved out of the area in grade school. She’s a dog groomer now, isn’t that amazing? She lives in a really big house, isn’t that exciting? The other day she spent the day with her father-in-law, isn’t that wonderful? Like who frickin cares??

We got to the spa and my mom got locker number 13. We laugh because bad luck can be funny. I felt like crying during my massage. My daughter quit taking her meds. How long will it be before we get a call? Don’t think about it. I’m sure things will get better. How could it be worse?

I’m glad you asked. Now rewind back one day to Monday.. I had my physical Monday morning. They did a pap smear and took my blood. I didn’t lie on the depression and anxiety forms which of course was concerning to my doctor. I told her of the insomnia and nightmares when asked. I only have nightmares now when I do dream. I’ve had periods of insomnia and nightmares since grade school.

My doctor asked if I had been drinking to cope with my problems. I told her I would if she thought that would help. Instead she offered me some pills to help me sleep at night and feel less depressed. How ironic. Drugs are not the answer, but they can be. So I said yes I will try them.

Then in the afternoon I went to the dentist because why not torture myself by seeing both the doctor and the dentist on a Monday.

Angel told me Arabella dropped off her (my) car at my mom’s house for her to take in to fix. Apparently it is not her responsibility to take care of it because it is not her car. She told my mom she has enough money to buy her own car. But she doesn’t have a job or any money. Right? Arabella told my mom and Angel that she has thousands of dollars. Maybe it’s not true. Angel said it is true because she saw the money in her account. How can this be?

Angel said she told her sister she wouldn’t tell anyone but I guessed correctly. Lucky me! Arabella decided not to get reduction surgery. Her cup size is at the back end of the alphabet in a hard to find size even online. She is 18 with a baby face. How hard is it to guess how she is making money online? Maybe I should turn off her phone but that is her only form of communication with the few people she still talks to.

Thankfully I didn’t know about this when I met with our florist friend for wedding planning. He asked how my other kids were doing. It somehow seems I am never prepared for that question. When asked I told him Arabella was between jobs at the moment.

I really haven’t told anyone this but I’ve also been having heart palpitations. The doctor thinks it’s anxiety based and I agree. Sometimes I think I am going to have a heart attack. I don’t feel like I’m having a panic attack, it just comes on quickly out of nowhere and goes away after 20 seconds a couple times a month.

I’ve also had joint pain. I’m not sure why. Maybe all the stress and long distance running finally caught up to me. The last several days I’ve had intermittent pain in my ankle. At times it is too painful to walk on, then a couple hours later it is totally fine. I couldn’t figure it out because I didn’t hurt myself in any way. This happened to me over a period of 4 days. This has happened to me before for no reason. I have joint pain in other areas as well. Maybe I’m getting arthritis? I’m awfully stiff when I wake up in the morning too.

Yesterday I got my blood work back from my physical. It showed several serious problem areas. They wanted me to come in for another blood draw. Until my lab appointment I googled the crap out of it convinced I was going to die. I hate to admit but there was a little part of me that didn’t feel disappointed. My mom came over and I talked to her of my impending doom. But then the second lab results came back fine. Lab error. Way to freak an anxious person out! After that my mom received a call saying my brother Matt was having an allergic reaction and had a rash all over his body. But for a moment I was the sick and dying one.

Maybe I should start an anti-gratitude list. There is so much crap I didn’t even tell you about like my dog falling down the stairs. I am so glad this week is almost over because I am so done with it already!

Fortune cookie wisdom #22

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“They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.”

I wanted to let you know I pick these fortune cookies randomly from a huge pile of my favorite fortune cookies collected over the past 2 years. I say this because today’s is very similar to the one I shared yesterday. After I share them with you I recycle them. I hope fortune cookies don’t become a thing of the past as I received a comment from my blogging friend LA saying they no longer give out fortune cookies at restaurants in NYC.

I absolutely love this fortune. It basically tells us we are successful if we try. I don’t need to have a million followers to enjoy blogging and telling my story. I don’t have to write a bestselling book although that would be quite the achievement. I can only fail if I don’t try. It’s really a great way to look at things.

This morning I went out for a run. I typically go four miles three times a week. Half of it I walk and half I run. You might think that’s amazing for someone of my age (47). I do not. I spent almost the whole time thinking about running and what my goals are. Honestly I am thinking about quitting or seriously cutting back after the race at the end of the month.

I have been running for the past 15 years. I think the first race I did was a 10k. I really can’t remember. I wish I kept track and wrote things down but I wasn’t writing anything at all at that time of my life. I got pretty good at running. It was nothing for me to run 10 miles without stopping. I could finish all races up to a half marathon in the top 10% of my age group. It wasn’t unusual for me to place in small town races. I devoted a lot of my time to running to get that good. I was well known on the neighborhood streets and the gym.

But that wasn’t enough, I wanted more. It made me feel alive. It was exciting. Exercise is a great way to burn off anxiety and a wonderfully healthy coping mechanism. I started doing marathons and did a 50k. I thought maybe I would qualify for the Boston marathon but I could never manage running the whole race. But that was okay, I just enjoyed the challenge.

Over a period of almost 10 years I worked my way up to running a marathon. It took a tremendous amount of dedication. It involved waking up early on Saturday mornings. Long lunch breaks. Running long boring miles on a treadmill. Getting caught in storms. Almost getting hit by cars. Getting attacked by dogs, bugs, and birds. Feeling afraid in secluded places. City streets. Remote trails. Getting injured, blistered, and chafed. Having to go to the bathroom really bad when there wasn’t one in sight. Wearing out expensive running shoes. Sweating. Freezing. Running friends. The endless search for upbeat playlists. Trying to beat my time. Travelling. Planning around weather. Competing. I loved it all until I didn’t anymore.

Then the pandemic hit. The 50k race I was planning to compete in got cancelled. My gym closed. Cold wintry weather. But the worst thing that happened was having colitis. I was incredibly sick for 10 days. I was so weak for a month after I could barely even walk. I had a hard time putting the clothes from the wash machine into the dryer without feeling exhausted. It was in that sweeping moment that I lost everything I painstakingly built over the previous ten plus years. I lost almost all of my stamina and endurance. I never was able to get it back which frustrated me. Running just reminds me of what I once had.

Now I have to face that my run might be over. My best days are behind me. Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the old and let something new begin. Part of me feels like a failure for giving up. But I am probably the only one that feels this way about me. I’ve always wanted to keep active my whole life. I achieved that goal. Now might be a great time to try other things I’m interested in like yoga or martial arts. When all else fails I’ll probably be the old lady that walks around the block a few times…

I can only fail if I don’t try, right??

Home life

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I don’t know where my daughter is right now. The last I heard she was planning on living in her car and getting a puppy. She left my parent’s house a couple of days ago.

While Arabella was in inpatient, we received an unusual fee on our bank account. Paul called the bank and they told him Arabella over drafted her custodial account by $150 so they charged us $100 and closed her account. So not only does she not have a job but she also doesn’t have any money. Previous to that, she spent hundreds of dollars a month on gambling and the arcade.

When she moved in with my mom, she begged my mom for a puppy. My mom said no. My mom said it was strange because one day while she was there the neighbors dog ran away and jumped into Arabella’s car. She probably saw that as a sign of some sort.

Arabella wanted my mom to spend $1300 for her to live in a hotel for a week. My mom said no to that too. Arabella called around to the local homeless shelters. They said they had a waiting list and the ones who have been on the streets the longest were going to get help first. It made me angry she would call the shelters. She has several places she can live at, our house and my parents house included. She is wasting resources that other people need.

It also bothers me she is wasting resources by her false accusations against us. Every time when she tells someone she has been neglected or abused they are mandated to report it even if it didn’t happen. I was told while she was in residential that they were mandated to file a report against us. Yeah, that makes sense. Someone who is willing to pay the cost of their first starter house for residential treatment isn’t willing to buy food for their kid?? It’s another waste of resources because someone has to take the time to look into the claim when there are abused and neglected children out there waiting for services.

My mom has been very upset Arabella left her house. She was visiting my brother Luke and his family when Arabella left. My mom left my brother’s early because she was having problems sleeping probably from the stress. Arabella told my mom she was going to live in her car. She was going to get a dog to live in her car with her. She was going to find people who would give her free food for this dog. My mom told her to get a job first to save up for an apartment and later a dog, but Arabella told her she didn’t want her advice.

It’s hard to think of my daughter living in her car with winter coming. But I am glad that once she came back from residential I had her go in to the doctor to get an IUD. So even if she ends up coming back home someday with a puppy it’s better than a baby. She can barely take care of herself right now.

When Paul’s mom was Arabella’s age she got pregnant with Paul. She had similar mental health issues, had dropped out of high school, and Paul didn’t have a dad. Paul’s grandma stepped up to help raise him. At least we don’t have to worry about that right now. It’s hard enough to have a daughter living on the streets not knowing where she is or if she is okay.

Since the first edition of this post this morning, my mom told me that Arabella spent the night in her car and is now living at the homeless shelter. She will be stopping by shortly to pick up more of her items. Paul wants to talk to her but I really don’t. This whole thing has been upsetting for me and I am afraid of losing my temper with her. Typically I am the calm and collected one. But I can only handle so much. I feel really anxious and trapped right now. I just want to leave. I just can’t see myself living the rest of my life feeling this way. But what can I do? I don’t have any control and can’t change things so I guess I’ll have to find a way to live through this somehow. I can’t let this ruin me but it’s hard right now.

A break

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Compared to the rest of the week, Saturday was all puppies, unicorns, and cute cuddly kitties.

Just a quick recap of the week:

  • My daughter Arabella left home and I wasn’t sure where she was staying.
  • I tripped over my elderly dog and he could barely walk.
  • I got a call saying my brother Luke was on the way to the ER with a possible stroke.
  • At the same time as I got the call about my brother, a neighbor threatened to call the police on my son who was smoking across the street in the woods with his buddies.
  • My brother Matt’s cell phone was stolen by a caregiver in his group home. Not only one, but two caregivers stole money from him and his roommate. The police needed to get involved.
  • Arabella called in the middle of the night from the ER but wouldn’t tell me what was going on.
  • My husband left for a business trip.
  • My microwave started on fire.
  • The power went out.
  • Arabella was delusional and told people that I starved and tortured her. She threatened to dox me.

The week sucked so bad I came up with the idea of having an anti-gratitude list for everything that went wrong during the week. I still might do it. I mean it could be funny. People call me a pessimist anyway. But really, I think it could be a good idea. I could start a list of the good and the bad. On Saturday I could share the bad and on Sunday I could share the good. I will overthink on it some more but I like the idea.

But back to the story…On Saturday I went up north to celebrate my niece’s birthday with Angel, Alex, and his new girlfriend. I felt like I adequately warned Alex’s girlfriend about what she was getting into. I told her she still had time to change her mind about being a part of our family. Alex said his girlfriend has a crazy family too. I highly doubt she would win that contest.

But anyway, we spent the day up north at the family cabin. We went for a walk enjoying the fall colors. I took the scooter out for a ride. I felt so free and happy riding the scooter that I still think I might get a motorcycle license next summer. We played a board game inside with a fire in the fireplace to keep warm. We laughed a lot and for a little while I didn’t worry.

The best part of the day is that everyone got along. Angel and Alex were joking around and laughing together. It meant a lot to me because they don’t always get along. Everything went well with Alex’s girlfriend who also got along with Angel. For a short blip of time there was peace and harmony.

We did talk about Arabella a little. My other kids said I was a wonderful mom and they always loved me. I told them it was hard to understand Arabella’s hatred of me since I never did anything mean to anyone in my whole entire life. Of course, we laughed about the comment I made too. Maybe I was trying to take the wonderful mom thing too far…

I had a great day on Saturday with family. That night I had a great night’s sleep, the best sleep in years. I almost felt happy for awhile. But I couldn’t sustain it for too long. Why can’t it always be like that? Then I started to think about other families with envy. They have what I want all the time, a happy healthy family. It was just a taste of what it could be like.

It was in that moment I realized I left behind the rage I felt burning fiercely for most of the week and replaced it with a deeper darker melancholy.

Lost in this

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Friday was a really long day. I’d been up since 3 AM when I saw the text my daughter was in the ER. After she hung up on me when I asked her what was going on, I wasn’t able to go back to sleep. I was tired, I’d been tired for a long time.

Later that afternoon, Arabella called me. She asked if I would co-sign on the apartment that Will and her were planning on moving into. When I was hesitant, Arabella said if I didn’t she would cut me out of her life. She wasn’t going to come home for Thanksgiving.

I told her I wouldn’t even think about co-signing until she did a couple things. I figured with a year’s lease I would be out about $10,000 if she couldn’t pay. She said she was planning on borrowing money for the down payment and the first month’s rent. I told her I wouldn’t feel comfortable signing anything unless she could assure me she had a job. She missed three shifts and they didn’t want her to come back without a doctor’s note. I wasn’t sure she would be able to get one. Get a job or your job back and I will think about it.

Another thing I wanted was for her to put Will’s name on the lease. I don’t know this guy. She said he was 21 and she met him when she was in high school. I have no idea the status of their relationship beyond mutual commiserating about previous suicide attempts. She said Will did not want to be put on a lease because he is poor which probably means he has bad credit.

When I told Arabella the conditions I had for co-signing, she became very angry. She started screaming at me and told me to shut up. Then she said fuck you and hung up on me. I got hung up on twice in one day by her. But what really stung is the last words I heard from my daughter were fuck you.

Then Arabella started texting me she was going expose me and ruin my reputation. She was going to tell everyone I tortured and starved her. She was going to tell everyone who I am and where I live. She said I was a heartless monster and now she would have to live on the streets. She said she was going to totally cut me out of her life.

The whole situation was upsetting to say the least. My husband was out of the state for work. I told him to turn off his location. I didn’t want Arabella to know he wasn’t home. My daughter Angel was very upset. She wanted us to lock the doors because she was afraid her sister would dox us and we might not be safe. We didn’t know anything about this Will guy. Who knows if he would come over?

Later I asked my son if he knew Will from school since they are the same age. Alex said that Will is bad news. He said he got kicked out of his parents house when he was 13 because he was getting into trouble. Sounds like the guy is a real sleaze ball. Wonderful, just wonderful.

Arabella showed up at my parent’s house on Friday. She told my mom that I abused her. This really upset my mom. My mom argued with Arabella and told her she was delusional, but that didn’t change her mind. At least for a couple of days I knew she wasn’t out on the streets.

The whole situation made me very angry. But I also felt fear. I was afraid of what would happen to my daughter. I also felt afraid she could somehow hurt me and the rest of my family. This is going to sound strange, but there is this nagging fear that maybe I am the crazy one. Maybe she does have something she could use against me even though I know I’ve never done anything to deliberately hurt any of my children. Paul said she reminded him of his mother, all bark and no bite. But who knows what someone who is mentally unstable is capable of? Not to mention that she surrounds herself with similar companions.

In my experience with my brother Matt, I always had to be ready. When he heard voices, he could attack at any moment. There’s no doubt I’m bringing my own trauma into the current situation. One of the hardest things is that my daughter’s last words to me were fuck you. I can’t reach her and now I’m starting to lose myself in all of this.

Borderpolar with SAD

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Last week my daughter said she accidently sent me a text which contained a screenshot of a conversation she had with her friend. As her parent, I found it to be very disturbing. I was debating on whether or not to post this and decided that I needed to talk about it. I want to warn you in advance that it might be triggering because I will be discussing drug use and suicide.

Arabella: I tripped too too hard on cough medicine that I was seeing hallucinations. Cause I took around 13 at night. And then the next morning I took 13 more. And I was planning to call the police because of them. As I was so miserable. That when I wanted to take a relaxing shower I saw the bath turn into like intestines. Something you would see only in really fucked up entertainment like movies or like books. But then there was screaming and the devil talked to me. And luckily V picked up the phone and talked with me and told me not to call the police. And just had me sit and talk with her until I went to bed or she did, one of those. And she told everyone at school that…

V: And that’s a pretty weird call to get from someone you don’t talk to regularly that you didn’t think did drugs. And she was calling to say she took too many pills and was crying saying she had to call the police because she saw the devil talking to her in a bathtub.

Arabella: That was me. That is more than 4 times the safe amount to get fucked up within 24 hours. That fucks up your liver. That’s why I don’t think I’m going to live long.

Will: I’ve tried to OD with a variety of OTC and a couple prescription pills.

On the bottom of the screenshot of the conversation between Arabella and Will there was a selfie of Arabella looking awfully messed up with the caption good-bye. Underneath it read, I took too many pills.

The first thing I did when I got the message was make sure it wasn’t recent. I believe the attempt to OD originated before residential. It wasn’t a current call 911 threat. I literally felt sick I was so heartbroken. I didn’t know or maybe I’ve been in denial. She wasn’t like this before. Her mental health issues all started with an out of the blue suicide attempt. Before that she didn’t do drugs or even drink. That all changed after her third inpatient hospitalization. She met a girl there who was into stealing and drugs. That’s when it all began. She didn’t have many friends left at that point. I thought it couldn’t be that bad to have a few friends from the hospital. It’s not as if anyone healthy or well adjusted wanted to hang out with her. Now I know why they discourage those types of friendships post hospitalization.

Arabella told me a couple of months ago that she didn’t like being sober. She said she liked pot but when she couldn’t get that there was alcohol. She also told me when she didn’t have money she would shoplift cough medicine. I had no idea it could be so bad. I mean it wasn’t heroin, right? But that was before residential, right? Because she was supposed to go to residential and go into remission and lead a happy healthy productive life. That’s what I was telling myself anyway.

Sometimes teenagers experiment with drugs and alcohol. Alex did. He wasn’t an easy teen. There was that one kid in the neighborhood. When we found out, he wasn’t allowed over there anymore. But he lived a few houses down. It was hard to stop once it started.

But this was different. She wasn’t with a group of friends experimenting. She was alone. Was she trying to kill herself?

When we were on vacation, Arabella wanted us to buy her alcohol and weed. We didn’t. She was already on a smorgasbord of pharmaceutical medications. I honestly didn’t know she had a problem. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe I’m in denial. All I know is that since the trip she went into a downward spiral. She lost her job. I knew she would be okay if she was able to hold down a job. Now that is even gone.

The initial diagnosis also includes substance abuse. I haven’t wanted to face it. I’m certain that the dual diagnosis of borderline and bipolar has the highest suicide rates. If you add substance abuse to that, the prognosis is very poor. My daughter already has had multiple suicide attempts. I have to live with the fact that my daughter is seriously mentally ill. I could get a call any day.

It’s been especially hard because she has been more delusional than I’ve ever seen her. She sincerely believes that I’ve been starving and torturing her. It’s been making it nearly impossible for me to help her. I feel so helpless. There is nothing I can do. She hates me and has been abusive towards me. Should I tolerate that because she is mentally ill? When do I let go and take care of me? I feel so much anger and despair. I’ve lost a lot of hope and don’t see this ending well. I want a miracle. I want her to be the one that beats the odds. But what if she doesn’t? I’m so afraid of what might happen next. I’m worried sick.

Finally time for MY nervous breakdown??

/ Outrunning my demons / 4 Comments

Last Tuesday I had an appointment with my therapist. I was actually feeling pretty good. I mean, we had a diagnosis and that was going to solve everything. The puzzle pieces finally fit together and I was able to psychoanalyze my whole family.

I was still a little annoyed about my mom trying to drum up support for me by telling everyone I was ready to jump off the Kennebunk bridge. My therapist told me that my mom is giving me support in the way she wants to receive it. That resonated with me but angered me. I’m almost 50 years old and my mom has no idea how to support me yet I had somehow figured out how to support her before I was 10.

My therapist asked me if I was feeling suicidal. I told her I was angry not depressed or suicidal. Gauging how angry I am if it burns into depression then I would be pretty screwed. Later in the afternoon, I had an appointment with the eye doctor. I found that to be stressful because I hate it when people poke and prod my eyes. To make it even more stressful, the doctor who we’ve been going to over the past decade asked how the kids were doing. Boy, Arabella must’ve graduated and should be off to college by now. Yeah, I would’ve thought that too if I was you. Is she working somewhere? Yeah, she is a waitress but I don’t tell her that she most likely lost her job. Maybe she just needs to figure out what she wants to do? I finally admit Arabella has mental health issues. I try to change the subject. Yeah, my oldest daughter is getting married. Wow, you have a lot going on.

I wish I could say small talk isn’t painful but these kind of conversations happen all the time. It’s normal. My daughter graduated and people who don’t know want to know what she is doing with her life. Before all this happened she was on the honor roll college bound track. For a time I even thought by having her go to residential, she would be fine again and go off to college. Maybe if she had a diagnosis, there would be a pill that would fix her and she would go to college and everything would be fine. The denial is over now and the anger burns.

I had had enough peopling for one day. Screw it, I was going to sit in my hot tub and relax with a beer. My mom called me twice while I was trying to relax, but I didn’t answer because I was trying to relax. Her calling me multiple times a day was nothing new. She calls and calls until I call her back. I just didn’t want to deal with it.

It was a nice day so I decided to sit on my front porch with a beer before making supper. I was sitting there when my mom texted me she was trying to get a hold of me because my brother Luke was on the way to the ER. They thought he was having a stroke. WTF?? My baby brother, a stroke?? I called my mom back right away.

Simultaneously, while I was on the phone with my mom there was a commotion in the front yard. Paul told me the police might be coming. My son was skateboarding with a couple of his buddies and they decided to light up in the woods across the street. A lady walking by threatened to call the cops on a bunch of kids smoking something, somewhere they weren’t supposed to be.

Great, my brother is having a stroke and the cops are coming. I was already angry before all of this and flew into a rage. I chucked my almost full bottle of beer smashing it onto the sidewalk. I repeatedly bashed my fists against the wall. I screamed fuck so many times that it put my brother Matt’s Tourette’s to shame. I said the word more in that 5 minutes then I’ve ever probably said it my whole entire life up to that point. This was my kind of nervous breakdown. I had finally snapped.

The cops were coming and they were probably going to end up taking me away, a middle aged woman having a complete and total meltdown in her front yard. By that time, pretty much all of Alex’s buddies scattered. The dog was lapping up what was left of the beer on the sidewalk. I didn’t want him ingesting broken glass so I started cleaning it up. Not only did I feel bad about tripping over the dog the night before and he could barely walk, now he is drinking up the beer with glass shards. OMG!! I’m going to go crazy, crazier. I couldn’t take it anymore.

My mom called and said the doctors thought Luke had a migraine not a stroke. While I was on the phone with my mom Arabella kept calling her. I already told my mom not to give her money. My mom said she wasn’t going to give her money but was going to put her up in a hotel room for a couple nights. Again, I felt upset because it seemed to me that my mom was going along with her delusion we were abusing her.

The police never showed up that night. I had a talk with my son. I told him he needed to knock that shit off. Maybe that would’ve been acceptable in our old neighborhood, but not here. Don’t make an enemy of the neighbors. I don’t need the extra stress in my life right now.

Guess how much sleep I got that night?

Diagnosis

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

I told Arabella she needed to come home on Sunday to pick up her medicine. She said the psychiatric nurse changed her medication but she didn’t say what changed. I was afraid to give her all her pills, but what choice did I have?

She stopped by and said she was staying at her friend Kami’s house, but they wanted her out by Tuesday. She said because of our drama and abuse, she wouldn’t be coming back here. She said it has been wonderful living with a normal healthy family. Arabella asked us if we knew what it was like to grow up like that. Of course, Paul and I both responded that we did not. I felt hurt and rather defensive. But how could we give something we never had? We did our best. Paul asked what Kami’s family had that we don’t have. Arabella said they have food that can be eaten at any time. It always went back to that, the delusion we are starving her.

She said she would text me her diagnosis once she left. Although they didn’t do the full psychological testing yet, they gave her a diagnosis of borderline, bipolar, and schizoid personality disorder. They also listed binge eating, insomnia, alcohol and cannabis use, and child physical, sexual, and emotional abuse with a word behind the abuse listing I didn’t recognize. I looked up the word the following morning and it said that it’s was a symptom of a health condition. So basically she thinks she has been abused because she is delusional.

I felt a sense of relief that I finally had some answers. Then I took it one step further and analyzed her results. It made sense. I believe that Paul’s mom had undiagnosed borderline/bipolar with delusions. I didn’t know a lot about schizoid so I looked it up. In it I found the definition of my dad. I always thought he was depressed but I never remembered him crying once in my life, even when his mother died. This disorder is characterized by lack of affect, laziness, isolation, and an inability to form close relationships with emotional intimacy.

Then I took it one step further than that. If my dad is unable to experience emotional closeness with another person why would my mom stay? She always said she stayed because of her religious convictions but no one would blame her for leaving after what my dad did. She was always the main breadwinner, so it wasn’t that. I looked further. I think my mom has dependent personality disorder with anxiety. She can’t handle being alone even if it means staying with my dad. Regardless, she is also seeing a psychiatrist.

Needless to say, Paul and I were both raised with all of our parents experiencing mental health struggles and now we are seeing something similar in our daughter. It didn’t just pop up out of the blue. The pieces finally fit together.

I was finally starting to feel hopeful again. Then something bad happened. Angel and I noticed that our 14 year old dog was especially stiff in his back legs that day. As I was walking around the corner with an overflowing laundry basket of towels, I tripped over my dog because I couldn’t see him. He started limping and having a hard time walking. Was he going to be okay? Was anything going to be okay? I felt a tremendous amount of guilt because I caused suffering. I was back to feeling sad and upset.

Will we ever get a break?