schizoaffective

Hanging on

/ Outrunning my demons / 4 Comments

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

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

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.

change the system

/ Outrunning my demons / 4 Comments

My daughter is going back to jail today. Trying to get her treatment was a big waste of time. They did change up her medicine a bit. They gave her something to calm her, help her sleep, and for PTSD. I want to know what gave her the diagnosis of PTSD. What trauma??

I called and called the treatment center. Sometimes no one answered the call. One time the nurse said I needed to talk to the therapist. I left several messages with the therapist. The only time she called me back was to tell me my daughter was being released. Apparently she is the only therapist for the whole ward. I asked to speak to a doctor but was told they were too busy because this was their third job. They barely had 5 minutes to talk to patients. From that 5 minutes, they allegedly gathered more information than the patients family who spent a lifetime with them.

Yesterday I finally found a nurse who was willing to listen. I told her my daughter was having delusions. The nurse said Arabella did not report having delusions. I told the nurse my daughter is not aware she is delusional. I told her my daughter is in jail for felonies relating to having delusions. I told her my daughter is suicidal because she made comments of life not being worth living once she is released. I told her I am afraid Arabella will kill herself or hurt someone else from the delusions she is having. I was feeling very hopeful after our conversation.

Then the case manager called and dashed every hope I had. I had plans yesterday afternoon which I was late to because of having to take her call. She said the likelihood of Arabella getting into a group home is virtually impossible. Even if I sell my soul and offer up my firstborn. She said I should look into a residential treatment facility. We decided we are not going to pay for that again. She gave me other numbers to call but said they probably wouldn’t talk to me because my daughter is an adult. She said my daughter will be released tomorrow. They think she is just trying to stay to get out of jail.

I am absolutely livid. The mental health system in the US is one big fucking joke. No wonder why there is so much violence. If only we had a system focused on suicide/homicide prevention and the treatment of mental illness!! My hands are tied. I’ve done everything I could do and it wasn’t enough. I’ll just watch as my daughter hurts herself or someone else.

I have lost all hope and faith in the system. I don’t have a lot of faith or hope left in anything. It takes a lot of courage to continue when everything I do seems pointless.

I just got home from taking my daughter back to jail. It’s very upsetting that she did not get the treatment she needs. Arabella said the therapist only talked to her for 5 minutes and only to ask her why she was in jail. The facility is very understaffed. Even Arabella felt she did not get the treatment she needed. She wanted help as much as we wanted help for her. On the way back to jail, I stopped at the gas station to get her pizza and soda. She won’t be home for Mother’s Day. They will be putting her back into isolation for the next 10 days. She will be spending her 20th birthday in jail in a cell by herself for 23 hours of the day. Something must be done to fix the broken mental health system. Stop the senseless loss of life. I am so pissed and motivated to fight the system and advocate for mental health reform. I had no idea how bad things are. But now that I know, something must be done.

treatment

/ Outrunning my demons / 4 Comments

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.