self-harm

Safe for now

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I feel like I got my daughter back. The daughter I had before everything started. Before the suicide attempts, the cutting, sneaking out late at night to meet up with strangers, the delusions, the depression, the mania, hospitalizations, jail, and all the other struggles I’ve been writing about the past 4+ years. We are getting along better than we have before.

Everything changed once she was on the right medication. At her last hospitalization, they put her on a mega dose of the powerful anti-psychotic Haldol. The doctor has been slowly trying to taper her off the medication. In the beginning her doctor also put her on Lithium as a mood stabilizer. She has been diagnosed with Schizoaffective Disorder which is a mix of schizophrenia and bipolar. After several months, her doctor tried to take her off of Lithium thinking an anti-psychotic would be enough to manage her symptoms. After a week off of Lithium, she started to hear voices telling her to kill herself. Thankfully she communicated what was happening to her with me. I called the doctor’s office and they put her back on Lithium. Once again she was stable.

At the last appointment, the doctor tried to reduce her Haldol. He wants her off of the medication altogether. I asked the doctor if the hospital made a mistake by putting her on Haldol in the first place. He said when Arabella was admitted to the hospital she was very, very psychotic. If a psychiatrist says that it must mean a lot more than usual. They had her on ten times the average dose. That’s why when we visited her in the hospital, we were traumatized to see her because she was shaking and couldn’t talk right. Her jaw was tremoring and her words were slurred. They put her on another medication for side effects of Haldol and that caused her to have vision changes.

At the last appointment, the doctor tried to taper Arabella down to a high dose within the normal range. She didn’t respond well. She started to have intrusive violent thoughts. He decided to put her back on her dose previous to her last appointment. And once again, she is stable and enjoyable to be around. If it was up to me right now, I would like to keep her on the medication she is on now for the rest of her life. But the doctor said that after being on Haldol long term she will very likely have irreversible side effects similar to the ones she had before on the mega high dose. By age 30, the medication that is saving her now will cause her to be physically disabled by her condition.

Is it worth it? We might not have another choice. The doctor said it’s going to be a very long process to get her where she needs to be. But as for right now, it’s wonderful to have my daughter back.

Mental health awareness month

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Many of you are probably aware that May is mental health awareness month. Maybe you already shared the cutesy memes on social media stating you are a friend that anyone can call day or night. Maybe that is enough for you to feel good to check off your awareness month, and have moved on to planning your pride party for June. Or maybe you also live in Wisconsin and are stocking up on cheese curds for June dairy month. I know, I know…cheesy..

Or maybe you are like me and found out that mental illness is not all that cute. Maybe you or your loved one has already lost the friend that you can call anytime. Mental illness is tough. I’m sure everyone who struggles with it would remove that part of their life if they had the choice. It’s so painful and malignant, that far too many remove themselves from life altogether when it refuses to leave them.

Through NAMI, and talking with other parents whose children struggle with mental illness, I was surprised to find some striking similarities. I am not the only parent whose child attempted suicide. I am not the only parent whose child was incarcerated after a psychotic episode. I am not the only parent whose child, after making abuse allegations, moved in with another family. I am not the only parent whose child hears voices commanding them to end their life and soothing voices telling them how peaceful death is. I am not the only parent whose child has lost a lot of good friends because of their mental illness. I am not the only parent whose child was bullied because they are different.

I could make a much longer list. But the point here is awareness. Don’t blame the family. Don’t blame the mentally ill. Most would choose to change it if they could. Don’t shun them out of ignorance or fear. Treat them as if they have a potentially life threatening form of cancer. Treat them with compassion while being mindful of your own mental health as well.

Be kind to the server who has cutting scars all over her arms. For today, she has successfully battled the voices in her head. She has battled the voices outside her head sending similar messages about her worth. She has many battle wounds but is still alive fighting. That girl is also my daughter. But she could be your daughter as well. Or your son, sibling, parent, partner, neighbor, friend, or yourself.

Be aware that one in five Americans struggle with mental illness.

Diversion

/ Outrunning my demons / 4 Comments

My daughter was offered a diversion program that would dismiss her criminal charges if she complies with the program. She was charged with 3 misdemeanors. Compliance with the program includes 6 months of absolute sobriety, random drug tests, 20 hours of community service, staying out of trouble, meeting with the program director, and following all doctor’s orders regarding mental health treatment. If there is a positive drug test, she would have to go to an AODA treatment program.

Today my daughter decided to opt out of the program even though we told her multiple times it would be in her best interest to take it. She wants to get a public defender and face her charges. What she doesn’t seem to understand is that if she faces her charges and is convicted, she will have a criminal record where she will have a hard time in the future finding employment and housing. If found guilty, she will most likely face a hefty fine. She may go back to jail. If on probation, she will probably face years of absolute sobriety. If she doesn’t comply, it will most likely be jail time versus a treatment program. My daughter is addicted to weed and says it stops her from self-harming. In all of our neighboring states, she probably could get a prescription for it but not ours. Six months seems like a short time compared to all of that.

Arabella still wants to sue the police and bring down the whole police department for how they treated her in jail. They restrained her in a chair. Before her arrest she was self-harming, physically assaulted her boyfriend, and was making suicidal threats. The police put her on suicide watch and bruised her arms while trying to restrain her. So far no lawyer has wanted to take on her case. I’m not surprised, nor am I paying for a lawyer for something she has no chance of winning. She says she has PTSD and needs treatment because she was never treated worse in her whole entire life. I personally didn’t think it was the worst thing to happen because I want her to be afraid to go back to jail. It’s not a nice place. The only complaint I have is that they wouldn’t allow her to take her medication and that all got messed up while in jail which probably didn’t help.

Arabella also admitted on a recorded line to me that she beat up her boyfriend. I sure as hell hope I don’t have to testify against my own daughter. Her boyfriend wasn’t innocent in this either and is facing a felony and misdemeanor. But he opted to take the diversion program.

My daughter has been spiraling since her and her boyfriend broke up. One night she showed up late wanting to move some stuff back home. My husband and daughter got into a fight about her moving back home since my husband does not agree with some of her destructive life choices. I’m not going to get into that right now. Let’s just say there have been a lot of sleepless nights as of late and it is running me down physically. I’ve been on antibiotics the last couple days and I’m still not feeling good. It’s hard to think right now so I hope this isn’t just one big jumbled up mess.

We don’t want our daughter to move back home. I’m afraid of what is going to happen to me, to us. It was so hard to go through the first time. But we weren’t expecting it then. We feel like we have to at least try to help her.

One week after the police came over from the bogus call someone made on my son’s roommate, I got a call repeatedly from an unknown number. After a couple calls, I decided to answer it. The police were calling. A call from the police is not a good sign. Once again my daughter was on suicide watch and wanted a ride to her friend’s house. Paul and I were disagreeing about what to do. Paul wanted to bring her home and I wanted her to go to her friend’s house. I was almost ready for bed and I wasn’t going to be staying up with her all night but her friend would because they all tend to stay up all night and sleep all day. My husband picked her up and took her to her friend’s so she wasn’t alone for the next 24 hours. This all happened during a snowstorm with really bad road conditions. Because, why not?? At least it gave Paul and Arabella a chance to talk about their fight.

I am very sad my daughter decided not to take the diversion program despite all the advice to the contrary. I don’t know what is going to happen to her now. I don’t foresee this ending well. It is incredibly stressful and I don’t have any control over what she does because she is an adult. I just have a front show seat to a show I don’t really want to go to. I don’t ever see it changing either. It’s been really hard to handle. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t sign up for this. I’m fearful with every phone call and ring of the doorbell. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

Doing time

/ Outrunning my demons / 5 Comments

It’s been a very long and stressful weekend. My daughter ended up getting arrested. It was bad timing because I had to work a trade show all weekend. But when is it ever a good time to have a child arrested??

My husband was supposed to work the trade show with me but had a conflict. He had an ice fishing trip planned before we knew the dates of the trade show. My husband has been going with the same group of guys for the past 10 to 15 years. I told him to go ahead, that I could handle the trade show with the help of James our previous employee who still works for the business we sold. He does some very part-time work for us with our new business.

Paul left early Thursday morning. The day started out fine. I ended up getting my nails done and visiting my daughter Angel for supper. After lunch it started snowing and we ended up getting more snow than was predicted. The roads were very slippery. My son ended up getting called in to work. He wasn’t home when I went to bed that night, nor was he back home at 4 in the morning when I got up to go to the bathroom. I checked my phone just in case my son texted since at that time he would’ve been working 12 hours and I thought he would be home. When I checked my phone, I noticed a missed call and multiple texts from Arabella. She said that her and Will got in a fight and she wanted to move back home. It was hard to go back to sleep after that.

I tried calling my daughter in the morning but she was sleeping and didn’t answer. I decided to go outside and start shoveling. We have a huge driveway and my husband took the 4-wheeler we use to plow the driveway. I was pretty annoyed at this point. I didn’t sleep well. I wasn’t expecting to have to worry about the driveway and my daughter. And I didn’t want to go to the trade show. Trade shows aren’t really my thing. I’m not a people person. Talking to people and selling a product to me is a form of torture.

Ten minutes before the trade show started I got a text from my daughter saying that her boyfriend and her were fighting again and she called 911. After an hour, they both were carted off to jail. Meanwhile, I was at the trade show having to smile and pretend everything was okay. Clients asked how my kids were doing. Great, just great! Smile, smile, smile. It was miserable.

The next morning my daughter called from jail. She had about 3 minutes on a recorded line. She basically told me that her and Will got into a fight. She left for awhile. When she came back, he had another girl with him at the apartment. She flipped out and beat him up. She weighs around 100 lbs. more than he does. In the process she got a black eye and bruised face. They both got arrested. She was charged with 3 misdemeanors, one being battery. He was charged with a misdemeanor and a felony. I was really worried because she admitted to what she did wrong on a recorded call. I didn’t have much time to think about it because I was off to a 10 hour day at the trade show.

The night before I talked to Paul and my other kids until 2 AM about what happened. I didn’t sleep well and was really exhausted. Paul was really upset and was going to cancel the rest of his trip. We were debating about bailing our daughter out. I convinced Paul we should continue on with our plans. The main feelings we felt were sadness and anger. Anger at Will and our daughter for getting physical in their fight. Sadness that the relationship they had was now over. Most people were angry with Will. But we didn’t think he deserved a felony. My daughter was at least 50% of the problem. It was very hard to see her mug shot.

Saturday was an exhausting day. Sunday was not much better. I was having insomnia and nightmares. At least it was going to be a shorter day at the trade show and Paul was coming home. Thankfully this morning we had an appointment with our couples counselor. I was worried about a lot of things. I was worried about my daughter’s pets in her apartment. They didn’t give her any of her medications at jail. She was off her meds for 5 days. We are leaving on vacation on Wednesday. Should we still go? The make matters worse, we are expecting a blizzard on Wednesday. My daughter had her hearing today. Would we bail her out or leave her in jail while we are gone? Did we need to get a lawyer? What was going to happen next? Could I get her key to check on her pets? Could I get her meds to her? One medication she wasn’t supposed to stop abruptly.

I felt like I had to put all my feelings on a shelf over the weekend. But maybe that was a good thing. The trade show was very distracting. Every evening James and I went out afterwards for drinks. I ran into some friends of mine which was nice. I didn’t have time to worry as much as I would’ve sitting home alone.

Right after we got out of our appointment with the counselor, we got a call from Arabella that both her and Will were out of jail. If they do certain things, their charges will be dismissed. They went back to their apartment. We sat down and talked to them for an hour to see if they would be safe. We came up with a safety plan. There was relief in knowing we didn’t have to make some hard choices such as if we needed to bail her out or keep her in jail while we were gone.

I was worried my daughter would be suicidal. She was on suicide watch at jail. Apparently they stripped her down and strapped her to a chair. In doing so they bruised up her arms. Her body was a big massive bruise. She was also self-harming in this whole process. Will said Arabella was banging her head against the wall and burning herself. He was trying to stop her. I was worried they might be suicidal or harm each other again. If they do, they will both be in jail for awhile.

I’ve come to the conclusion that this is the way my life is going to be. There will always be problems it will be hard to catch a break from. We are still planning on going on our trip. We might have to leave a day early because of the blizzard to make the drive down to Chicago to catch our flight. There is not much I can do right now. My daughter is an adult and my hands are tied. I don’t have much control over what happens or winter storms. But as of right now I think everything is okay and that is all I can ask for.

Now snakes too!

/ Outrunning my demons / 2 Comments

I am hosting a grad party for Arabella this weekend in two days. Two days! I just spent the morning cleaning the house and spent 5 hours this week weeding. I think there is going to be a point where it is just going to have to be good enough. That’s the thing about weeding. Everyone notices if you don’t do it but no one really realizes how tedious of a chore it is if you do.

I’m feeling a little stressed about the party. All of my closest friends will not be able to attend. My best friend has the funeral of her uncle/godfather out of town. Most of the other people that are coming haven’t seen my daughter since before COVID. So in other words, before she really started to struggle with mental health issues.

There are two questions I am dreading. The first one is why isn’t your dad at the party. I can only hope no one notices since he wasn’t the most involved before. I am sure I am going to have at least one person ask me that though. I’m not much of a liar. Perhaps I should say that my dad is a pedophile and was not invited. Maybe I should just say that he is sick. But then they might think he has COVID since I’ve been having a lot of questions about that as well. What are my chances of getting the Delta variant if I come to the party? Will there be any of those unvaccinated people there? Really, how should I know who is vaccinated or not?? I’m not going to be checking vaccine cards at the door. I told those people to make whatever choice they feel most comfortable with.

The second question might even be harder. Arabella has extensive cutting scars on her arm. Almost everyone coming has not seen her since before COVID meaning that they are not used to seeing her wounds. Now she could cover her arms but she probably won’t. She recently got a semicolon tattoo on her wrist. It’s really quite moving that she wants to be authentic and remove the stigma of keeping mental health issues and suicide attempts hush hush. She can’t undo the scars. Is she supposed to spend the rest of her life covering it up? She is not ashamed of her struggles, but her arms are a painful reminder of what she and all of us went through. I have mixed feelings about whether she should cover them or not but it is not my decision to make. I should probably warn her about comments though.

I’m sure I will get questions about it that I don’t want to answer. I can pretty much guarantee that my niece Gracie will say something blunt and rude. Right now I am happy that my daughter is still alive. But I am afraid of the comments she might get because her arms are really shocking. She also cut up her legs but you can’t really see that unless she wears a swimming suit. Plus she grew a couple more cups sizes since residential so her appearance is very attention grabbing.

Also, today my mom is getting a heart monitor. Her anxiety medicine is giving her tachycardia so she has to wear the monitor for 2 weeks. She is going to love all the attention she gets at the party. Tomorrow is her birthday and she wants us to take her sailing. I thought having the party the weekend of her birthday would be a good opportunity to get together with my brothers for her birthday. But the only brother able to go is Matt and he is disabled and has a hard time getting around. My mom is also afraid of water but she wants to go. It is supposed to rain and she can’t get the heart monitor wet. We’ll see how it all goes. It really couldn’t be worse timing since I have so much to do for the party.

I really hope the party goes well. I am a little worried about it. Well, I better get back outside to do more weeding. It’s kind of funny because yesterday after weeding my husband saw a rather large snake by a bush I just put my hands under to grab weeds. As if I don’t have enough to worry about. Now snakes!!

Residential care

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The first couple of weeks at residential were really rough. I was afraid that Arabella was going to get kicked out of the program. They told us while she was on the waiting list if she did any self-harm, such as banging her head against the wall like she did at her second inpatient stay, they would release her. She knew that because she was part of that conversation. She hated it there at first. She didn’t have any friends. They purposefully kept her alone to increase her tolerance in a safe environment.

We received nightly calls from her which were not always good. She begged us to send her expensive gifts overlooking the cost of treatment. She bragged about her arguments with staff and how she broke the rules. They had a hard time waking her up in the morning like we did. It wasn’t going well because she didn’t want to be there. She argued with us and hung up on us on multiple occasions. I was always waiting for a call that we should come pick her up and there was nothing they could do for her.

The first call from the therapist was rough because she said that Arabella made allegations of abuse against us which they had to report to social services. Nice! What were they going to do anyway? Take her away? I jokingly said to my husband that maybe then the county would pay for her residential treatment. But nothing ever happened.

Arabella caught on fast, but she couldn’t focus. She was easily distracted which lead to a diagnosis of ADHD. She improved greatly in the program after she was treated for this. I felt like this was a turning point in her treatment. She wanted to be there after that and wanted to get better. She could finally focus on studying and new hobbies.

Some other strange things happened while she was there. Arabella went into a dissociative state and freaked out scaring other patients. She didn’t know who she was or where she was. In this dissociative state, Arabella ate plastic which prompted more testing for pica. Dissociation can be a symptom of borderline. After this she had every single diagnostic characteristic of borderline. I wondered if this had anything to do with her eating nonfood items before. I was completely puzzled.

Before this I did not know she experienced dissociative episodes. She admitted to dissociating in the shower. She also said that she had episodes in her room where she looked down at herself and thought that she was a very bad person that didn’t deserve to live or a very good person. I found it very hard to understand and didn’t even know it was possible or likely without experiencing major trauma.

After the treatment for ADHD and after her dissociative episode ended, there was a time of tremendous growth. She started working on learning and applying skills. I guess what I’m trying to say is that we were very fearful at first about whether or not this treatment was going to work. We had a lot invested in it and not just financially. I think our fear in early treatment was normal, we just didn’t know what to expect.

I think the residential DBT program was a lifesaver. It gave her (and us) more tools to work on some of her mental health issues she was struggling with. But we were also worried about how things were going to be when she got home. Would the skills carry over? Would she be able to live independently or would she need lifetime care? Again, we just didn’t know what to expect in recovery.

Residential waiting list

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We received the call that Arabella’s name came up on the waiting list for the DBT residential program for adolescent girls. We had less than a week to get everything together. She had to be there within a certain time period or she would lose her place. This was her last opportunity since they said she could not be there after turning 18. She was less than 3 months until 18 which meant by the time she came up on the waiting list again, she would be too old for the program.

She abruptly ended her time with the outpatient program that she was in for 2 months. I had to switch a dentist appointment around last minute. Thankfully they were able to sneak her in earlier with short notice. The residential program needed her dental records. We ended up getting all of the paperwork together and appointments done as soon as we possibly could. It was months of wait, wait, wait then boom hurry as fast as you could to get everything together. Plus I had to work with the insurance company which was pretty much a waste of my time. We ended up paying for everything out of pocket which wasn’t cheap. We emptied Arabella’s college fund. She wasn’t interested in college anyway. Without residential we honestly didn’t know if she would live that long anyway. This was our last ditch effort to save her life.

To make matters far more stressful, we also had a COVID scare within that time period. My daughter Angel’s boyfriend Dan tested positive then my daughter got sick with COVID as well. Once we found out he was sick, my daughter stayed with him at his parent’s house and didn’t come back home until she was better. It was a matter of life and death. If Arabella couldn’t go into the program because of a positive test I feared she would die. It was horrible and terrifying. FYI admitting your child into an inpatient, outpatient, or residential program is stressful and crappy as it is without the extra stress.

They ask questions such as how many suicide attempts have you made and when was the last one. My daughter answered that many times she cut herself so deeply that she was hoping not to wake up in the morning. They ask so many disturbing personal questions that no parent wants to hear the answer to. I suffered greatly the first time I saw the cutting on her arm. I had nightmares for days when I could sleep that is. It was very traumatic for me.

Thankfully Arabella’s COVID test came back negative and we all remained healthy at our house. I do think that the residential program has helped Arabella tremendously learn the skills that are needed to live a healthy and productive emotionally regulated life. We, as her parents, worked very closely with her therapist and the psychiatrist. We received a DBT parent workbook and listened to podcasts. It didn’t cure her. She is still taking plenty of medications. It was a very rewarding experience except for the cost. But as the saying goes…you get what you pay for.

Arabella was in the residential program for a little over 2 months. I’ve noticed a lot of improvements since she got back. It was worth it to give her a second chance at life. Now it is up to her what happens next. We did everything we could.

Carrying a heavy weight

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She gained 13 lbs. in a month.

Arabella wasn’t on any medications that could cause weight gain. She also went through periods of restricted eating. This really didn’t concern me as much because at the time she was easily over 250 lbs. I was more concerned about diabetes and other health related issues. She wasn’t eating meals with us anymore. I would tell her it was time to eat only to find her eating a bag of Oreos in her room. She only wanted junk food.

It struck a painful chord in me. I show I care about my family by doing nice things for them such as their laundry or cooking nice meals. It was triggering of childhood memories of my own mom working hard to cook nice meals only to have my dad ask her what kind of dog shit she made for supper. I feel hurt and unappreciated when my efforts are scorned. It takes a lot of work to cook supper and make healthy homemade meals for a family of 5 or 6. It makes me angry when my cooking is replaced by a cheap sugary substitute.

My dad also struggles with obesity and unhealthy eating. He does not exercise and now can barely walk. I saw how he struggles with his weight and I don’t want that for my daughter. Not only that but it is hard to care for someone who is elderly and prone to falls. He is over 300 lbs. and there is no way I could lift him.

What was even more concerning besides her obesity and binge eating of junk was that she started to eat non food items as well. She ate woodchips. She cut up a Capri Sun pouch and ate that. She ate paper and several plastic forks. What if that was to tear up her intestines? To me it seemed like a whole new way to self-harm. The doctors were puzzled by it as well. They ran all sorts of blood work but nothing could be determined what was causing her pica. Was it some strange side effect to her medication? Was it for attention?

One of the hardest things was that I didn’t have any control over it. She was twice my size. Although I could share with her my experience with healthy eating and exercise, she wanted nothing to do with it. In fact, to this day I am not allowed to talk about it.

While she was in residential, Arabella still went through periods of eating paper and plastic silverware. Again, more tests were run and not surprisingly nothing was found. The best anyone could tell me was that she should take a multi-vitamin because she wasn’t getting any nutrients from what she was eating. Things haven’t really gotten much better since she came home. Her meals consist of chips, candy, cookies, and sugary foods. I can’t stand it really. I don’t know what to do about it. If I talk to her about it she gets angry with me. She tells me that I don’t understand and quite frankly I don’t.

I won’t take her shopping because she fills my cart with junk. I don’t mind buying some snacks, but I don’t want to fill my cart with them. When she has money, she buys her own snacks. It was hard when she worked at the grocery store because she would spend her paycheck there. It didn’t matter if she didn’t have money. Sometimes her friends would be her junk food junkies and bring her a new stash.

The therapist said that I shouldn’t be nagging her about it because it would cause her to feel shame which would cause more stress eating which would cause a perpetual shame cycle. Instead she should feel natural consequences, such as diabetes. Who wants their teenager to struggle with body image and health concerns due to obesity in a society that pressures women especially young women to look a certain way? I am in my 40’s and I still feel the pressure to look a certain way. It’s not as bad as when I was a teenager, but still.

My intention is not to fat shame my daughter. It’s hard to talk about because I’ve never really struggled a lot with my own weight. But it’s a big problem and I’m not sure she is going to be able to fix it. It’s going to have to be another thing I have to let go because there is nothing I can do about it. When I do try to help I only seem to make things worse.

Sometimes it’s really hard to let my adult children go and watch them struggle.