Worry

The appointment, part 1

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My mom’s first appointment the day her POA was activated was rough. My mom was crying and begging me to be able to have Matt overnight at her house again. Due to two recent medication errors, Matt’s case manager, nurse, and I made the call to not allow Matt to stay at our parents house overnight anymore. He was, however, free to visit them between 8AM and 8PM between medication times. My mom told her doctor she was not allowed to see him at all. Her primary doctor said she would be willing to be the second signature on the POA form and gave me the form to take to her afternoon neurologist appointment.

The primary doctor said that we needed to look for a facility to take care of my mom. She said that we should look into everything before it became a crisis and it has been at crisis stage for too long now. I told the doctor my parents wanted to stay at home and refused to go. My mom was adamant that my dad was going to take care of her. She said he was loving and supportive, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. Her doctor said in her 25 years of being a doctor, she only saw two husbands that were able to care for their wives and they had large families nearby to help. Not children who lived far away and were working full-time. She said worst case scenario was that I needed to call adult protective services to have them removed from their home.

After the appointment, I dropped my mom off at home and drove an hour to close the guardianship account my parents created for my brother back in the 90’s. The rep payee account had finally come through and I needed to close the old account. Upon arriving at the bank, the teller contacted her manager stating that I wanted to close an account that wasn’t mine. The manager said absolutely not as I pulled out the guardianship paperwork. The manager had to speak to the higher ups as I sat waiting in the lobby for an hour. When they finally talked to me, they told me the original account from 1994 was not set up as a guardianship account. Although I am now the guardian, they might still need my parents to come in to sign off the account because it was listed as a joint account. At this point, I was feeling really stressed. I was trying to hold back anger and tears as I explained I lived an hour and a half away. My dad can’t walk and my mom is losing her mind. Along with becoming my brother’s guardian, my mom’s POA was most likely going to be activated that afternoon.

I didn’t know when I would be able to come back with my parents. I took the day off to deal with everything. There wasn’t much else I could do and I had to be back for my mom’s afternoon appointment. After I left, I received a call from the bank saying the higher ups approved the closing of the account. I turned around and finally closed the account.

I picked my mom up for her second appointment of the day. She was still upset with me about Matt and was now crying because she thought she was going to be committed. The doctor was running late. After waiting for another hour, we finally saw the doctor. I explained everything that was happening, how my mom was getting worse since the last appointment. The doctor seemed upset she didn’t schedule to see my mom sooner. She signed the POA forms on the spot. Then she dropped the bomb of frontotemporal dementia. Since my mom was still crying, she asked if my mom was still on anti-depressants. I thought so but I didn’t go to that appointment with her. She told me my mom needed memory care ASAP. She said being at home was a major safety concern, especially with cooking.

I asked the neurologist about genetic testing. She said that I could if I wanted to but it was a waste of time because this condition is something you don’t have any power or control over and there is no cure. My thoughts turned dark, I would do anything to not do this to my own children and spouse. But I would have no idea I was losing my mind. For several weeks, I fell into a deep dark despair. I am still grieving the loss of my mother who is still alive. I am grieving the future I thought I would have. Angel did say something that made me feel a lot better which was that they were planning on taking care of me anyway whether I was in a wheelchair or lost my mind.

Breaking up

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It happened on Saturday night a few minutes before the band went up to play. Having another commitment, I didn’t show up until the band was halfway through playing. My son played magnificently, better than I’ve ever heard him play. Afterwards, I told Alex to do whatever he did differently every time because he did an amazing job.

He said funny I should say that because right before the band started playing, his friend called to say he saw his girlfriend with another guy. Lexi ran off to the bathroom when she was caught while Alex’s friend talked to the guy. Apparently Lexi has been going out with this other guy for 4 months. We were shocked. Alex and Lexi were together over three years. She was like a part of our family, and one of Arabella’s best friends.

My son was upset over the betrayal and wanted to smash all her things. Thankfully a friend stayed with him that evening to talk him out of doing anything rash. Sunday night Alex texted to say Lexi was over to pick up her things if we wanted to say good-bye. I went over first and told Paul he should be there to make sure everything was alright. Alex was filled with rage and was screaming at Lexi. For the most part, Lexi was quiet and didn’t look at us. Sometimes she cried or yelled back. It was the worst break up we witnessed. I tried to stay out of the fighting. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but it was a little too late for that.

Lexi threw most of her things in garbage bags. Outside the drought had ended in a pouring rain. It was a blustery evening, a reflection of our emotions. Arabella came over after work, and I cautioned her that although she wanted to say bye it might not be the best thing for her. But she wanted to anyway. My stress level was through the roof. We were all in a state of sadness, grief, anger, shock, and anxiety. Arabella was crying. The fighting seemed like it would never end.

But then it did end as Lexi packed everything that was hers in her vehicle and drove away. I thought maybe she was the one. But that dream is gone and there is just an emptiness in the space she once occupied in our hearts. Arabella has been crying every day. She was a friend, a best friend who painted with her and went to the movies together. I worry about her. The day before everything happened she started going through another medication change.

Alex has been unreachable. He doesn’t want to talk to me about it beyond the anger. I worry about him. Things ended badly. It’s going to take some time to get through this. It was so unexpected. Lexi has a lot of issues, and I keep telling myself there is someone better out there for him.

Green light, red light 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Freezing to death

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s happening-November 1, 2023

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It’s hard to believe November is here already. This morning we broke down and turned on the heat. Yesterday we received our first snowfall of the season. Not the best day to go trick or treating. Not that I worry about it anymore. The kids have grown and we live in an area, although I bought candy and turned on the lights for two years in a row, no one knocks upon the door. This year I did not buy candy and instead volunteered at the cat shelter. Today I finished my yard work. For the life of me, I don’t know why I waited this long.

Yesterday I had my GI follow up appointment. Turns out I do have an ulcer. My colonoscopy results were not normal either this time and back in 2020. They are not sure what is wrong but think I might be in the early stages of ulcerative colitis. For now they put me on acid reducing medication and I have to follow up in January to do another endoscopy to see if the ulcer is gone. I know I’ve had ulcers before because I’ve had this pain several other times in my life. Once was during childhood. I pretty much quit eating because my stomach hurt so bad. My parents threatened to take me to the doctor but never did. Once was right before I did a marathon.

I’m thankful to have a vigilant doctor. Sometimes I worry that it is all in my head like the seizures I was having. I have to be less hard on myself when my body is less than perfect.

I’m planning on hunkering down and writing more starting next week. I always worry about what I am going to do once I finish my book. But life has a funny way of giving me more to write about.

distractions

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“There’s a difference between being happy and being distracted from sadness.”

I recently saw the above quote on Facebook and loved it. Lately close friends and family have been making happiness statements to me. Are you having fun? Did that make you happy? I’ll do whatever makes you happy. Would it make you happy if… It’s so good to see you smile and have fun.

I understand they want me to be happy and don’t want to see me suffer. The best I can ask for right now are distractions from sadness. The stress is really starting to get to me. It’s affecting my health. It’s wearing me down. I don’t think I can handle much more.

Happiness seems unattainable. It’s for other people. Peace and joy are glimpsed at illusions.

I have little control over the events taking place. I just want the suffering to end.

Most people don’t know what to say. That’s okay. There is really nothing anyone can do about it. I understand that.

Just be a friend. Don’t walk away. That hurts more than saying the wrong thing.

I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to play the victim. It’s just what is happening in my life. I don’t want to talk about it all the time.

But I am open to distractions…

Recently when my good friend Lisa was over it was eye opening to me. She has experienced a great level of pain and suffering. I didn’t know what to say to her. Offering up thoughts and prayers seemed absolutely meaningless. I just wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to think life is enjoyable and worth living. Maybe her suffering has some sort of purpose or meaning and she can take something bad and make it good somehow. I could feel her pain. Through my worry about the wellbeing of my friend I was able to see how others view me. I finally understood.

Solving communication issues

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t sign up for this..

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My daughter is still in jail. I think I am finally getting used to living in a constant state of uncertainty. I’m not sure when she is getting out. It could be next week. It could be a couple months.

This week Paul and I went to a support group for families who are dealing with family members with mental illness. Every single family there who has a mentally ill child Arabella’s age or older have or have had an incarcerated child. I found this to be shocking. We weren’t the only ones. Which makes me wonder how many mentally ill people are in the criminal justice system. And, how messed up is that? Because our child (and many others) is an adult, we could not get treatment for her unless she was a threat to herself or others. What a joke! And then, even if they hurt themselves or someone else, it is still hard to find treatment. Poor ratings from me for the broken mental health system.

My teenage adult daughter has been sitting in jail facing 3 felonies for the last couple weeks. Nothing new is happening with her case. She is just sitting there so she can’t come home and screw up her life some more. We got her a lawyer. We don’t want our daughter to be a convicted felon, we don’t want prison, we want mental health treatment. But her meds aren’t right. Although some are better than none, I guess. Both times she ended up in jail she was off her meds because she felt like she didn’t need them.

Talking to the other parents in the support group, I wonder if jail is just going to be a part of her life now. If it is, this will be the last time we get her a lawyer. We have spent so much money on her treatment already. Her two month stint in a residential treatment facility almost cost as much as a 4 year college. We’ve already paid the lawyer over $1,000. It isn’t fair to our other children and it isn’t fair to us because it is eating away from our retirement. Plus life goes on. We are paying her half of rent. We just found out she owes a lot of money for taxes because her online ‘modeling’ job didn’t take any money out.

I think my daughter is going to fail on probation. She is going to have to take her meds, be on time, have no contact with Will, and observe absolute sobriety. I would be a fool to think her prognosis is anything but poor. Plus, in the state she is in, she could harm herself or someone else all of which she has done before.

After she gets out of jail, Arabella is moving back home. It’s that or be homeless as she has nowhere else to go. We need to develop a safety plan because I’m not sure if I’m safe. My daughter is twice my size. She tried to strangle her boyfriend. What if she does that to me? I have to come to terms that my life could be in danger. Am I willing to risk that? I think I am prepared to die. I will probably have to keep my phone on me at all times and lock my bedroom door while I sleep at night. I will have to be aware at all times. Some of the parents in the support group got large dogs to alert and protect them.

My husband is gone a lot for work in the summer. At times he mentioned quitting his job so I’m not home alone. But I don’t want him to do that. Maybe we are worried for nothing. Maybe everything will be just fine. But we have to think about these things now. I don’t know if I will be able to call the police unless it is really bad. Growing up my mom tried to protect my autistic/schizophrenic brother at all costs. We had to protect Matt from the police when he attacked us or others. I grew up thinking calling the police was wrong. I just don’t know if I can do it. But I also think my mom didn’t handle things correctly. This has been triggering in so many ways.

I wish I could say I have been able to get it off my mind, but I can’t. If it is not front and center, it’s still percolating on the back burner. Some days are better than others. I’m starting to get used to it.

Gone

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The first indication there was something really wrong was when she came over in the middle of the night on Tuesday and knocked on our bedroom door waking us up. Arabella yelled outside the door that she needed to go to the ER. She was terrified she was starving to death. Her body was eating itself. Arabella is obese. No one in their right mind would think she was starving to death. She went to the ER. We tried to go back to sleep but didn’t have much luck.

Arabella came over very early Thursday morning because she had to tell me something. She told me that an old friend of ours who we haven’t seen in over 10 years raped her psychically while she was unconscious as a child. She could tell he was also raping his daughter (someone she never met) from looking at his Facebook pictures. She was ready to call CPS. She told her sister this and her sister said it wasn’t true and that she couldn’t ruin this nice man’s life by making false accusations.

Arabella then said that Angel was controlling everyone. Angel turned everyone against her except for the other family she moved in with for awhile. We were all deceived. But she also loves Angel because she has Stockholm Syndrome towards her. Angel could force her to laugh and smile. She could cause other people to hurt her.

Arabella told us she has Multiple Personality Disorder. She also has PTSD and when she does she has the ability to go into other people’s bodies and think their thoughts and feel their emotions. Through this she can understand other people’s lives.

Friday morning Arabella came over very early once again and excitedly stated she decoded the Bible. She understands it now. She talked animatedly about complex theological concepts sometimes hitting the mark, sometimes not so much. She said that Mary was raped. She would not allow us to speak. She said she was born again and is a new person. She didn’t feel like she was herself anymore.

Besides being out of touch with reality, I was very concerned at this point she was not sleeping or taking care of herself. She said sleep was something that mortals like me needed. My daughter was gone and there didn’t seem to be a single thing we could do about it because she is an adult. She is finally trusting me again and I was afraid any efforts on my part would break that trust and I would once again be a threat. Everything felt surreal. I can’t believe this is happening and I keep second guessing myself.

Later that afternoon, I just happened to look at my find friends to see when my husband was coming back for lunch. I noticed Arabella was at CPS. I tried to talk her out of reporting our old friend. I panicked and called their office. Angel also called their office several days before warning them that her mentally ill sister believes someone has been sexually assaulted but was not. She was also accusing other people of sexual assault whom she has never met because of her ability to go into the minds of others.

I think my daughter is schizophrenic. My brother is schizophrenic. My cousin is schizophrenic. Little did I know the worst was yet to come…

Diversion

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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.