I haven't heard from Hailey since Friday night. It's Sunday afternoon (Father's Day), my text's go unanswered (her phone is probably dead) and it's beginning to weigh heavily on me. After she saw her psych last week I asked her to stay home for awhile. She agreed she would, but that only lasted a day. The next day she was very irritable and wanted to leave. I know better that to try to convince her to stick around, so I just asked her to stay in touch and to stay safe. She came home again on Thursday, but by Friday afternoon (I was an hour away taking a final) she was gone again. The last text I received from her let me know that she was out of smokes and was walking into town to bum cigarettes from someone at a local bar - bad combo! I messaged her back and told her I could pick her up in town in about a half hour, she told me to not worry...that was the last I heard.
Hubby had a long talk with her psych too. He said it's time to start playing hardball with Hales. He said, "Yes, she does have BP, but a lot of her behavior is learned. Plenty of people function well with BP. They have jobs and relationships that are virtually normal, it's when they have a flare that you notice they are sick. Hailey is bipolar, but she also has no drive to get better". I've always maintained that Hailey needed to "buy into" her diagnosis. It doesn't need to "define" her (on the contrary, I'd be unhappy if she became one of those people who make their disease a calling card) but she does need to actively engage in her treatment and seek health. Hailey has no desire to change. Sad...but true. She gets what she needs in a parasitic fashion and is happy living at that level. Happy is probably not the right word to use...Hailey just survives. She has nothing in her live that drives her, no passions (except her art, which comes and goes) and nothing to "live" for . Maybe this is why she goes from place to place, situation to situation and always ends up using again?
I wish I could say there was a way to motivate my daughter. I wish I could take a "hard line" and "force" her to get better, to do everything I know is necessary to become healthy. But the fact of the matter is, you can never force someone to change. Real change has to be voluntary or else it's phony. I'm not willing to use any precious effort of pressuring someone who doesn't really want what I want.
So where does this leave us?
Where we always are...waiting. Waiting for the knock on the door, waiting for her to return cycling or psychotic, waiting for...the unknown. Which is the hardest thing to wait for. I've been fighting the "worst case scenario" thought for so many years now. I struggle the most late at night when I'm trying to sleep. My vivid imagination gets going and I can almost hear the knock on the door, see the officers standing on the porch, feel the blood drain from my face, knowing that, after all these years, it's finally happened...she's gone, for good. In my humble experience, I know that this is unlikely. BP'ers have an uncanny knack of keeping themselves alive. They are charming intelligent people who are generally liked by those around them (those who don't have to pick up the pieces!) For this reason alone, I know I shouldn't worry...good luck with that.
Hopefully she'll call soon...
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Life has been way too complicated to blog, yet that's what I should have been doing. After months of progress Hailey has hit a bump. She's been very med compliant, gone to all of her doctors appointments, addressed the legal problems that were looming (she did spend one night in jail on an outstanding warrant in February) and then Spring came. If you're familiar with BP you know that changes in weather can mean a change in mood. Hailey was able to put some pieces together and realize that she's always, "gotten arrested or taken off" during May or June. About a month ago we started to see some problems with sleeping (BP'ers really need a solid 8 hours of sleep or trouble is brewing!). Instead of addressing the problem with her psych, she took off to a friends house...and stayed. So, for quite a few weeks now her med compliance has been iffy, sleep has been non-existent and she's started drinking...heavily. Normally I'd be drowning in worry, but there's been one huge plus, she's kept in touch. The pattern is, usually, that she goes off the skids and we don't see or hear from her in months - until things get so horrible that she's in danger. This time she's talking! Huge Progress! When she's not with us she texts or Facebooks me regularly. It's such a difference to be fearful and know where she is and to be terrified because I know she's in trouble, but don't know where she is or how to get to her.
So now we have a plan. We contacted her psych and counselor today and they both agree that fast action is needed. Luckily she had a psych appointment today and came away with a script for a sleeping pill and an order for drug levels to be drawn - the proof is in the trough level! We'll see if we can't get her some sleep and find out if she's been taking the meds with any regularity. Another huge plus is the fact that she's on probation. Normally, any experience we've had with the justice system has been horribly negative. Our system does NOT know how to deal with the mentally ill. The usual punishment/fine/jail time doesn't work when you're dealing with a person that DOES NOT learn from their mistakes. The whole problem with BP is impulsive behavior. When you're compelled to do something, and because of faulty brain chemistry, don't understand (at least while you're in the moment) that your actions will cause great harm, how will throwing a fine at you, or placing you in jail teach you anything? Our courts need to use different methods for dealing with people who have an MI and that change needs to start with empathy...ok, off my soapbox! So, this time we're using the court to get what we want. Because she technically breaks her probation if she doesn't comply with her care plan, we're employing the carrot and stick. Go to your doctor/counselor appointments and life is fine, blow them off and stop taking meds and out comes the stick. The nice part is that it's out of our hands. The court will kick in and bring the stick out! For once, we're not the bad guys.
All in all, Hailey is becoming more aware. I never though I'd be typing that back in September!
So now we have a plan. We contacted her psych and counselor today and they both agree that fast action is needed. Luckily she had a psych appointment today and came away with a script for a sleeping pill and an order for drug levels to be drawn - the proof is in the trough level! We'll see if we can't get her some sleep and find out if she's been taking the meds with any regularity. Another huge plus is the fact that she's on probation. Normally, any experience we've had with the justice system has been horribly negative. Our system does NOT know how to deal with the mentally ill. The usual punishment/fine/jail time doesn't work when you're dealing with a person that DOES NOT learn from their mistakes. The whole problem with BP is impulsive behavior. When you're compelled to do something, and because of faulty brain chemistry, don't understand (at least while you're in the moment) that your actions will cause great harm, how will throwing a fine at you, or placing you in jail teach you anything? Our courts need to use different methods for dealing with people who have an MI and that change needs to start with empathy...ok, off my soapbox! So, this time we're using the court to get what we want. Because she technically breaks her probation if she doesn't comply with her care plan, we're employing the carrot and stick. Go to your doctor/counselor appointments and life is fine, blow them off and stop taking meds and out comes the stick. The nice part is that it's out of our hands. The court will kick in and bring the stick out! For once, we're not the bad guys.
All in all, Hailey is becoming more aware. I never though I'd be typing that back in September!
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Still in the hospital with the beginnings of a new diagnosis
I remember 13 days ago when Hailey called and said she would go to a homeless shelter if we would get her a bus ticket. I was so determined to take a hard line. So tired of being used. I figured that all the abuse had to end somewhere. We were convinced that it would be hard, but we could do it! Then she stepped off the bus...
Here we are 13 days, 3 different drugs and 2 court hearings later. Tough love has gone out the window and we now feel that we are battling for our daughters sanity. The drugs they've tried have been almost useless. In fact, she has even had to continue her antibiotic for her UTI because, it too, has not worked.
Her doc has not wanted to call this anything besides "psychosis. not otherwise specified", but the staff has been more forthcoming that they think Hailey is schizophrenic. Because I have some experience with this condition (grandma on moms side had it), I tend to think that they're right. What a long road she's in for...and us too. I can't imagine how it must feel to think, see, and hear all that's going on in her head. My poor daughter!
More than anything, this experience has made me want to leave the comfort of my own little life and get involved. I've been a member of NAMI for about a year, but now it's time to do more!
Here we are 13 days, 3 different drugs and 2 court hearings later. Tough love has gone out the window and we now feel that we are battling for our daughters sanity. The drugs they've tried have been almost useless. In fact, she has even had to continue her antibiotic for her UTI because, it too, has not worked.
Her doc has not wanted to call this anything besides "psychosis. not otherwise specified", but the staff has been more forthcoming that they think Hailey is schizophrenic. Because I have some experience with this condition (grandma on moms side had it), I tend to think that they're right. What a long road she's in for...and us too. I can't imagine how it must feel to think, see, and hear all that's going on in her head. My poor daughter!
More than anything, this experience has made me want to leave the comfort of my own little life and get involved. I've been a member of NAMI for about a year, but now it's time to do more!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
How many times can you say, "I was wrong"
I was so wrong. This is not what I thought. Not more of the same. Not, "Here we go again". This time we stepped into uncharted territory.
The beautiful, messed up daughter I know so well was not waiting for me at the bus station. Instead the young girl waiting was something foreign...and so scary.
What I was prepared to say and do was thrown out the window and instead, we went into panic mode. Hailey was skinny, dirty and stinky - all things that can be easily fixed. But what was most concerning was what she was saying and how she was acting. I'd seen Hailey high before. I know the signs of drug and alcohol intoxication...this was something vastly different. All the strange talk we had been experiencing from her phone calls home started to become much more than eccentricity. Hailey has always been way too smart for her own good. She's always been a conspiracy theorist. She's taken great pleasure in looking at the extreme angle of things. But what we saw coming off the bus was the dark side of what used to be "fun" conversation. Hailey really believed that she'd been talking to aliens. She was convinced there were RFD chips in everything and she was being watched carefully by "them". The hardest part was her absolute certainty that we knew all about her concerns and were okay with it all.
Because we knew it would take a miracle to get her into the psych ward, we decided to take Hailey out for breakfast. We were hoping we could get her talking and that we'd get her to say something that would qualify for involuntary commitment. Our Dr. neighbor let us know that a threat to either hurt yourself or someone else is almost the only way to get your loved one help. We also wanted her to talk more in an effort to have more "ammo" to tell the doctor. Luckily, Hailey was also in pain. What turned out to be a UTI was our ticket to the ER. She was hurting and did admit that she was feeling bad emotionally, so the door opened and we PUSHED!
After a pelvic exam, Blood tox, urine tox, visit with a case worker, visit with the county mental health professional - a total of 11 hours later - we were told Hailey would be staying - whether she wanted to or not! Success! Hailey was going to get help! After spending 11 concentrated hours with our daughter, in a little room, with nothing to do but talk, Mike and I went from scared to terrified. Hailey was truly unhinged. She was so afraid for herself, so convinced the nurses were talking about her, totally sure that the antibiotics she needed were poison. Nothing we could say would ease her fears. She said over and over again, "can you hear what they're saying, can you see what they really are, can't you see them change in front of you?" As soon as the doors to the psych ward closed behind her, Mike and I breathed a sigh of relief...finally...she was gonna be okay...maybe.
The beautiful, messed up daughter I know so well was not waiting for me at the bus station. Instead the young girl waiting was something foreign...and so scary.
What I was prepared to say and do was thrown out the window and instead, we went into panic mode. Hailey was skinny, dirty and stinky - all things that can be easily fixed. But what was most concerning was what she was saying and how she was acting. I'd seen Hailey high before. I know the signs of drug and alcohol intoxication...this was something vastly different. All the strange talk we had been experiencing from her phone calls home started to become much more than eccentricity. Hailey has always been way too smart for her own good. She's always been a conspiracy theorist. She's taken great pleasure in looking at the extreme angle of things. But what we saw coming off the bus was the dark side of what used to be "fun" conversation. Hailey really believed that she'd been talking to aliens. She was convinced there were RFD chips in everything and she was being watched carefully by "them". The hardest part was her absolute certainty that we knew all about her concerns and were okay with it all.
Because we knew it would take a miracle to get her into the psych ward, we decided to take Hailey out for breakfast. We were hoping we could get her talking and that we'd get her to say something that would qualify for involuntary commitment. Our Dr. neighbor let us know that a threat to either hurt yourself or someone else is almost the only way to get your loved one help. We also wanted her to talk more in an effort to have more "ammo" to tell the doctor. Luckily, Hailey was also in pain. What turned out to be a UTI was our ticket to the ER. She was hurting and did admit that she was feeling bad emotionally, so the door opened and we PUSHED!
After a pelvic exam, Blood tox, urine tox, visit with a case worker, visit with the county mental health professional - a total of 11 hours later - we were told Hailey would be staying - whether she wanted to or not! Success! Hailey was going to get help! After spending 11 concentrated hours with our daughter, in a little room, with nothing to do but talk, Mike and I went from scared to terrified. Hailey was truly unhinged. She was so afraid for herself, so convinced the nurses were talking about her, totally sure that the antibiotics she needed were poison. Nothing we could say would ease her fears. She said over and over again, "can you hear what they're saying, can you see what they really are, can't you see them change in front of you?" As soon as the doors to the psych ward closed behind her, Mike and I breathed a sigh of relief...finally...she was gonna be okay...maybe.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
How many times can you say, "I fucked up again"
She's somewhere in Minnesota. She sounds awful. She says over and over again, You know what's happening. Although I tell her I don't, she insists I do. I don't. I ask how she figured out the bus problem, after missing her ride in Tennessee, she says, "you know". I tell her I don't. She doesn't believe me or maybe it's more accurate to say she doesn't acknowledge what I'm saying. She has no money, no ID, no food. She has gotten rid of everything but the clothes on her back because all her possessions have scared her. She's afraid of radio frequencies and what they imply. She's afraid she's being watched, tracked, judged.
My daughter's voice is flat. Three months ago she sounded like she was at a carnival. Everything was just way too great. Her voice was too high, too fast, too enthusiastic. Life was great and exciting. Now she sounds monotone. I ask her again and again, "are you still there? Can you hear me?" because she's not talking. When she does she says, "I fucked up. I know I fucked it all up. I always do this". I can't count the amount of times I've heard this same statement from her. Over and over again we've been down this road. She falls, I take her in, clean her up, pay her bills, figure out all the doctor and social programs and just when I think, "this time! Maybe this time she'll be okay", she walks out the door. Back to a life on the streets.
I have until Saturday. Then life is turned upside down again. My dear, sweet patient husband asked me today, "How far do I let you go? How insistent do I need to be with you?". He's been down this road too many times to have any misconceptions of how it will end. I tell him that he needs to remind me to think with my head not my heart...good luck.
So Saturday she'll go to a shelter. She'll see her social worker for help, but I won't be there for her. I bought the bus ticket, but that's as far as I can go.
I'm just so tired.
My daughter's voice is flat. Three months ago she sounded like she was at a carnival. Everything was just way too great. Her voice was too high, too fast, too enthusiastic. Life was great and exciting. Now she sounds monotone. I ask her again and again, "are you still there? Can you hear me?" because she's not talking. When she does she says, "I fucked up. I know I fucked it all up. I always do this". I can't count the amount of times I've heard this same statement from her. Over and over again we've been down this road. She falls, I take her in, clean her up, pay her bills, figure out all the doctor and social programs and just when I think, "this time! Maybe this time she'll be okay", she walks out the door. Back to a life on the streets.
I have until Saturday. Then life is turned upside down again. My dear, sweet patient husband asked me today, "How far do I let you go? How insistent do I need to be with you?". He's been down this road too many times to have any misconceptions of how it will end. I tell him that he needs to remind me to think with my head not my heart...good luck.
So Saturday she'll go to a shelter. She'll see her social worker for help, but I won't be there for her. I bought the bus ticket, but that's as far as I can go.
I'm just so tired.
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