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!
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
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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