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.
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