We "got around the system" in July of that year. Homecoming was in October and we were very excited about it. We had the dress and my daughter had her date. Although I didn't particularly care for her date, I was still looking forward to my daughter's night out. We went through the plans for the evening - especially after homecoming. She was to spend the night at a friend's house from where she was to call us after her arrival there.
She called us later that evening in tears because her boyfriend had left her at the dance early. She was terribly upset, but still wanted to go to her friend's house. We felt it was probably the right thing to let her go, but asked to speak to the parents to confirm she was there and that they were comfortable having the girls at their home.
We later received a phone call, about 2 hours later, from the parents of the people whose house she was supposed to spend the night at and were told she had gone out through the basement door and left with someone who pulled up in a truck. It's against their rules to have people leave their home once they've arrived and they didn't want us thinking she was there when she wasn't.
I quickly thanked them and hung up to call my daughter on her cell phone while dressing to go out into the night to find her.
She told me she was still at their house and where their house was. As I traveled the short distance to their home, I was a little lost because of the dark - or because of her attempt to keep me at bay while she hurried back there.
When I got there she said she was outside with her boyfriend at his truck in the driveway the entire time. I took her inside and talked to the parents who told me the truth. She had sneaked out the door and left with him earlier and they had just pulled back up in the drive shortly before me.
I had her retrieve her things and had her come with me. She explained she was at the house of her boyfriend's friend, which was between our house and the house she was to be staying at, and was going to stay there with him. Yes, the one that dumped her at the dance.
She said I didn't understand and that he was just bored at the dance and that she had told him he could go with his friends and she would get a ride to her friend's house.
I explained that you don't let boys do that to you especially not on a big night and that you don't sneak out and lie to your parents about where you are because it could be dangerous.
This was the start of our realization that she was lying to be with this boy on quite a regular basis.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Friday, June 8, 2007
How to get around "the system"...
The answer regarding how to get around the system of waiting what seemed to be forever for an appointment with a psychiatrist was actually easier than I'd imagined. I think one of the nurses in the family doctor's office helped me come up with the details, but I can't quite recall. That's one of the bad parts of what I've struggled with - details are sometimes a bit sketchy because my memory seems to have been ruined at some point during this period. Anyway, I digress.
I made an appointment with a counselor in the same office where the psychiatrist worked. She would need counseling in addition to psychiatric care, after all, right? Then, the counselor could recommend she really needed to be seen and get her in sooner!
It worked like a charm. We had her in and on anti-depressants within a few weeks instead of a few months. Bless that counselor and the idea for working our way into the graces of the care she needed at that time.
I was relieved, but as it turns out later, I really shouldn't have been too relieved...the story of hatred, lies, overdoses, and hidden pills awaits. Just when I thought we were going to be going down a road of relief, we were actually headed down the hill to the pits...
I made an appointment with a counselor in the same office where the psychiatrist worked. She would need counseling in addition to psychiatric care, after all, right? Then, the counselor could recommend she really needed to be seen and get her in sooner!
It worked like a charm. We had her in and on anti-depressants within a few weeks instead of a few months. Bless that counselor and the idea for working our way into the graces of the care she needed at that time.
I was relieved, but as it turns out later, I really shouldn't have been too relieved...the story of hatred, lies, overdoses, and hidden pills awaits. Just when I thought we were going to be going down a road of relief, we were actually headed down the hill to the pits...
The Day of the Scope
The morning after the discovery of the cutting that my daughter had been doing - apparently for several months - was the appointment for the scope. As we waited for her to be called, I called her regular doctor for a referral to a psychiatrist. I figured a teenager who was cutting should be a pretty high priority and should be seen as soon as possible.
While the regular doctor worked on the referral and getting the appointment, she underwent the scope procedure. During the recovery she had a bad reaction and had to be put in a private room for a while so the recovery took a bit longer than usual. They said that happens with some of the children/teens that age. It was more of a wailing/weeping than anything.
The doctor who did the scope spoke to us and told us there was nothing wrong on the inside. He suggested this was the end of the road for physical tests. He seemed to be indicating what we were already just discovering on our own - there was something emotionally or mentally going on that needed attention. When asked directly about that possibility, and revealing our discovering, he confirmed that he felt she was probably on that path and needed to be seen and put on anti-depressant medication.
The family doctor called back and had an appointment that was almost two months away with a psychiatrist! I asked for the doctor to start her on something in the interim so she could start healing and feeling better as soon as possible. They did give her a drug to help her calm down when she became upset - Lorazepam. The generic for Ativan. One mg tablets to be taken as needed for stress.
Because I had been on these pills at many points in the past, that's what I'd asked for. I explained to my daughter how and when to take them.
In the meantime I had to figure out how to get her into the psychiatrist sooner than the appointment they'd scheduled. That was just too far out. We were a family in crisis with a teen that desperately needed help. I was horrified that the wait could be so long. I was told the wait would be at least that long at any psychiatric office in the city.
While the regular doctor worked on the referral and getting the appointment, she underwent the scope procedure. During the recovery she had a bad reaction and had to be put in a private room for a while so the recovery took a bit longer than usual. They said that happens with some of the children/teens that age. It was more of a wailing/weeping than anything.
The doctor who did the scope spoke to us and told us there was nothing wrong on the inside. He suggested this was the end of the road for physical tests. He seemed to be indicating what we were already just discovering on our own - there was something emotionally or mentally going on that needed attention. When asked directly about that possibility, and revealing our discovering, he confirmed that he felt she was probably on that path and needed to be seen and put on anti-depressant medication.
The family doctor called back and had an appointment that was almost two months away with a psychiatrist! I asked for the doctor to start her on something in the interim so she could start healing and feeling better as soon as possible. They did give her a drug to help her calm down when she became upset - Lorazepam. The generic for Ativan. One mg tablets to be taken as needed for stress.
Because I had been on these pills at many points in the past, that's what I'd asked for. I explained to my daughter how and when to take them.
In the meantime I had to figure out how to get her into the psychiatrist sooner than the appointment they'd scheduled. That was just too far out. We were a family in crisis with a teen that desperately needed help. I was horrified that the wait could be so long. I was told the wait would be at least that long at any psychiatric office in the city.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
About Two Years Ago
Actually, I could probably trace it back to two and a half years ago because it was around Christmas or in January thereafter that I began to notice a change in my then 14 year old daughter. She was complaining about her stomach a lot and yet insisted on going to school each day. She also didn't have a fever with the stomach problems.
She seemed to have lost some of her liveliness. She was a cheerleader and it seemed she just wasn't into it the same as she had been in the past. She also seemed a bit pale and unhappy. She was disinterested in spending time with the family, but I chalked that up to becoming a teenager and spending time with friends.
More and more she complained of vomiting nearly every day as the months went on and said her stomach hurt nearly constantly.
Looking back I now realize how many of the signs and symptoms I was missing, but at the time I just didn't see what was right before my eyes. I wasn't prepared for the fight that was ahead either.
We began by seeing our regular doctor about the problem. We were then sent to a pediatric gastroenterologist. We were then sent to the gynecologist. Several co-pays later and many exams and blood tests later, we were back at the pediatric gastroenterologist. Next she would have a scope to study her inside to see if they could figure out what was going on. This would be delayed until after our trip in May.
By the end of May, when we take our annual trip to southern Illinois at the end of the school year, my younger daughter (then 11) even began to suspect that her older sister was purging. She told me so and even said that a stranger in the bathroom had commented on it. I talked to my older daughter about it, but she denied it and claimed it wasn't on purpose and she didn't know why it was happening.
I was so gullible and believed in her so much that I took her word for it. In the next few days it would become more and more difficult to believe.
After returning home, the evening before we were set to have the scope done, I was picking up in the kid's bathroom and found a razor with blood on it. I was in an immediate panic because there was blood all over the counter as well, not like a nick from shaving legs in the shower. I looked for my daughter and my husband and tried to find out what was going on. I had only heard of the term "cutting" a few weeks before on one of my soap operas that I watch. Who says soap operas have no educational value? However, I didn't know enough to withhold my panic and fear of thinking my daughter might actually want to kill herself.
She showed us her wounds. Not only the current cuts on her arms, but scars from previous cuts. She then lashed out because we had not noticed before. She asked why we didn't question her when she wore sweatshirts all the time - even when it wasn't cold out. Well, actually we had, but she claimed to always be cold and we believed her - especially considering she didn't seem to feel well at any point in time.
The next day would be the scope...and more answers.
She seemed to have lost some of her liveliness. She was a cheerleader and it seemed she just wasn't into it the same as she had been in the past. She also seemed a bit pale and unhappy. She was disinterested in spending time with the family, but I chalked that up to becoming a teenager and spending time with friends.
More and more she complained of vomiting nearly every day as the months went on and said her stomach hurt nearly constantly.
Looking back I now realize how many of the signs and symptoms I was missing, but at the time I just didn't see what was right before my eyes. I wasn't prepared for the fight that was ahead either.
We began by seeing our regular doctor about the problem. We were then sent to a pediatric gastroenterologist. We were then sent to the gynecologist. Several co-pays later and many exams and blood tests later, we were back at the pediatric gastroenterologist. Next she would have a scope to study her inside to see if they could figure out what was going on. This would be delayed until after our trip in May.
By the end of May, when we take our annual trip to southern Illinois at the end of the school year, my younger daughter (then 11) even began to suspect that her older sister was purging. She told me so and even said that a stranger in the bathroom had commented on it. I talked to my older daughter about it, but she denied it and claimed it wasn't on purpose and she didn't know why it was happening.
I was so gullible and believed in her so much that I took her word for it. In the next few days it would become more and more difficult to believe.
After returning home, the evening before we were set to have the scope done, I was picking up in the kid's bathroom and found a razor with blood on it. I was in an immediate panic because there was blood all over the counter as well, not like a nick from shaving legs in the shower. I looked for my daughter and my husband and tried to find out what was going on. I had only heard of the term "cutting" a few weeks before on one of my soap operas that I watch. Who says soap operas have no educational value? However, I didn't know enough to withhold my panic and fear of thinking my daughter might actually want to kill herself.
She showed us her wounds. Not only the current cuts on her arms, but scars from previous cuts. She then lashed out because we had not noticed before. She asked why we didn't question her when she wore sweatshirts all the time - even when it wasn't cold out. Well, actually we had, but she claimed to always be cold and we believed her - especially considering she didn't seem to feel well at any point in time.
The next day would be the scope...and more answers.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Where Did This Start? / The Battle for my Mind
Originally, I thought this battle, the one I've currently been fighting in my mind, started about two years ago. After researching, I realized I was right, but my "condition" has been a part of my life for nearly all of my life and I could have been better prepared if I was more aware.
You see, the situations that I've been battling, or that set off my current frame of mind, began around two years ago when one of my daughters began having extremely frequent, and seemingly inexplicable, stomach problems. This led to a long and drawn out series of events that led me to feel like an awful parent.
As I've taken the last couple of months to seriously heal from the pain in my mind though, I've realized the way my mind works and the fact that it can easily slide into a seriously depressed and manic condition has been present for a long time. If I admitted exactly how long, it would be like admitting to my age though and that's hard for me to do as well.
Incident #1
In going back I recall events when I was a teenager that led me to want to just not be part of this world. Not necessarily die or anything, but just be away from the world and the craziness associated with it all. I did reach out in a suicidal manner, but I'm not sure why and can only guess it was all I knew to do to ask for help at the time.
Incident #2
I was married young and we had some marital problems early in our marriage during which I was prone to mental issues and had a mental breakdown. However, believing so strongly in the sanctity of marriage, we worked at it and got back together. We had our first child in when I was in my early 20s. (Notice me trying not to age myself too much again.)
A few years later, we had another child, but shortly thereafter our marriage fell apart again. This time for good. The first few years after the break up were difficult and I was a mess - all over again. This time I had children to live for and knew they needed me even though I thought they would be better off without me as an example.
Incident #3
The most recent incident, and the most major of them all really. I was more mentally lost and instable during the last 9 or so months than I can ever recall. I have had several mental break downs and was finally put on medical disability by my psychiatrist in late March. I am going to be returning to work, finally, next week.
We've taken out a home equity loan on our home because the disability claim was denied even though my leave was approved by our HR department at my office. We're in the appeal process, but I'm not very hopeful. That's more than two months worth of salary completely lost, except what little vacation I had saved. It's put us in a very financially bad place which has made the stress even worse.
So, where did it all start? I think this has to be part of my chemical make up. Part of the way that I am. I believe it because each of these incidents were separate and I know I could not control what was going on in each situation on my own. It is only now, however, that I admit and realize that this is an ongoing and life long battle with a mental illness in my head that I am going to have to watch for and monitor and stay on top of for the rest of my life.
Previously, I thought I was going through a depression at different points in my life due to some type of issue that would depress anyone. To some degree, that may be true. I now believe that I am incapable of handling the depression in the same way as any other "normal" depressed person would though. I am Bipolar and I am learning what that means and how to live with it.
I was told, during the course of incident #2, that I was Bipolar (Manic Depressive), but I just thought it basically meant I was extremely depressed and the depression was due to the events and stresses in my life.
Now I realize, or I believe, that it is a condition that should be closely monitored and cared for. Even when I think I'm okay, I should be monitoring and watching for signs of a curve ball in my path.
I had completely gone off of all depression medication and thought I was doing so well because I was happily married and had been trying to have a baby. We do have that baby now and, in fact, he was not quite a year old when all of this began with his older sister. It took a couple of years to conceive him so I really had been off of the medication for around 5 years or so by the time I began to deal with what was about to turn my life upside down.
You see, the situations that I've been battling, or that set off my current frame of mind, began around two years ago when one of my daughters began having extremely frequent, and seemingly inexplicable, stomach problems. This led to a long and drawn out series of events that led me to feel like an awful parent.
As I've taken the last couple of months to seriously heal from the pain in my mind though, I've realized the way my mind works and the fact that it can easily slide into a seriously depressed and manic condition has been present for a long time. If I admitted exactly how long, it would be like admitting to my age though and that's hard for me to do as well.
Incident #1
In going back I recall events when I was a teenager that led me to want to just not be part of this world. Not necessarily die or anything, but just be away from the world and the craziness associated with it all. I did reach out in a suicidal manner, but I'm not sure why and can only guess it was all I knew to do to ask for help at the time.
Incident #2
I was married young and we had some marital problems early in our marriage during which I was prone to mental issues and had a mental breakdown. However, believing so strongly in the sanctity of marriage, we worked at it and got back together. We had our first child in when I was in my early 20s. (Notice me trying not to age myself too much again.)
A few years later, we had another child, but shortly thereafter our marriage fell apart again. This time for good. The first few years after the break up were difficult and I was a mess - all over again. This time I had children to live for and knew they needed me even though I thought they would be better off without me as an example.
Incident #3
The most recent incident, and the most major of them all really. I was more mentally lost and instable during the last 9 or so months than I can ever recall. I have had several mental break downs and was finally put on medical disability by my psychiatrist in late March. I am going to be returning to work, finally, next week.
We've taken out a home equity loan on our home because the disability claim was denied even though my leave was approved by our HR department at my office. We're in the appeal process, but I'm not very hopeful. That's more than two months worth of salary completely lost, except what little vacation I had saved. It's put us in a very financially bad place which has made the stress even worse.
So, where did it all start? I think this has to be part of my chemical make up. Part of the way that I am. I believe it because each of these incidents were separate and I know I could not control what was going on in each situation on my own. It is only now, however, that I admit and realize that this is an ongoing and life long battle with a mental illness in my head that I am going to have to watch for and monitor and stay on top of for the rest of my life.
Previously, I thought I was going through a depression at different points in my life due to some type of issue that would depress anyone. To some degree, that may be true. I now believe that I am incapable of handling the depression in the same way as any other "normal" depressed person would though. I am Bipolar and I am learning what that means and how to live with it.
I was told, during the course of incident #2, that I was Bipolar (Manic Depressive), but I just thought it basically meant I was extremely depressed and the depression was due to the events and stresses in my life.
Now I realize, or I believe, that it is a condition that should be closely monitored and cared for. Even when I think I'm okay, I should be monitoring and watching for signs of a curve ball in my path.
I had completely gone off of all depression medication and thought I was doing so well because I was happily married and had been trying to have a baby. We do have that baby now and, in fact, he was not quite a year old when all of this began with his older sister. It took a couple of years to conceive him so I really had been off of the medication for around 5 years or so by the time I began to deal with what was about to turn my life upside down.
Y ME??? / The Fight Against Breast Cancer
I've used Y ME in one way or another for more than 7 years now since I married my current husband, whose last name begins with an E. Recently, I've seen the Y ME walks which I believe are for the fight against breast cancer. I support the fight against breast cancer, however, this blog is not directly connected to that official cause.
My wish is for breast cancer to be obliterated as soon as possible, but that will never be soon enough to bring back my mother-in-law who went home to heaven after more than 10 years in her fight against breast cancer. She was a wonderful woman and was fortunate to have as many good years as she did.
My mother-in-law is sadly and much missed, and is part of the path in my life that will be discussed. I know she is in a better place and is happer and healthier than ever.
Just wanted to say that up front.
My wish is for breast cancer to be obliterated as soon as possible, but that will never be soon enough to bring back my mother-in-law who went home to heaven after more than 10 years in her fight against breast cancer. She was a wonderful woman and was fortunate to have as many good years as she did.
My mother-in-law is sadly and much missed, and is part of the path in my life that will be discussed. I know she is in a better place and is happer and healthier than ever.
Just wanted to say that up front.
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