Currently, those are the two moving forces in my life. I went from my one morning cup of Cafe Bustello (I compare this particular brand of espresso to straight cupped lightening) to an average of about three a day. My brain is in constant overdrive and my body seems to be lagging behind. I wake up every morning, read my bible verse for the day from my YouVersion app, hop over to whatever Loop for Women reading plan I’m currently committed to, and then immerse myself into my Unshakeable daily devotion (which I HIGHLY recommend). I probably have about fifty different conversations with God throughout the day. I’m not divulging this information for any other reason but to let you know I am LITERALLY living off of caffeine and Jesus.
As I sit here preparing for Kayleigh’s transfer to residential care tomorrow, I feel overwhelmed by a sense of fear. Have I made the right decision? What could I have done to prevent this? For once in my life, my heart and my head finally are in agreeance on something. There isn’t any other choice, no matter if the decision made is right or wrong. I never could have imagined we’d be here, me feeling helpless to protect my child and her feeling like I’ve abandoned her. That just isn’t how I envisioned our life story playing out when I first held her in my arms.
I know I have to see the bigger picture here. I’ve tried to remain in a very positive space since our world was completely transformed on this very day two weeks ago. Every day I feel more of a push in that direction. I know I have to run as fast as I can from that ocean of darkness that exists in us all. It’s these situations that can envelop you and drag you down in despair and desolation if you give in. My mind won’t let me venture away from how she must be feeling. She’s no stranger to these short term stabilization units, but she is about to venture into uncharted territory come tomorrow. This will be her new home. That makes a part of me so angry, enrages me really. THIS is her home. She should be here. With us. Why can’t I just glue her broken pieces back together myself? It isn’t supposed to be this way. I know she will be safe from harm and I am truly filled with a very promising hope, it’s just a very confusing time in our lives I suppose.
I mentioned in a prior blog that she had been in a facility last month and two last year as well. I feel like I need to tell y’all something about that and it may cause some of you to look at me condescendingly. Most likely the majority of you will shake your head at this, but I said I wanted to be crystal clear here (me and my big mouth). I did not miss my child one bit when she was away from me for those twenty one days last month. Judge all you want, but I didn't. I was later told that had become my coping mechanism, to become entirely numb to the situation. I felt like I was on vacation when she was gone and I was only living the mundane, boring life most people take for granted. I was happy to go to work and do my job for eight hours and come home, cook dinner, do laundry, work out, or whatever the heck I wanted without any dramatic crisis situations. I didn't have to worry about my child putting holes in the walls, throwing thumbtacks on the floor in a fit of rage which led to me pulling said thumbtacks out her younger sister's feet, carrying knives around the house, or if she was going to run away again (which would yet again lead me to have to call the police for the one hundredth time). I didn't have to be concerned about dispatch calling to inform me my child had coerced a janitor from her school to take her home and because she didn't know her address, he ended up dropping her off clear across the other side of town in a sweet, elderly woman's front yard. I didn't have to search for two hours in a known local drug community to find my daughter, because she told a substitute bus driver that is where she lived. I could keep you up all night with a list of how I had somehow found the button that shut down my emotions and caused me to stop feeling.
That isn't how I feel anymore, for those of you sitting in disbelief that I could tell you her story of having two brain surgeries and then tell you I didn't miss her when she went away for the third time to an acute psychiatric unit. The reality of the weight she carries around with her on a daily basis is something I live with every second of every single day now. It's excruciating how much I want her with me. I never want her to leave my side again. But here I sit and she is not here. I can't hear her singing at the top of her lungs in the shower and I can't see her on the couch opposite me, telling me about her day. I will see her tomorrow and get her acquainted with her new residence. I will put on a brave face for her, but I will be falling apart inside. It's going to take all of the caffeine and ALL of the Jesus to get me through this.
Constant Kindness Can Accomplish Much
Of Monsters and Men - I Of The Storm