Lady_Winterfell
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What is your sexual orientation: Bisexual
Who in your life has "personality" issues: Child
Relationship status: Divorced
Posts: 4
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« on: March 29, 2023, 08:12:35 AM » |
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Since my recent post, I continued to read 'Stop Walking on Eggshells'. I, again, talked with my other children and my Mother. They all reminded me I've been setting boundaries with my daughter for years and nothing changes. I have been in a vicious cycle of enabling and codependency.
I had started to research how to remove her from the house. A friend has said she'd drive here (she lives a little over an hour away) and provide support when I gave my daughter notice. The plan had been set on Saturday. It escalated rapidly on Sunday. We were fighting a lot. It was so erratic and delusional. I should know better than to fight about anything. At one point she said she was done, and I said I am too, I'd like you to leave by May 1st. It got worse. I got angry with myself for doing it the way I did. She then started vacillating between crying and raging. She'd walk through the downstairs, taking things outback for the trash, threatening to kill herself. At one point she texted me and asked me the phone number for the Behavioral Health Hospital. I texted it to her. Evidently, she scheduled an intake for this past Monday.
I talked with my son about calling 911 or seeing if she was willing to go in for help. I called the Behavioral Hospital and was told if I get her to the ER, they could process her faster, so I decided to give her the choice first. She agreed. We went to the Emergency Room. She started meek and soft spoken. Answering questions almost like a child. The person from the Behavioral staff asked her "What do you enjoy in life?" Her tone, posture, everything changed aggressive. She angrily answered, "Apparently, I'm a drug addict!" She answered the further questions in this persona until she was asked, "Are you family supportive?" She turned almost normal (whatever that means) and answered, "They try." Then right back to the angry combative. When the woman left the room, I asked her who said she was a drug addict. She looked right at me and said, "You did." Uh, I have never called her a drug addict. I told her, "No, I didn't, ever." She then started talking about our small city and how I don't know her experience and what she hears, etc. We were there over 6 hours. I was struggling with the idea of leaving her there. I finally did. I told her I loved her. She said she loved me, which surprised me. I asked her if she'd let me know where she goes. She told me, "Maybe."
And... fresh off the press update. As I started typing this, I hadn't heard from her. I had called the facility before I started, just to see if she was there. They had told me they'd give her a message if she was there and then if she wanted to call she could. Right before I finished the 2nd paragraph, she called. It started off okay. I said it was great to hear from her. I told her I loved her. She said she loved me too. It was nice to hear from me. Then it changed. "I guess you just needed to know I didn't go AWOL." "Now you got what you want." "I'd rather be home finding a place to live now that you kicked me out." "Here I am taking accountability, just like you wanted, but you'll have to live with the fact this is all on you." "Now you can go on and be happy." She even brought up something from when she tried her NY State move. I told her I didn't just call to know if she was AWOL. That I suppose it must have been part of it just by the nature of the thought, but I hadn't considered it. Telling her that seems like a mistake. I told her she needs to work on herself and not worry about about a place to live. That if she's in there for 3 weeks or whatever, I'm not going to make her get out in a week after she gets out. That I wouldn't do that. She just said, "Whatever." I told her that her mental health is far more important. That I was proud of her. She was definitely pushing my buttons of insecurity, failure, etc. In my head, I just kept repeating, shut-up [my name], shut-up [my name]. I listened to it all and then she hung up on me after a little silence when I repeated, "I love you..."
This feeling is awful. I'm still filled with anxiety and fear. I am still locking my bedroom door at night. That said, I really hope she stays in inpatient for awhile. Take the benefits from it. Ugh. I hate being powerless. I also admit, I hate not being able to micromanage it. That gives me a false sense of security. I know I did the right thing. I just do not like the way I did it. I am trying to find a little gratitude in that it pushed her into treatment. I'm just concerned she'll walk out and it would all be for not anyway.
The guilt and shame I talked about before? It's laying in the pit of my stomach a lot lately. I can intellectually give myself the right answers, but I fight them and wish I wouldn't.
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