I am trying to sort out my experiences and thoughts to better understand how to move forward and not stay stuck in the past.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Recovering from Recovery

Well, my daughter is home.  It seems like she's been away for a lot longer than she was.  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I'm happy to say that she seems different in a good way--calmer and wiser. That's the result.  This past week, though, has been wild and unsettling.  There are so many emotions and thoughts I have been trying to sort out.  So, here was the process.

First, about me. I want to make an observation.  The first week my daughter was gone, it took me about a week for my emotions to catch up with my brain.  I would go to work, and come home, let the dogs out. Let the dogs in.  Put on the sweats, and lay on the couch.  Sometimes I would fall asleep.  Sometimes I would watch some T.V. and then fall asleep.  Most of the time, I would watch T.V., take a nap so that I would have the energy to go upstairs to go to bed.  It was like I couldn't focus on how to function without worrying.  All of my energy went into work, I couldn't push my brain anymore when I got home. Then, the next week, the week I was packing up my daughter's box, my brain kind of did a fast forward, like they do in the movies where the character goes through five years of life and zip, is in the present.  That was me.  As I was packing her box, my thinking just go clearer and clearer.  From that day until today, I was on time, laundry didn't sit in the basket for days, papers didn't get pushed aside.  I cleaned out 2 closets, the dinning room (turned into 'study'), I worked in the yard, and was not only on time for work (I am always) but I went in early to work ahead!  It didn't take me years to re -find myself.  It took me a week.  It felt great.  Even with the crazy situation that happened at the facility she was in, I was having my own self-rediscovery recovery. 

Her recovery:  My daughter had called me the Friday before the box, and she wasn't happy.  She said she wouldn't be able to call me until the following Friday. I recieved a letter from her on Monday that pretty much told of a place similar to House on Haunted Hill. I didn't know what to think. Well, Tuesday night, around 6:30 the phone rang. My daughter was angry and panicked.  She was telling me she was going to leave AMA (against medical advice) She had demanded to use the phone, even though it wasn't her day.  I told her to calm down. She said that someone in her unit had stolen a key from one of the tech's and so no one could go to group.  She was upset because she had said that this group was actually helping her.  (Even in her panic, I felt hopeful because she said that something was helping her, but it made me angry, too, because she was being denied treatment for something she didn't do).  So, I told her to stay there, and don't go anywhere I was going to make some calls.  We hung up and I started to panic because I had no idea who to call.  So, I went on line to look up names from the facility.  I left a few messages, but I didn't feel satisfied.  Then I remembered Diane, the Angel of Mercy who had helped us, before.  So I called her and left her a message.  Well, by now I was worried and worked up, so I started dusting.  Diane called back around 8:30, and she sounded madder than me!

I explained to her, again all that my daughter had said, and her exact words to me: "You get on that G** D*** computer and type all of this up!  I will give you a fax of the guy in charge of all of this and you send it to him! I'm so fed up with these counselors!  People have complained to me before, but no one says anything!"  Me: "Hold on, Diane, do you have a number?  I'll call the guy."  Diane: "Yes. You'd do that? That's even better.  I'll text him right now and tell him you'll be calling him tomorrow morning."  When I got off of the phone with Diane, I was happy that she was there, again, ready to help.  Then I started wondering why she sent us to a place where she felt the counseling was sub par. (hmmm).

So, I wrote it down, had my daughter's letter and waited until the morning.  Before I could call this guy, Diane called me making sure I had all of my paper work ready.  I assured her I did, and then I called.  On the phone, this man, Mr. B, sounded sane. In fact, he was in the car on the way to the facility that was two hours away from his office.  I was feeling hopeful.  He listened to what I had to say and then assured me he would talk to my daughter, make sure she was safe, and get to the bottom of things.  After all, this facility was where he started.  His statement: "I built that place."  (hmmm).

He said he would call later that afternoon. I had to go back to work, but called Diane to tell her about the conversation.  After I was done, Diane said that my daughter was no longer there.  That someone said she had left, AMA.  "WHAT!?"  She told me she would make a call and get back to me.

Five minutes later, the phone rings.  It ends up being the supervisor from the facility.  The very woman who denied the treatment.  She introduced herself, and said that she understood that I had a question about my daughter's treatment. (How did she know so quickly?)  "Yes.  Is she getting any?"  She then read me the daily schedule.  I said, "That sounds very nice, but is that schedule followed EVERY DAY?"  Pause.  "Well, it wasn't yesterday because the unit was 'acting up.'  Me: "The WHOLE unit was acting up?   (silence)  "Well, I find that hard to believe."  (silence)  "Are you still there?"  "Yes."  "Okay, well, I don't care what the whole unit is doing, you can't deny my daughter, or anyone else there, treatment because that's why they are there."  "Well, she sees her counselor every day."  (that ended up being a lie, by the way)  "Great.  She needs the other groups, too.  Especially the one that is helping her. Make sure she gets there."  Her: "Do you have any other questions?"  "Yes. Is my daughter there?"  "Yes."  "Let me talk to her."  So, she put her on the phone.  I asked her if she was okay. She was. Then I told my daughter that a man would be coming there and she was to tell him everything.  She said that she would.  I told her I loved her and hung up the phone.

I called Diane to tell her about that conversation, and that my daughter was okay.  I went to work.

That is part one.  I wanted to wait because my daughter's view on what happened is my guide to how this will be resolved. We talked when she got home, so, I'm back to trying to put my thoughts together. This recovery business really does take some time...and a lot out of you.

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