Today was a truthful day. For the past month I have been very busy helping my niece. She's an alcoholic, a former meth user, and lives with a man who regularly gets physical with her, sometimes leaving bruises and black eyes. She called me out of the blue a month ago, telling me that she wanted to die, to kill herself. We talked for awhile, she told me lots of stuff that has been going wrong in her life and how her boyfriend beats on her. When we talked I tried to convince her to let me come get her and take her to the hospital where she could detox and get mental help. She hung up on me. I talked to hubby and he said to call my sister, Laura, as she has 11 kids, has tried to help our niece before and even let her live with her for awhile. She said to call the police, but didn't have the address where my niece was living. So then I call my other sister, her mom. She gave me address that she had and said that she has tried to do so much but since she is out of state, there really isn't a lot she could do. She gave me a little of my niece's history.
What happened is I called 911, they sent out an officer to the address but found out that she and the boyfriend had been evicted and nobody knew where they lived. I called my niece back but she still refused to tell me where she lived and hung up on me again. I sent her a text message that I could come and get her myself and take her to the hospital, not to admit her but to get her foot xrayed because while she was drunk and mad, she had kicked something and thought she broke it. I did not hear back from her.
But then I started sending her texts about me, the problems I have, the diagnosises I've gotten, the family history of depression and more. That I wanted to help her help herself. And that I was still willing to drive her to get her foot checked out. A couple of days later, she texted me and we agreed I would come take her to the hospital the next day.
That was the beginning of us talking and me giving her rides to the hospital, to therapy she was suggested to attend by the court for a domestic harassment charge that she had pled guilty to but still had to go back for sentencing.
A handful of times she had been very drunk and in fights with the boyfriend and she would call me to come get her so she could spend the night before it got out of hand. The next morning over a particularly bad fight, she said she was done with him and did't want to go back. She had therapy that morning but she called and cancelled it, so I told her we were going to the Crisis Center, where you could walk in, fill out some paperwork, and talk to a counselor. She freaked but I persisted with humor, filled out the paperwork in my name and eventually we got to talk to someone. This allowed me to come up with some basic, no compromise things I wanted when she came to my house. No drinking alcohol. No drugs. No smoking pot with the guys, she could smoke up in the library where she was sleeping when she came over. No being alone with our roommate, Frank. Frank is also an alcoholic. He confines himself to beer when he is home. And he rarely goes out. But Frank does get opinionated, considers himself helpful to women in distress, and it just wouldn't end well. My niece agreed to all these terms. I also said that even though she is a 28 year old woman, my instinct is to grab her, hug her, and whisk her to safety. But knowing she is an adult, I knew that I can't force my opinion on her, I can be there for her, but have to respect her wishes until the time comes that she is ready for more help. But she has to decide when that is. The counselor suggested she go to AA meetings and that I go to Al Anon, so I could better under the alcoholic mind and learn how to help without enabling. I got schedules for both
I found out that here in Colorado you could no longer have a person committed for them saying they wanted to kill themselves until they admit it to someone like a cop or mental health care provider. And even then, they have to commit themselves unless they actually try to do it.
I have since gone to two Al Anon meetings, gotten my book Courage to Change, which is the daily readings they do to help in their recovery of accepting they also, are powerless over alcohol and the alcoholic. They talked about .loving with detachment. And other concepts that I'm still hearing and learning about. Saturday, I am ready to find a sponsor.
I told my sister, Collette, in a text message what I was doing, checking in with my therapist, attending AA, the boundaries I had set up, and how I was trying to send a daily message to my niece, her daughter, encouraging her and telling her that she was worthy of love and respect, even from herself. That lead to a phone call from my sister, and a conversation where lots of things came out from her and it was interesting. I promised to stay in touch.
The downfall of everything that has been going on has been rough on me. Hubby, with his mental struggles and explosive anger has triggered my PTSD from trauma I received from my first two abusive marriages. I started to compensate. The stress of the bedbugs and that war. The struggle with getting Frank to vacuum three times a week and do a good job without feeling like a mom checking to see if the kids did their chores. Then being immersed back into a life of drunkenness, abuse, lose of control. It was too much. All these triggered my DID also. I started to lose time, especially when driving. One moment I would be driving, next moment, I'm somewhere completely different. Iii have no memory of driving but while I am in a blackout state, another part of me takes over completely and talks, drives, functions quite well. I also do something which I call operating in a third person. I am inside of myself, like standing back inside my head, and watching myself talk, eat, laugh, gesture, but have no control over anything. My shrink calls it depersonalizing.
This is where Doc, the rescue chihuahua mix I got from the Human Society comes in. With him with me, I don't lose time. Or haven't so far. He makes me stay in the present by grounding me. He whines, moan, pushes at my hands or arms, to get my attention to pet him. This simple act of stroking him, keeps me in this present state of mind. I have to stay aware because I am responsible for another life. When Cassie was born was when I started to fall apart because I started to become aware of losing time when I wasn't with her, depersonalizing, not being able to use these learned coping techniques I had trained myself to do when stressful or hurtful situations would occur to me. I was told this is a coping mechanism that children with high IQs would do to cope with abuse and other trauma.
I met with my shrink. We discussed what was going on the triggers I realized had put me back into this illness, fresh and scary. There is nothing I can to do change hubby and his situation dramatically now, and he has agreed to go to counseling, and I'm not going to tell my niece "Sorry but your lifestyle is a trigger for me so don't call me or contact me.". No. But because it has happened while I'm on Safris, we are gradually changing my medication over to Abilify. Now this is a medication that enhances other meds, but Dr Fouss said it does other things too and he things it will considerably help all the anxiety I am experiencing and help with the situation. He also has referred me to a colleague for an additional type of therapy called RRO. It's some sort of light hypnosis to help PTSD patients who keep revisiting their trauma.
The war on the bedbugs is going well. The mattress encasements (bedbug proof covers) actually make it easier for the bedbugs to climb up the sides and get in bed with us. But we change the bedding all every two days, washing immediately in hot water and drying on high for over 60 minutes. I bought wood flooring sample squares to this weekend we are going to put those under the interceptors under the bed legs so the bedbugs can't climb up the frame. It traps them in a well around the leg. We lift the mattress each time we change the sheet and check for the little creepers. I have found two in the last week. One on my pillow that I think bit me on my back, and one on the bathroom counter. Squished them both.
Tomorrow is my first day volunteering at Rescued Hearts Thrift Store, the store run by volunteers, provided for by donations, and issues grants from the profits it makes to all sorts of local animal rescues here in the Springs. I can't take Doc this first time, so I'm a little nervouse.
No comments:
Post a Comment