It turns out IOP is four hours a day, Monday through Friday. (sigh...)
Today we have to head east 30 minutes to go to IOP, then four hours later, head west 60 minutes to pick up my son from school and spend the evening with him. Then after dinner, we drive 45 minutes north to go to the Adolescent Narcotics Anonymous meeting held for alumni of the treatment program (my daughter's favorite meeting) and their parents support group (my favorite meeting). And finally another 45 minutes to drive back home, arriving at 10:00 p.m. just in time to go to bed.
One day at a time... (breathe...)
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
all quiet on the home front
Hard to believe it's been more than a week since I posted last. School has started and my son is living with his dad during the week, coming to my house only on the weekends. My daughter is finishing up her second week at the Eating Disorder house. I haven't gone to any Al-anon meetings lately and have not read the daily devotionals for several days now. It's like I am in limbo, waiting for whatever comes next.
Last Sunday I went to visit my daughter and since she was allowed to leave the house for the afternoon, we saw the movie, "The Help." Charming film. Weird though, in a way, because we couldn't go out to eat. She plans out her menu everyday and is not allowed to stray from it. I never realized how integral eating out was to our relationship.
Today I'm headed over there to have lunch with her and the therapist. The therapeutic purpose of this meal is to learn to recognize the symptoms of eating disorders. (She'll eat off her meal plan, I need to bring a lunch. Again, very weird that we will not be sharing the same food.)
I have no idea how long insurance will continue to approve her stay at this house. I am toying with the idea of pulling her out of residential and into a day program but not sure why. I guess I am reaching the point where I am ready to move out of limbo.
Last Sunday I went to visit my daughter and since she was allowed to leave the house for the afternoon, we saw the movie, "The Help." Charming film. Weird though, in a way, because we couldn't go out to eat. She plans out her menu everyday and is not allowed to stray from it. I never realized how integral eating out was to our relationship.
Today I'm headed over there to have lunch with her and the therapist. The therapeutic purpose of this meal is to learn to recognize the symptoms of eating disorders. (She'll eat off her meal plan, I need to bring a lunch. Again, very weird that we will not be sharing the same food.)
I have no idea how long insurance will continue to approve her stay at this house. I am toying with the idea of pulling her out of residential and into a day program but not sure why. I guess I am reaching the point where I am ready to move out of limbo.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
leaving it in God's hands
There are only a handful of people in my religious community and my daughter's academic community who know about what is going on. One question that has come up frequently from people who are associated with the school is, "Who did she do drugs with?"
I struggle with what my answer should be. In the letter that my daughter wrote me when she entered rehab, she named names. Some of the kids are still attending that school. I assume the "right" thing to do is to turn over the names to people in authority and yet, something holds me back.
When I first learned about the drug use, I was desperate to protect my daughter; to make sure she never associated with her suppliers ever again. And so I asked her who she used with and promised never to tell anyone who they were. She gave me one name at that time, of a guy who was not returning to the school. I found that highly suspicious. In the letter the list is much longer.
On the one hand, I am reluctant to tell anyone because of the promise I made her, even though it is one I made in desperation. I feel like, if we are to have any hope of building trust, I must keep my word. On the other hand, I am fearful of what people's motivations are for asking me for the names or what they will do with the information.
My pastors and one of my closest friends who happens to work at the school have asked me to share the names so that they can help in their professional capacities. I believe these are the people who should know and I will encourage my daughter to tell them, herself, one day.
I struggle when other people ask, especially other parents. I understand the desire to want to protect your child. If someone knew my daughter was using, I would have wanted them to tell me. And yet, I still hold back.
I hate the thought that this might become gossip, serving no purpose than to make the gossiper feel self-righteous.
I am fearful that another family will be hurt by well-intentioned but clueless others.
And the last thing I want is to launch a crusader who feels they must now save us poor sinners.
I've decided the best thing for me to do right now is to trust that God will reveal to people what they need to know and when they need to know it. And to follow the Al-Anon principle of anonymity. Drug use is no one's business but that of the user and the people who love them. If God gives me the opportunity to share with the parents of one of the kids on the list, I will, and with no one else.
I struggle with what my answer should be. In the letter that my daughter wrote me when she entered rehab, she named names. Some of the kids are still attending that school. I assume the "right" thing to do is to turn over the names to people in authority and yet, something holds me back.
When I first learned about the drug use, I was desperate to protect my daughter; to make sure she never associated with her suppliers ever again. And so I asked her who she used with and promised never to tell anyone who they were. She gave me one name at that time, of a guy who was not returning to the school. I found that highly suspicious. In the letter the list is much longer.
On the one hand, I am reluctant to tell anyone because of the promise I made her, even though it is one I made in desperation. I feel like, if we are to have any hope of building trust, I must keep my word. On the other hand, I am fearful of what people's motivations are for asking me for the names or what they will do with the information.
My pastors and one of my closest friends who happens to work at the school have asked me to share the names so that they can help in their professional capacities. I believe these are the people who should know and I will encourage my daughter to tell them, herself, one day.
I struggle when other people ask, especially other parents. I understand the desire to want to protect your child. If someone knew my daughter was using, I would have wanted them to tell me. And yet, I still hold back.
I hate the thought that this might become gossip, serving no purpose than to make the gossiper feel self-righteous.
I am fearful that another family will be hurt by well-intentioned but clueless others.
And the last thing I want is to launch a crusader who feels they must now save us poor sinners.
I've decided the best thing for me to do right now is to trust that God will reveal to people what they need to know and when they need to know it. And to follow the Al-Anon principle of anonymity. Drug use is no one's business but that of the user and the people who love them. If God gives me the opportunity to share with the parents of one of the kids on the list, I will, and with no one else.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
a word (or 900) about shame
On Sunday I went to visit my daughter for the first time since she was admitted to Rehab. She is so full of hope, it was wonderful to see. She was talking about finishing up high school in two years, maybe taking some college classes and working on a singing career. She told me things she had learned about drug addiction, particularly to hard drugs like cocaine and heroine. She had experienced things that she was afraid to tell me about before (like having visual and auditory hallucinations during withdrawal) but that she learned were normal. And she never wants to go through those things again.
She is also learning about eating disorders. Her therapist told her that kids who develop ED have had control issues starting from a very young age, things that happen when they were so young and are buried so deep that sometimes they never uncover them. My daughter talked about when we first moved into our own home without her father (she was just a couple of months shy of turning nine). I used to travel about one week a month for work and my daughter would call me several times a day when I was gone. She told me that she used to be so afraid when I travelled that I wouldn't come home, that I would die in an accident or plane crash.
I suppose I should have realized how stressed my daughter was when she was younger, but I was wrapped up in my own issues and did not see what was happening. I thought that, because I was leaving her in the care of her father and her grandparents whenever I went out of town, that she was fine. Plus, she was always such an easy child, even as a baby. I used to joke about how she would switch so easily between breastfeeding and bottle, as compared to her brother who was much more difficult. He refused to go back and forth between feeding methods so we switched to just bottle-feeding when he was just two weeks.
My daughter was not a child who threw tantrums; the "terrible twos" never happened with her. But during those last few years of my marriage, when things were at their absolute worst, she threw a couple of major, screaming, throwing herself on the floor, kicking tantrums. The first was when she was in first grade, at school (while I was on a business trip). When her teacher asked her why she was so upset (she was probably 5 at the time), my daughter replied that she was "afraid her mom wasn't going to come home." When the teacher asked if she was afraid something would happen to me, my daughter replied, no, that she was just afraid I wouldn't come home. The second tantrum happened about a year later, when the kids and I took a trip at Christmastime without their father for the first time. She had no recollection of either of these incidents.
We talked about what happened and I explained that I didn't think the problem was that I was gone so much but that I was so unhappy during her early years. When she was about 5 or 6, she overheard me talking with a friend on the phone and I laughed out loud at something the other person said. When I hung up, my daughter marveled at hearing me laugh out loud; she had never heard that before. And when I watch videos of myself from when the kids were young, I am mainly a solemn presence in the background, interacting only when someone speaks to me directly.
At the last Al-Anon meeting that I went to, the leader chose shame as the topic for the evening. A few parents (who have young children) shared what life was like before they came to Al-Anon, when they were consumed with trying to control the adult alcoholic in their life. They spoke with great shame and regret about how they were not present and available for their children emotionally. On the flip side, when adult children of alcoholics talk, they often share about how they felt like everything that went wrong was their own fault. That if they had just behaved better, their parent would not have drunk or (or did drugs or let life spiral out of control).
I think that shame and guilt are useless feelings, tools of the devil to keep us from where we could be. They lead to embarassment and the need to keep secrets. As my daughter told me about her fears and wondered aloud why she had control issues, I suppose I could have stayed silent. Let shame and embarrassment about being such a sad and absent mother (both physically and emotionallly) keep me from telling her what she needed to hear. But truthfully, since I am neither ashamed nor do I feel guilty, it came out very naturally, very matter-of-factly. It's just how things were back then and there is nothing I can do to go back and change them.
I think I saw a light come on in my daughter's eyes when she realized that there were things going on that she didn't understand, that had nothing to do with her, but that she took responsibility for and internalized at that young age.
We're having our first therapy session together on Friday and my daughter asked that I tell the therapist all that we talked about, in case she didn't remember to bring them up herself. And I will.
She is also learning about eating disorders. Her therapist told her that kids who develop ED have had control issues starting from a very young age, things that happen when they were so young and are buried so deep that sometimes they never uncover them. My daughter talked about when we first moved into our own home without her father (she was just a couple of months shy of turning nine). I used to travel about one week a month for work and my daughter would call me several times a day when I was gone. She told me that she used to be so afraid when I travelled that I wouldn't come home, that I would die in an accident or plane crash.
I suppose I should have realized how stressed my daughter was when she was younger, but I was wrapped up in my own issues and did not see what was happening. I thought that, because I was leaving her in the care of her father and her grandparents whenever I went out of town, that she was fine. Plus, she was always such an easy child, even as a baby. I used to joke about how she would switch so easily between breastfeeding and bottle, as compared to her brother who was much more difficult. He refused to go back and forth between feeding methods so we switched to just bottle-feeding when he was just two weeks.
My daughter was not a child who threw tantrums; the "terrible twos" never happened with her. But during those last few years of my marriage, when things were at their absolute worst, she threw a couple of major, screaming, throwing herself on the floor, kicking tantrums. The first was when she was in first grade, at school (while I was on a business trip). When her teacher asked her why she was so upset (she was probably 5 at the time), my daughter replied that she was "afraid her mom wasn't going to come home." When the teacher asked if she was afraid something would happen to me, my daughter replied, no, that she was just afraid I wouldn't come home. The second tantrum happened about a year later, when the kids and I took a trip at Christmastime without their father for the first time. She had no recollection of either of these incidents.
We talked about what happened and I explained that I didn't think the problem was that I was gone so much but that I was so unhappy during her early years. When she was about 5 or 6, she overheard me talking with a friend on the phone and I laughed out loud at something the other person said. When I hung up, my daughter marveled at hearing me laugh out loud; she had never heard that before. And when I watch videos of myself from when the kids were young, I am mainly a solemn presence in the background, interacting only when someone speaks to me directly.
At the last Al-Anon meeting that I went to, the leader chose shame as the topic for the evening. A few parents (who have young children) shared what life was like before they came to Al-Anon, when they were consumed with trying to control the adult alcoholic in their life. They spoke with great shame and regret about how they were not present and available for their children emotionally. On the flip side, when adult children of alcoholics talk, they often share about how they felt like everything that went wrong was their own fault. That if they had just behaved better, their parent would not have drunk or (or did drugs or let life spiral out of control).
I think that shame and guilt are useless feelings, tools of the devil to keep us from where we could be. They lead to embarassment and the need to keep secrets. As my daughter told me about her fears and wondered aloud why she had control issues, I suppose I could have stayed silent. Let shame and embarrassment about being such a sad and absent mother (both physically and emotionallly) keep me from telling her what she needed to hear. But truthfully, since I am neither ashamed nor do I feel guilty, it came out very naturally, very matter-of-factly. It's just how things were back then and there is nothing I can do to go back and change them.
I think I saw a light come on in my daughter's eyes when she realized that there were things going on that she didn't understand, that had nothing to do with her, but that she took responsibility for and internalized at that young age.
We're having our first therapy session together on Friday and my daughter asked that I tell the therapist all that we talked about, in case she didn't remember to bring them up herself. And I will.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
sending a clear message
Last night I went to an Al Anon meeting and one of the members shared how she had lost her house because she spent so much money on rehab for her son. It reminded me of a tough conversation I had with my daughter.
*** I've debated writing about this and am still not sure I should. When I started this blog, I decided I wanted to be honest and open about what we are going through. I don't put this out there as some kind of example and I'm sure people will think I was horribly wrong for what I said. But I'm putting it out there anyway.***
The day that I picked up my daughter when she was discharged from the hospital, I said "Things are very different in the house now." She replied, "I'm sure they are."
I told her,
You have a clean slate with me beginning today but make no mistake:
I find out you are using drugs again and I will turn you over to the police myself.
If I find drugs in my house, I will call the police and turn them and you over and let them take you away.
I will not allow myself to be arrested because you use drugs.
If you get arrested for drug use, I will not bail you out nor will I hire a lawyer for you.
If you end up needing hospitalization again, you will not be going back to a nice cushy private hospital. I will drop you in the county system so fast and leave you there.
If you step outside the front door without me or another responsible adult with you, I will call the police and report you as a runaway and let them take you.
I am not going to go broke trying to keep you clean.
I am not going to lose my house and become homeless because of you. I am not going to let [your grandparents] and your brother become homeless because of you.
I have rules in my house and if you do not follow them, I don't know what I will do but there will be grave consequences. I do not like to make idle threats, which is why I cannot say what I will do, but there will be consequences and you won't like them.
I love you and as long as you are doing what you are supposed to be doing, which is going to treatment, going to meetings, actually working the 12 steps, I will keep a roof over your head, drive you where you need to go, and pay your medical bills.
But the moment you stop going, the moment you stop participating and working on getting better, I will stop paying the bills. You can find another place to live.
And when you decide to become clean again, and abide by my rules, then you will always be welcome back home.
*** I've debated writing about this and am still not sure I should. When I started this blog, I decided I wanted to be honest and open about what we are going through. I don't put this out there as some kind of example and I'm sure people will think I was horribly wrong for what I said. But I'm putting it out there anyway.***
The day that I picked up my daughter when she was discharged from the hospital, I said "Things are very different in the house now." She replied, "I'm sure they are."
I told her,
You have a clean slate with me beginning today but make no mistake:
I find out you are using drugs again and I will turn you over to the police myself.
If I find drugs in my house, I will call the police and turn them and you over and let them take you away.
I will not allow myself to be arrested because you use drugs.
If you get arrested for drug use, I will not bail you out nor will I hire a lawyer for you.
If you end up needing hospitalization again, you will not be going back to a nice cushy private hospital. I will drop you in the county system so fast and leave you there.
If you step outside the front door without me or another responsible adult with you, I will call the police and report you as a runaway and let them take you.
I am not going to go broke trying to keep you clean.
I am not going to lose my house and become homeless because of you. I am not going to let [your grandparents] and your brother become homeless because of you.
I have rules in my house and if you do not follow them, I don't know what I will do but there will be grave consequences. I do not like to make idle threats, which is why I cannot say what I will do, but there will be consequences and you won't like them.
I love you and as long as you are doing what you are supposed to be doing, which is going to treatment, going to meetings, actually working the 12 steps, I will keep a roof over your head, drive you where you need to go, and pay your medical bills.
But the moment you stop going, the moment you stop participating and working on getting better, I will stop paying the bills. You can find another place to live.
And when you decide to become clean again, and abide by my rules, then you will always be welcome back home.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
don't bother me i'm watching people's court
Tonight it is beginning to dawn on me how tired I am. Part of it may be due to the extraordinarily busy weekend but I think that the stress of being "on" these past four weeks is finally getting to me.
My daughter is packing to go to the residential treatment facility tomorrow. Even though the facility has thoroughly reviewed her history and medical records and accepted her, and we have preliminary insurance approval, there is no guarantee that she will actually be admitted. And we have no idea how long she will stay - it could be just a few days, it could be up to a month. I am looking forward to, hoping for, at least a few days of at-home solitude.
On the one hand, life with my daughter has been blissfully peaceful the last week. The medication is working and helping her sleep and keeping her mood steady. She has resumed some of her favorite hobbies (much to our family's benefit) such as playing piano and singing, cooking, and crocheting. We have actually enjoyed the last few NA meetings and had good conversations when they were over.
But it has also been incredibly stressful... Monitoring what she is eating; wondering if she is throwing up when I am busy in another part of the house. Checking several times during the day to see what she is doing when she is too quiet and occasionally making sure she is still in bed in the middle of the night. Ensuring she is not too bored for any length of time (which is usually how trouble begins). Trying to not overreact when she does something stupid, like spilling a half gallon of blue latex paint on the tan carpeting. Giving her the medication, planning our lives around NA and Al Anon meetings, constantly checking to make sure that I have my phone (so she cannot use it), and that all medications and other dangerous substances are locked up.
And fighting the desire to believe that she is fine now, that today it is ok for me to go back to living my normal, oblivious life.
So tomorrow, after I get back from the residential center, don't be worried if you don't hear from me for a while. Hopefully I will be in my room, the door locked, phone turned off, curled up in bed, mindlessly catching up on four week's worth of People's Court and Matlock reruns (yes, I DVR those shows).
My daughter is packing to go to the residential treatment facility tomorrow. Even though the facility has thoroughly reviewed her history and medical records and accepted her, and we have preliminary insurance approval, there is no guarantee that she will actually be admitted. And we have no idea how long she will stay - it could be just a few days, it could be up to a month. I am looking forward to, hoping for, at least a few days of at-home solitude.
On the one hand, life with my daughter has been blissfully peaceful the last week. The medication is working and helping her sleep and keeping her mood steady. She has resumed some of her favorite hobbies (much to our family's benefit) such as playing piano and singing, cooking, and crocheting. We have actually enjoyed the last few NA meetings and had good conversations when they were over.
But it has also been incredibly stressful... Monitoring what she is eating; wondering if she is throwing up when I am busy in another part of the house. Checking several times during the day to see what she is doing when she is too quiet and occasionally making sure she is still in bed in the middle of the night. Ensuring she is not too bored for any length of time (which is usually how trouble begins). Trying to not overreact when she does something stupid, like spilling a half gallon of blue latex paint on the tan carpeting. Giving her the medication, planning our lives around NA and Al Anon meetings, constantly checking to make sure that I have my phone (so she cannot use it), and that all medications and other dangerous substances are locked up.
And fighting the desire to believe that she is fine now, that today it is ok for me to go back to living my normal, oblivious life.
So tomorrow, after I get back from the residential center, don't be worried if you don't hear from me for a while. Hopefully I will be in my room, the door locked, phone turned off, curled up in bed, mindlessly catching up on four week's worth of People's Court and Matlock reruns (yes, I DVR those shows).
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
a new parents' support group
Last night we (my ex-husband and I) checked out a parents' support group for parents who have or had their kids treated at this residential treatment facility over in the next county. I thought it was a very positive experience and the parents there had nothing but positive things to say about the program.
The Ex has been very reluctant about treatment for our daughter. He is not convinced that she has done drugs or has an eating disorder. He wants to believe that she is just saying all these things to create drama, to manipulate us. But I think he is finally accepting the fact that even if she is "just" lying as he thinks, that is indicative of very serious emotional and behavioral problems. Problems we are not equipped to handle.
One of the huge benefits of the meeting was that he was able to hear things from other parents that he has not been able to hear from me. As they talked about their kids, we heard echoes of what we have been experiencing with our daughter the past three years. And we got a glimpse of our future if we don't get this under control.
When we mentioned that our daughter was 14, one of the parents said "Its good that you caught this early" and I laughed out loud. Not because I thought she was an idiot but because, as ridiculous as that statement sounds, I totally believe it and agree with her. And I think only the parent of an addicted child can understand that.
I hope to put her into the program tomorrow but The Ex is still holding out. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
The Ex has been very reluctant about treatment for our daughter. He is not convinced that she has done drugs or has an eating disorder. He wants to believe that she is just saying all these things to create drama, to manipulate us. But I think he is finally accepting the fact that even if she is "just" lying as he thinks, that is indicative of very serious emotional and behavioral problems. Problems we are not equipped to handle.
One of the huge benefits of the meeting was that he was able to hear things from other parents that he has not been able to hear from me. As they talked about their kids, we heard echoes of what we have been experiencing with our daughter the past three years. And we got a glimpse of our future if we don't get this under control.
When we mentioned that our daughter was 14, one of the parents said "Its good that you caught this early" and I laughed out loud. Not because I thought she was an idiot but because, as ridiculous as that statement sounds, I totally believe it and agree with her. And I think only the parent of an addicted child can understand that.
I hope to put her into the program tomorrow but The Ex is still holding out. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
can i give you some advice?
It never ceases to amaze me how people are so eager to give you advice when it comes to parenting. It does not matter that
So can I give you some advice? If you know someone in crisis, and they aren't in immediate danger, keep your advice to yourself. Shut up and just listen. Hold my hand. Hug me. Make compassionate, comforting noises. But keep your advice to yourself.
I don't care that your brother-in-law's godmother's nephew's girlfriend went through the exact same thing. I don't care how they got through it. I don't care what they did to resolve it.
I don't need to know that you think I brought this on myself. That I was a terrible parent for not seeing the signs. That I made and am continuing to make all the wrong decisions.
You don't have to tell me that I need to do something. That I am in denial. That I am being selfish or not thinking clearly. Or that my attitude sucks.
I don't care if you think my child's therapist is crazy. Or that our case isn't "that bad." Or that you are questioning the validity or appropriateness of what we have been told to do or has been prescribed. Even if I ask for your opinion, unless you are a trained professional in the exact area in which I am suffering, keep it to yourself.
The best thing you can do is to listen, to encourage me to cry and vent and get my frustrations out. And to keep your advice to yourself.
- they do not have children or
- their children are much younger than mine or
- that they have never experienced what I am going through or
- that they have zero training or professional experience in the thing with which I am dealing.
So can I give you some advice? If you know someone in crisis, and they aren't in immediate danger, keep your advice to yourself. Shut up and just listen. Hold my hand. Hug me. Make compassionate, comforting noises. But keep your advice to yourself.
I don't care that your brother-in-law's godmother's nephew's girlfriend went through the exact same thing. I don't care how they got through it. I don't care what they did to resolve it.
I don't need to know that you think I brought this on myself. That I was a terrible parent for not seeing the signs. That I made and am continuing to make all the wrong decisions.
You don't have to tell me that I need to do something. That I am in denial. That I am being selfish or not thinking clearly. Or that my attitude sucks.
I don't care if you think my child's therapist is crazy. Or that our case isn't "that bad." Or that you are questioning the validity or appropriateness of what we have been told to do or has been prescribed. Even if I ask for your opinion, unless you are a trained professional in the exact area in which I am suffering, keep it to yourself.
The best thing you can do is to listen, to encourage me to cry and vent and get my frustrations out. And to keep your advice to yourself.
this wasn't supposed to happen
Recently my 14 year old daughter attempted suicide. It was the second time in two years. The first time she said she wasn't really trying to kill herself; she just wanted the pain to stop. This time she couldn't say that as evidenced by the fact that she took a handful of prescription pills and she had no idea what they were for or the effect they would have.
In the aftermath, it has come out that she started drinking alcohol as early as age 11 and she is now addicted to drugs. She has been promiscuous, as in multiple partners. And she has eating disorders. With an "s." As in more than one. Did I mention that she is 14?
I'm doing everything "the professionals" tell me to do. Child Protective Services came to my home and interviewed me and my son. We are going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings 2-3 times a week. I have found an Al Anon meeting and am trying to go at least once a week. I journal. I read my Al Anon devotionals. I try to keep my daughter busy and even-keeled (made a whole lot easier by her anti-psychotic prescription meds).
And I ask, how did this happen? How did we end up here?
In the aftermath, it has come out that she started drinking alcohol as early as age 11 and she is now addicted to drugs. She has been promiscuous, as in multiple partners. And she has eating disorders. With an "s." As in more than one. Did I mention that she is 14?
I'm doing everything "the professionals" tell me to do. Child Protective Services came to my home and interviewed me and my son. We are going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings 2-3 times a week. I have found an Al Anon meeting and am trying to go at least once a week. I journal. I read my Al Anon devotionals. I try to keep my daughter busy and even-keeled (made a whole lot easier by her anti-psychotic prescription meds).
And I ask, how did this happen? How did we end up here?
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