Will they really be fine?
I found out today that 'B' has not been 'sectioned' but is receiving voluntary treatment. I have to say I am more than a little disappointed, no, I'm actually terrified for her.
I knew it was too good to be true.
Of course, it's perfectly possible that she is willing to have therapy and is not gonna buck the system? Doubtful though, I feel. She always manages to switch on a little bit of 'normal' at the last minute!
Saved by the bell!!!
I have to say her survival instincts are still pretty good!
She's a very, very clever girl and we've been here before, many times. With our 'B' you've got to understand she will outwit you time and time again and say what she knows you want to hear, almost parrot fashion. She will blame anyone and anything rather than accept that its she herself that desperately needs help. You have to spend a lot of time with her to understand the issues. This generally doesn't happen. Professionals are under pressure and the clock is ticking!
This is a well educated girl with a severe chemical imbalance.
Not an imbecile!
I know, but do they?
Once rock bottom is in sight, she bounces back like a spring board and it foxes the Psychiatrists, time and time again.
If only the system worked that information was shared and linked cohesively! Wouldn't that be a wonderful thing and make total sense?
Why don't they read her file back to front?
I really don't understand it!
I'm more than 4000 miles away and relying on my mother to let me know what's what. It's not ideal, I know. I've simply advised her to not get too involved this, but to meet with her care team, state her/our concerns and walk away. The stress is too much for her.
If I was near by, I would probably have tried to help her again. So, in some ways it is probably a good thing that I'm not. I have thrown a lot of time and money at her over the years to resolve her lack of mental, physical and financial control. It never helps. It's a rollercoaster of a situation, always on the edge of being completely derailed and it's exhausting.
I had to make a choice to live my life and make sure my other children could live theirs. Sounds selfish I know. I suppose it is.
It's called survival.
I can't live with her or her with me because I am one of her biggest triggers. I trigger the monster within. Yes, she loves me and I love her but we can't coexist in any comfortable or safe form. I can't risk the anger or violence anymore. It's the same issue for her Dad and siblings. I also don't want my Mum putting herself in harms way either. I know she gets frightened. Recently, my Mum was handling her finances but it went horribly wrong. 'B' reported my dear Mama to the police and accused her of stealing. Of course she was doing no such thing!
The DWP gave 'B' back control and of course she couldn't manage it. Instead she bought rubbish off the internet and starved her cats. She lived in absolute poverty, even though I sent food and money. Choosing to shop shit on Amazon all day when her voices tell her too, is not gonna keep her warm, fed and safe, is it!
The bills of course were not paid.
It's an impossible situation.
Where's the fail safe?
When is enough, enough?
When does the protection actually kick in?
My brother said today that she'd possibly have to have stabbed herself or someone else half to death, before she and others are protected. I believe after the fact is way too late to save someone don't you? I sincerely hope he's wrong, but in my heart of hearts I do know it is impossible situation to resolve to any degree of satisfaction.
The place where she is now, believes it can teach her to manage her health and her money. Don't they think we've tried?
I think we all know how this will go?
She will go back into the community and she will fail at life again.
Not her fault.
The Mental Health System is set up to let us all fail her. In some ways I expected this to happen. I mean, we've been fighting for so long with no help, why would it be any different now?
Our family has been through a lot collectively and I really, really wanted to talk to you all about how traumatic SCHIZOPHRENIA has been for my family, in detail.
You see, many people believe the person with it has the toughest job. I must agree that it isn't a joy ride for 'B' and she has often suffered needlessly, at the mercy of her confused mind. There's no doubt she is often frightened, deluded, paranoid or simply lost. The thing is there is more than one victim in this horror story and whilst 'B' may not remember how it's been, we do. We are all scarred for life.
It won't be a great read going backwards I can assure you. Not for her and not for us.
When 'B' respects the need for regular medication, she has moments of clear vision and the taste of normal thought, but it ever lasts. Unmedicated and she is a black cloud, angry and unhinged. The real 'B' is a beautiful soul.
I get it, sort of. Respiridone is an awful drug. In order to switch off some of the confusion, it dulls her into oblivion. Her shoulders sink and her eyes glaze. She becomes sleepy and docile. She knows it cuts off her life force and is unwilling to take it.
There's no doubt we need to plow some money into research! We need better drugs and therapy and we need them yesterday!
We will get there in the end I hope.
We must never loose hope.
Still, little is said about how mental illness affects each any everyone around it, young and old. Normal life, struggles to survive under the weight of the most stigmatized of all the mental illnesses.
I'm just not ready to talk.
I/we are still grieving, hurting and battling for her daily. Also fighting for the mental health system to help us all!
No one is listening.
When I begin to think about the past, I can't switch it off. The guilt of not understanding, not being able to help or fix her. Not being able to protect her or us. The lack of help. The ignorant accusations.
In some ways I would rather box it up and hide it at the back of my mind, to protect myself.
I've even developed a fear of GP's. The amount of battling I had to do, just to be heard but then completely ignored, has left me with my own issues.
My youngest daughter has had years of counselling, to make sense of her sisters mania.
My son struggles to believe in her mental illness. I struggle to believe that help is out there.
It really has been a black hole, pulling us towards certain destruction for years.
The hurricane in our lives that is SCHIZOPHRENIA, still rages wildly and unpredictably.
We feel powerless in its wake.
I promise I will chat some more when I feel ready.