I have not wrote in a long time because mentally I could not handle it. Things had kinda quieted down with my daughter. Just in time for my life to implode. But I was finally on a good path for the last 2 months. For the first time in a long time I was getting back to the normalish me. Then tonight reality smacked me in the face hard. Reminding me that I will never be normal no matter how hard I try. Because I am the mother of an emerging psychopath. And there’s nothing normal about that at all.
My daughter’s facility sent me an email telling me that despite my daughter’s continued behaviors and obsession to kill me, they are still going to discharge her in two weeks. As we scramble to find a group home to take and once again receive all the no’s because she is too dangerous for each facility. The realty of it all has hit me wave after wave to night. During the last year at this facility my daughter has become more empowered and dangerous with her behavior because no one will hold her accountable but me. This facility actually made my daughter worse and more dangerous than she was when she got there. Yet they are saying that they have reached the end of what they can do for her medically. And that she no longer meets medical necessity.
Now in two weeks life as I’ve known it for the last year is over. Now it’s back to the hell I know so well. The ptsd, the hypervigilance, the insomnia, always looking over my shoulder. Waiting for the call that she’s either in jail or dead. Praying no one else will die because of her but knowing that we have been living on borrowed time when it comes to that. I can feel the darkness of this hell coming for me. I can sense the danger that is coming. The spidey senses that I thought were gone are back full force.
Yet this time is different than all the times before because she’s more dangerous than she was a year ago when she was put in the facility. She is no longer the devil I know. She is now the devil I don’t know but do know is capable of anything. And now once again I must prepare for battle. A battle I have fought for so many years. That has broke me in ways I couldn’t even imagine. To do battle once again against hell on earth. Not only with her but to fight a new therapist and psychiatrist to hear me. The fight of withstanding the emotional torture of all she does and that she does not care who she hurts. The horrific thoughts that will run through my head as she runs again. Not knowing if she’s dead or alive. Not knowing if she’s hurt someone. Praying to never get a call about either. My stomach dropping every time I get a call from a number I don’t recognise as my heart stops till I know who it is.
This is the reality that keeps hitting me in the face tonight wave after wave. Gripped by fear of the future. Utterly infuriated at how the mental health system has failed my daughter, our family, and society so miserably. Preparing to walk through a hell no parent should have to, yet a hell I know so well. Facing a demon that I do not even know yet is still my daughter. This is a nightmare that never ends.