Interesting Evening

I fixed some of Daughter's favorite foods for supper. A couple of hours later she insisted she was starving and had to have another full meal. I pointed out she'd never fit in her clothes, but she said she didn't care, she had to eat. I offered her some cashews. She demanded other things. I pointed out that normally she likes cashews, and asked if she was rejecting them simply because they were my suggestion. She responded honestly, "Basically." She did end up eating (and being satisfied) with the cashews I offered.

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Then we sat down together to watch a show I'd recorded earlier. She was laughing and shouting in my ear, and showing great restraint, I didn't complain or ask her to tone it down. As the show approached the big reveal, she announced she had to go to bed immediately. When I questioned her about missing the end, she started crying and yelling at me to get off her back and leave her alone. I pointed out she needed her pills and insulin. That set her off. I paused the show, got her insulin, and she stormed off to bed. I watched the end of the show alone.

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It must be hard to live in her head.

The Big Duh

I'm reading this book about Borderline Personality Disorder. While the information isn't necessarily new to me, the book has helped me identify what has been triggering Daughter and some of her behaviors. The big issue for BPD's is fear of abandonment. Since we moved her to Capital, I have been much busier with my ministry. I have to face the reality that I have been less available to Daughter, even when I am physically present with her I am not as emotionally available as I was in Tiny Village. This have been very good for my mental health, and very hard on Daughter. The acting out she has done in response has pushed me further away from her, setting off a downward spiral.

I'm going to work on making daily time to have positive, focused interaction with Daughter. Hopefully that will help calm her anxiety. I am also very much aware that I am much less stressed now that the board retreat is behind me. That was taking a great deal of time and energy. Hopefully having that behind me will make it easier to give Daughter the reassurance she needs so desperately.

I'll Try

I remember clearly the counseling professor at seminary telling us, "'I'll try,' means, 'I won't.'" Daughter told me she'd try to make it a better evening. She's unhappy that I won't let her play video games. She's still very good at watching me work. I suppose I should be grateful she emptied the kitchen trash. Of course, once again she didn't put another trash bag in it.

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I looked through all the newsprint from our board retreat Saturday and summarized it. I'll email it to everyone tomorrow. There were several things I wasn't clear about from the notes, so hopefully others will be able to clarify for me. I have my first follow up meeting tomorrow afternoon. We'll be making plans to combine two committees. I also wrote a bunch of newsletter articles today. Administrative Assistant will be in tomorrow to begin putting it all together.

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Daughter's program is supposed to move into their own space two weeks from today. That will ease my stress somewhat, as I will no longer have to stay at the church as late in the afternoon, and I definitely won't be going into the church on Fridays. I'll be able to get a full day off again. Of course, that means I'll have to have the work done by Friday. It will be nice, though, to have that freedom again. It will be the first time since we moved that a bus will pick Daughter up and leave me home alone for the day. I'm looking forward to it.

A Letter of Apology

Sunday afternoon is always a low energy time for me. Sunday morning takes a lot out of me. We had a dinner after worship today. It was a good time to visit with people. I'm still tired from yesterday, so I had even less energy than usual. Plus, on the way home we stopped to pick up Daughter's prescriptions. Her medicaid is all messed up. Suddenly it won't cover prescriptions she's been on for years. They won't cover her diabetes test strips. Usually her prescriptions are less than $20 a month. Today they were $100. So I got home and the laundry was piled high. It's hard to keep up with laundry when Daughter's linens need to be washed daily and we aren't home most evenings.

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I asked her to bring me the dark hamper and bring in some firewood. It is very cold here today, and I wanted a fire as I sat and relaxed. She told me she would. Except she didn't. She complained when I reminded her. So I did it. So went the afternoon. She wanted to watch something on TV with me. Then she laid down on the couch, taking all the space and covering herself with the throw she supposedly gave me for Christmas, except it's never available for me to use because she's using it. I asked her to make space. She got mad, threw a pillow at me, called me a name, and stormed off.

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I continued to work on the laundry (the 4th load is in the washing machine now-- and there's still more to do). She pouted. Finally she came out and gave me a letter. It says:

"Dear Mom,

I am sorry for being a jackass to you. I did not mean to ignore you or not listen to. I will try to do my best to do better with teamwork and not to make you tired.

Let me take care of the rest of the laundry. Sorry Mom. I love you very much. I will prove it to you if I have to.

Love-4-ever and always."

She told me she wanted to cook supper for me so I could relax. I had misgivings, but decided to allow her to make amends. The dryer began to buzz. Daughter ignored it. Supper was okay (tuna, macaroni, mozzarella cheese, and salad topping). The dryer stopped buzzing. I went in to check it out. Then I asked Daughter if she was going to take care of it. No answer. She was in her bedroom. She'd snuck some ice cream out of the freezer and was eating it. She wasn't happy about being found.

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Oh, and that letter? It was just words, it didn't mean anything. At least, that's what she said. Then she wonders why I don't believe her when she tells me something. So, I'm taking care of the laundry. I'm cleaning up her supper mess. I'm going to have to take the recycling out if I want it to go out. I get to fill her pill boxes. I've been cussed out and called all kinds of names. Oh, and I'm even more tired than I was when she promised to take care of me for the rest of the day. She's in her bedroom considering how terrible it is to be my daughter. She starts with a therapist who is supposedly good with borderline personality disorder on Tuesday. I hope it helps.

Too Many Days

I am going to take Monday off. Daughter will be off for the holiday, and as of Sunday, I will have been at the church 8 days in a row. Tomorrow I will be at the church to help put away the Christmas decorations. Next Saturday I will be at the church all day for a board retreat. I'm loving what I'm doing, and am surrounded by possibilities and ideas. I also need a break.

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Daughter did not get up again this morning. She has an appointment with a therapist who has done work with individuals with borderline personality disorder on the 25th. I hope she will help.

What Goes Up....

Today Daughter came down, and landed hard. She was slow getting up this morning. In fact, she didn't get up until I asked her if I needed to start locking up the electronic devices. When she got out of the shower, she saw that it was almost 7:00, and she knows I like to be at the church at 7:00. She came out to the kitchen sobbing hysterically. Of course she was crying too hard to tell me what was wrong, but eventually managed to tell me that the voices wouldn't leave her alone.

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I told her I was sorry the voices were bothering her, and urged her to hurry up. As we were leaving the house, I told her to leave the portable DVD player at home. Her case manager was here today, and is getting Daughter in with a therapist who does a great deal of work with individuals with Borderline Personality Disorder. We discussed the voices, and decided that Daughter was hearing her guilty conscience. We talked about her romantic struggles, and she acknowledged that 50% of it is her fault.

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In response to Miz Kizzle's comment, here are some of the reasons why this is an excellent program for Daughter:

1. The program coordinator is a therapist and daughter of someone with Borderline Personality Disorder. She understands Daughter, and recognizes her manipulations.
2. The staff has been well trained by the coordinator on how to manage Daughter. She is not able to manipulate them, and they don't react to her attempts to create drama.
3. Here's how completely they get Daughter: At the Christmas party Daughter sent me a text asking me to come get her because she was overwhelmed by the noise and chaos. When I didn't take the bait, she tried it on the program coordinator. She refused to be hooked. Unable to find anyone to rescue her, Daughter began dancing. I received a picture message from the program coordinator telling me not to let Daughter tell me she wasn't having fun.
4. When there was a party they knew would be too overwhelming for Daughter, they consulted with me and we came up with a plan to keep Daughter from attending.
5. They minimize the drama by keeping Daughter away from her current romantic obsession as much as possible.
6. They have yet to call me to ask me to come get Daughter-- they handle things on their own, including the day she wet herself-- they gave her dry clothes to put on and kept going.
7. They are very low key about the insulin and diabetes. They haven't required doctor's orders, and are quite content to let me direct the care of her diabetes. I forgot to put the carb and insulin information in with her lunch today, so Daughter and one of the staff people cheerfully appeared in my office to ask for the information.
8. The system here looks at the complete individual: Program staff attends appointments with the psychiatrist, and the therapist will be through the same agency. The coordination is wonderful.
9. They recognize and affirm Daughter's abilities. They encourage her to use the sign language she has learned with the deaf woman in the group. She is helping plan the menu for the party they are planning when their new building is finally ready. They encourage her to bring ideas, and take them seriously. They praise her contributions.

This has been a very good move for both of us.

A Picture of Passive Aggressive

Yesterday morning when I got up, I was still angry with Daughter for laying on her bed Saturday afternoon and evening, refusing to do anything helpful around the house. I knew that I didn't want a repeat of Saturday, and that beginning my day by yelling at her was probably not a good idea. So, as I was finishing in the bathroom, I said to her, "Daughter, it's a new day and a fresh start. I'll be out of the bathroom in a few minutes and then it will be your turn to get in here. Got it?" She responded, and was obviously awake and alert. It took several more gentle reminders, and by the last time, I was practically begging, "Please, I don't want to start the day by yelling. Let's make today a better day. Please get in the shower now. Please." She got up and into the shower.

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Several weeks ago I told her that on Sundays I had to yell to get her up, we wouldn't go out to eat. Wanting to encourage better behavior and set down and collect my thoughts prior to the final push to get ready to the open house, I took her to her favorite restaurant for lunch. She was a little surprised, but I reminded her that I'd promised we'd go out if I didn't have to yell to get her moving on Sunday morning.

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As we waited for our meals to arrive, I made a list of the things left to do, and put them into 3 groupings. The first group had to be done first, and then we'd move onto the second group, etc. I began writing M next to the ones I'd have to do in the first group. I asked her to go clear the driveway so I could salt it and people would have a safe walk to the house. We got home, and I began the items on my list. I turned around, and she had brought up a bunch of things from the basement. Bringing up serving dishes from the basement was part of the second group. She'd brought up all the wrong things. I thanked her and patiently explained why the things int he first group needed to be done first. Reluctantly, she went outside to begin her work. I was busy working, and moved onto my tasks in the second group. I looked outside. The driveway and path to the door hadn't been touched. She was out shoveling the street. I kid you not.

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I went outside and patiently explained that it wasn't necessary to shovel the snow in the street. I pointed to the side of our double driveway I wanted cleared. I pointed to the sidewalk to the door and the porch. She offered and explanation about wanting a path along the curb. I said that was wonderful, but we needed the driveway, walk, and porch cleared first. I returned to my work clearing off a table in the garage.

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I went out to check on her progress. She was clearing the wrong side of the driveway. Once again I redirected her. I went about other things. I came back out. You got it, she still wasn't cleared the area I had indicated. Now there was maybe half an inch of snow. It wasn't hard. I wanted it cleared so I could put salt on the icy spots under it. I learned long ago she can't spread salt. I took the snow shovel and began doing the work I had asked her to do. She got mad and said something along the lines of me not wanting her help. I called her back, and patiently explained to her that she had won, she'd proved she wasn't going to shovel the snow. I reminded her I still needed her help, and reminded her of her next task. After I finished spreading the salt, I headed into the house. Daughter had walked by the boot tray and was wandering around in her wet boots. So much for the kitchen floor I had stayed up late to mop.

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She continued in this mode until a woman arrived to help with the final set-up. Then she was super cooperative and did exactly what I asked her to do. She went caroling with the church, and I had an hour alone before people began arriving. It was great fun, and I really enjoyed the evening. I think I will do it again next year. It was much easier in this house, which is smaller and has a good kitchen. I'm glad I did it.

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This morning I once again had the morning battle with Daughter. She will be on peanut butter sandwiches until such time as she decides to cooperate. She only had time for milk for breakfast. She was getting into the shower at about the time I wanted to be at the church. Wednesday is the last day of her her program until after the first of the year. I will be off beginning Monday. I'm not sure how much of a vacation this will be....

A Plan

Daughter was supposed to be home with me tomorrow on my day off. Since she continues to be oppositional and disrespectful, she will be in her program tomorrow. Today she will spend in the church office helping Administrative Assistant, or if she doesn't need her help, shredding old records.

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She had a low blood sugar during the night. Though she denies it (of course), I suspect she somehow managed to get some extra insulin.

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Today I have lunch with some colleagues. That will be a welcome break. Tomorrow I will have a day to myself to bake and clean without distractions. Next week she will be in her program 5 days a week. I am grateful.

Worn Down

Yesterday I was gone for over 13 hours-- except for a supper break, I was at the church. I decided that today I would leave the church after Daughter's program people cleared out (I need to stay to set the alarm). This morning, before we left for the church, I cleaned the kitchen. As soon as we got home, I started on laundry and making potato soup for supper. I told Daughter she needed to deal with her bedroom. It's amazing how quickly she can completely trash that room, no matter how closely I watch.

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I asked Daughter to deal with the laundry. She went in, looked at it, got mad and stormed off. So I dealt with it. I cooked supper. I cleaned the kitchen again. I folded the laundry Daughter didn't fold on Saturday, and put away the clothes she didn't put away on Saturday. Daughter came and asked me where she could put her spring and summer clothes. I said, "There should be room for those in your closet."

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"There is, I just want them someplace else."

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"Well, it's not going to be tonight."

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She stormed off, furious that I wouldn't help her with it.

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When I called her for supper, she ignored the first few calls. Once again I found myself sitting with my supper getting cold while I waited for her to check her blood sugar so I could give her her insulin. Her blood sugar had jumped up 100 points from the time we'd gotten home. I'd left the refrigerator unlocked while I was working at the sink. I calmly asked what she'd been into. She insisted she hadn't eaten anything. I told her I knew she'd had something. She got furious at me because I don't believe her. I know she's snuck food, and I know she's lying to me, and I'm calmly asking while she screams in response.

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I finally sat down to eat supper, and patiently explained to her that when I had to do all the work, I was going to be tired and grouchy and not have time to do special projects for her. She went back to her semi-clean room to sit in the dark and pout as I continued to work. She offered a couple of half hearted apologies, and was offended when I suggested that actions speak louder than words and she needed to show me she was sorry.

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I had asked her several times what she wanted for lunch tomorrow. We didn't have what she wanted, so she informed me she just wouldn't eat lunch. I had intended to do some baking tonight, but when I finally sat down after finishing the kitchen and laundry, I decided I wasn't going to start another project, I needed to sit and relax. She then decided she wanted to make a tuna salad sandwich for lunch tomorrow, and I needed to get up and unlock the refrigerator and pantry for her. I didn't jump right up, much to her dismay.

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She decided to come over and kneel down and put her head in my lap. I didn't immediately move my computer out of the way to make room for her. I looked at her and said, "You've been pushing me away all day."

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"I know."

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I'm tired this evening, and I'm frustrated with her attitude. I informed her I couldn't continue to work long hours at the church, do all the work at home, and get ready for the open house by myself-- I'd end up getting sick. She went to bed with the promise to make tomorrow a better day. Will she? I'll believe it when I see it.

Perspective

The director of Daughter's program is a therapist and the daughter of someone who had borderline personality disorder. She keeps reminding me that BPD is fear based. At first she questioned whether Daughter had it, but now she just keeps telling me, "It grows out of fear."

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I appreciate that perspective, but quite frankly, when I'm battling to get Daughter out of bed in the morning and she's calling me a b and dropping f-bombs, it's very hard to have much compassion. Very hard.

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I realized this morning, as I was engaged in the morning battle, that this move has given Daughter a great deal of power. In Tiny Village, we lived next door to the church. Most days the bus picked her up before I started work. My study was in our home, so many days I was working out of home, and if she refused to get up, it wasn't a big deal.

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All of that changed when we moved to Capital. I need to be at the church. Often there is a time I need to be at the church. That gives Daughter a great deal of power. She can mess up my day by refusing to get up in the morning. It means I engage in the battle rather than just walking away.

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Right now I can step back and see what is happening. I can understand that all the change has left Daughter more frightened. I can see that because I am more invested in the battle, it escalates it. I can see that I am giving Daughter a great deal of power. Unfortunately, right now I don't see a way to fix it. Sister Best Friend suggested I buy a water gun (preferably a super-soaker) and make use of it on those days Daughter doesn't want to get up. As she pointed out, her bed is already wet. Except, of course, the last 2 mornings it hasn't been wet.

Wow! Miracles

Miracle #1: There is a center in Capital that specializes in DBT (see previous post).

Miracle #2: They are accepting new patients.

Miracle #3: They accept our insurance.

Miracle #4: The newest member of their team is a woman with a special interest in 4 areas, 3 of which apply to Daughter: personality disorders, eating disorders, cognitive disabilities.

God is good.

The First Good bye

We saw Psychiatrist for what I hope is the last time today. She left it open that we could come back before we leave if there is a need. I asked if she knew any psychiatrists in Capital, and she doesn't. I asked her if I should be looking for a therapist who specializes in Borderline Personality Disorder, and she said yes. Dialectical Behavioral Therapy is a skill based therapy being used with some success with BPD. I was hoping she'd say I was imagining the BPD symptoms, but no such luck.

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In better news, I talked to the mortgage broker today. He locked in the 4.5% interest rate for me on Friday before the rates began to climb again. He had thought 4.75% would be the best he could do. I was hoping he'd be able to get me 4.5%, and so was very pleased at that news.

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Realtor called today. He checked for electrical outlets in the basement for me. The good news is that there are 3. The not so good news is that they are not where I'd hoped. I will be able to plug in my freezer, though, and there will be a spot to set up a TV and such for Daughter to have a hangout area.

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Things are moving along. It feels good.

My Poor Tongue

Daughter had an appointment with Therapist this morning. Fortunately, Therapist had an open hour following Daughter's appointment. We needed it all.

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Last Wednesday, Daughter began to ease back into full time at the workshop. It was the first time she had been there with Flasher for a while. She agreed to be his girl friend again. She wants to be his girl friend.

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I'm angry, scared, sad, defeated, you name it, I'm feeling it. Therapist did her best to frame it in a helpful manner. We have a plan: Daughter has a voice. She used her voice to get into this, she will have to use her voice to get out of it when she's ready. Flasher's name is not to be mentioned in our home. None of us (Therapist, Case Manager, Me) will talk to Daughter about Flasher until after she's broken up with him. It's her problem, not ours, and we will not be pulled into the drama.

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She knows I'm angry. She sat in the back seat on the way home to give me space. She can see him at the workshop, but that's it. There will be no enabling contact outside of the workshop. What happens at the workshop is to stay at the workshop, and she is not to bring the problems home. She is to be responsible and do her chores here at home.

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I'm going to have to get through the anger so I can relate to her in constructive ways about home life. Therapist gives the relationship 48 hours. I hope she's right. We talked about how Daughter is looking more and more like she has Borderline Personality Disorder. Therapist tried to convince me it's not that bad a diagnosis. She still has some work to do before I'm going to believe it.

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I hope I will still have a tongue by Sunday. I am afraid I may have bitten most of it off by then. The one good thing is that Daughter is going back to the workshop full time, beginning tomorrow. If I'd had a lunch packed for her, I would have dropped her off today. There's no point trying to protect her from something she wants. Having her gone 40 hours a week should lessen my stress level significantly.