Therapist

This morning Daughter and I went to see Therapist. When Daughter came in, she drew an amazing picture of what she had learned. She is buried deep in a box filled with b--- s---. She got herself in it by lying and trying to hurt herself. She keeps herself in it with angry words and saying things like "I don't care." It is her fault that she is in the box. She made the choices, and I had nothing to do with it. Guilt keeps pulling her back down.

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To get out, she needs to offer me a genuine apology. That's going to be hard. She feels guilty because she took insulin all those times and caused me to worry and think it was my fault. I haven't done anything wrong. When she decides to come out, she can begin climbing a ladder to get back into the light. She knows she needs to apologize to the family, as well, because her actions have hurt many people.

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Hopefully, she will be ready to offer me that apology soon. She's going to write it, because that is easier than saying it to me. For it be genuine, she needs to acknowledge how she has hurt me. She also needs to show me that she is sorry by her actions.

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All of this came from Daughter. Therapist just asked questions and encouraged. After she finished her picture, she came and knelt in front of my and hugged me for a very long time. She just went upstairs, and hopefully that was for the purpose of writing me that letter of apology. Tomorrow I will send her back to the workshop.

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Therapist and I are going to sit down with Daughter's team at the workshop again to go over the importance of structuring her time. Therapist called Case Manager while I was there, but Case Manager has not gotten back to us. We think the workshop is worried right now.

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I'm still tired. Perpetually tired. No amount of sleep is enough right now. But in the midst of the struggles of Lent, there is always the promise of Easter. That promise will keep me going.