Honeymoon's Over

Daughter had a major cussing, screaming blow out at supper tonight. I got a call about it from one of the staff members. She wondered if I'd talk to Daughter when she was willing to talk. I was out to supper at the time, so I told her to have Daughter call me, but to wait an hour. I said it would just aggravate things if she heard me out in a noisy restaurant having fun.
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Daughter tried to tell me she had to do what she did. I told her it wasn't acceptable behavior, and she needed to figure out better ways of dealing with things. She wanted me to come get her, insisting she was either moving home or living on the streets. I finally told her to take the cat Administrative Assistant made her, wrap herself in Grandma's quilt, and put her favorite Christian music on her ipod. I told her the quilt would be like Grandma and me hugging her, the cat would remind her of Kitten, and the music would remind her of God, and all of us loved her.
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I told the staff member to write up what happened, so the team could talk about strategies for dealing with the behaviors. I'm not surprised, and I'm very grateful that I'm no longer the target of these explosions.

Medication

At my first word this morning, Daughter exploded. In one of her rational moments today, she said, "I can't even control myself."
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She has been out of one of her medications for almost a week. It's med that shouldn't be stopped suddenly. She is taking it for seizures, but it is also an add on treatment for bipolar. I looked it up.
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The pharmacy that her home uses says my insurance won't cover it. They've been covering it at the pharmacy at the corner for over a year. I just sent a refill request to the local pharmacy. I'll pick it up in a couple of hours. Daughter was demanding to go back to the home, "where they really care about her." I'm going to honor her request. Of course, now that I'm going to take her back, she doesn't want to go back. I'm taking her back anyway. I have rights, including the right to feel safe in my own home.
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I have a cake in the oven. When it comes out and I think the pharmacy has had enough time to fill the prescription, I'll take her back. She is currently crying quite noisily and dramatically because she doesn't want to go back. I'm not crying yet, but my heart is breaking, and it will be very hard to take her there and leave her without shedding a few tears.

Thanksgiving with Family

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with Sister, Brother, Sister-in-law, Baby Nephew, and Brother's in-laws. Baby Nephew is the happiest, most easy-going baby I think I've ever met. He hadn't seen me in 2 months, but he smiled and reached out to me when we arrive, and then snuggled into hug me. He is 8 months old now, and wants to walk. He will hold tight to your fingers and walk all over the house. He also loves music and dancing. He brought much joy to all of us.
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The food was fantastic. Brother is a great cook. Sister was happy to get a text from her ex saying Short Niece wanted to go home that evening, so we took our pie to go so we could be back to Sister's by 8:00. That gave us the bonus of an opportunity to see Short Niece, who will be 7 later this month. She was very excited to see us, and was climbing all over Daughter.
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We got home about 10:00 last night. Daughter was furious because I hadn't made her bed. I told her I wasn't the one who wet it, so I wasn't going to be the one to make it. She yelled and threatened, then made it without the mattress protector. I informed her that wasn't acceptable. More yelling and threats, and then she tore the bed about and asked if I'd please help her put the mattress protectors back on. I did.
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I wasn't surprised that she wet the bed again last night. She doesn't wet the bed at the group home, of course. She saves that for me. When she came out this morning I was in the process of making her favorite breakfast: sausage gravy and biscuits. I asked if she'd wet the bed, and she acknowledged she had. I said, "Get your linens in the washing machine." That set her off. "I wish people would get off me about my bed wetting!"
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She apologized, but if she continues like this, she'll be going back before Sunday. I've had to lock everything up again. I like the peace and the freedom of life with her at the group home.

Practicing What I Preach

I keep telling Daughter she needs to focus on the positive. I'm trying to do that, too. I'm hanging on to the moments when I catch glimpses of her excitement about moving to the group home. It's hard to ignore the screaming and flying objects, but I am going to focus on those times when she is excitedly making plans.
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I'm going to focus on the fact that she's working on cleaning her bedroom, not on the fact that she intentionally trashed it because she was moving and wanted to express her displeasure. She is there singing hymns as she works, so I'm going to focus on the power music has to calm her.
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I'm going to focus on the fact that I put the futon back together by myself, and not on the back pain I'm now having. I had waited until today, thinking Daughter would help, but it quickly became clear that if I asked for her help in the mood she was in, one of us would end up dead.
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I'm going to focus on the reality that the end is in sight. Soon I won't be living with the volatility and the manipulations. Soon I will be able to unlock things. Soon she will just be coming to visit, and we won't have the conflict that comes when I ask her to clean her room or pick up after herself. I'm going to focus on all the positive things, and I'm going to rejoice.

"I Can't"

I told Daughter that the trash needed to be put out last night after Bible study. So on the way home from Bible Study, she started in. "I can't. I need to get my insulin and pills and go straight to bed when we get home. I just can't take care of the trash."
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"Fine. I'll do it."
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"You shouldn't have to do it."
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"You're right, I shouldn't have to do it, but it has to be done, and since you can't, that means I will have to do it."
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So when we got home I wheeled out the trash can, carried out 5 cans of leaves and grass clippings, and toted 3 recycling bins to the curb. When I got inside, I washed my hands and put away the clean dishes. Daughter pouted, because I took care of the work before I got her her insulin, pills, and snack. I wasn't done until 8:30. Any other night she would have been begging to stay up until 10:00.
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She woke up growling this morning. I gave her a pb&j from the freezer and an apple for lunch. There are times when I get annoyed that she can't get her own meals and that any attempts to get her to help around the house result in rages that do damage to the house. She's acting like a spoiled brat. This morning she told me she wasn't yelling because she was mad at me. I pointed out that didn't stop the fact that she was yelling, and that I deserved better than that. Emotionally it's easier for me to do it myself than to listen to her verbal abuse. Even when I don't ask her to do anything, she's verbally abusing me, just not as much as if I were to have the audacity to suggest she could be a contributing member of the household. I sure hope that I like the residential placement I'm visiting this afternoon and that there is an opening soon. I'm tired of living like this.

Foul Mood

Daughter continues to be in a foul mood. I mowed the lawn this afternoon, and asked her to sweep off the patio. She worked at it for a minute, then came inside and watched me mow, take care of the bird feeders, and do various other outdoor chores. When I came in she sat on the couch pouting while I put away clean dishes, put dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and washed things that couldn't go in the dishwasher. I dared to point out that she had a couple of lunchboxes in the car. She yelled at me to leave her alone.

When I finished the chores, I wanted to watch a football game, but I didn't want her here oozing ugliness. I told her she could go to her room or the basement. She informed me that was separation and we were no longer a family. She tried running away again. She didn't stay gone long, and since she didn't have her key, she had to call me and ask me to let her in the house. She apologized and retreated to the basement. She's downstairs watching TV and giggling. I'm watching football, grateful she's not in my space sucking the joy and peace out of the room.

Case Manager and I will be talking this week. We need to change some things up for her. The move will be hard, but it's time. I'm looking forward to some peace.

Safety Concerns

This afternoon I feared for my safety. Daughter was furious, and threatened to hurt me. What had I done? She wanted some chicken fingers. I was making some dip. I got out the chicken fingers for her, and told her she could have that or the dip, but not both. That was enough to set her off. I don't like being afraid. It reinforces the reality that she needs to move out. Sooner rather than later.

She ended up taking off, though she came back quickly. Then she ranted and raved about how much she hated herself and she was going to start hurting herself. I just sat here, numb. I suppose I could have taken her to the hospital, but I figured the threats would pass quickly. They did, but they left me exhausted. It's to the point I'm afraid to say anything to her, because I don't know how she'll react. This is no way to live. Of course, I find myself wondering how she'll do in a residential placement, and how long they will put up with her....

Peace

Daughter just left for her weekly walk with one of the saints. Today they are going to a special place. They will be gone longer and are eating a picnic lunch. I am very grateful. I will enjoy the peace while she is gone. She woke up yelling at me this morning. I wasn't even engaging her, and she was yelling. She discovered she was tracking mud with her hiking boots, and she started yelling.

Last night she finally started the increased anti psychotic. I took the prescription in Wednesday evening, and discovered the resident hadn't bothered to put a quantity on it. They said they'd have to call. Thursday evening they still hadn't heard from the doctor. They don't have the 80 mg pills in stock, and can't order them until they hear from the doctor. I told them to just give me a refill of the lower strength, which I picked up yesterday. They still hadn't heard from the doctor. I gave her two pills last night. We have enough to last two weeks. I'll email the nurse Monday and ask her to make sure they contact the pharmacy with a quantity.

When Daughter gets home, I think I'll let her hang out in the basement and watch as much TV as she wants to today. Maybe she'll yell at the TV instead of me.

A Better Evening

Daughter is definitely improving. She was more cooperative yesterday evening. She apologized quickly when she lost control. She told me, "Mom, I'm trying to fight it. I don't like it when I act this way. I don't know why I do it." There's still some paranoia. She still struggles with insomnia. She still has an amazing ability to rage. I gave her a sleeping pill last night to help her sleep. She was up at about 4:00 this morning and in the shower. She'd wet the bed.

I did some more research on the various residential options. The two we will look at Friday had much better licensing reports than the one I saw on Monday and am going to use for respite. They are also both much smaller. One is only licensed for 4 residents. On paper, at least, they look promising.

Today will be busy. Daughter has an appointment with Therapist at 4:00, and then I'm leading a new Bible Study at 7:00. I need to complete preparations for the Bible study today. It will be a busy day at the office, I'm sure.

Little Things

Sometimes I am amazed by the things that will set Daughter off. Yesterday she got home a little after 5:00, and wanted some ice cream for a snack. I told her she could have ice cream for a snack at bedtime, now it was time for supper. I was gathering the things I needed to put hamburgers on the grill as I spoke. She said she wanted a snack, not supper. I repeated what I had just told here. She was furious. She went into a rant about how she hates her life and she doesn't like riding the bus and she wasn't going to do her chores and stormed off to her bedroom, slamming the door.
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I went out and cooked the hamburgers. I called her when they were done, and she came and ate as though nothing had happened. She had ice cream for her bedtime snack. It's amazing the little things that will set her off.

Anger

Guilt and remorse are uncomfortable feelings. They aren't feelings you want to stay with very long. Daughter gets rid of them by getting mad. It's all my fault.

• I shouldn't have moved her from her real home in Tiny Village. That is why she took money from me, because I took her away from her real home.
• She's 24 years old, and she shouldn't have to live under my roof. She shouldn't have to listen to me, and she's not going to any more.
• I don't understand her. That's why she got in trouble.
• She needs to get on FaceBook and talk to her friends. How can I expect her to do any work when she needs to talk to her friends?

You get the idea. When she's not telling me how terrible I am, she's sleeping. I've mowed the lawn and done laundry. She's yelled and slept. In a few minutes she's going to demand to know what's for supper. I've also fixed breakfast for her. She didn't get up until 11:00, so it was breakfast and lunch.

It's too bad she has such a terrible mother. If she could be free of me, all her problems would be solved.

Sometimes I get tired of being the target. Really tired.

Different Rules

I discovered the cause of Daughter's high blood sugar yesterday evening: she'd stolen a box of thin mints out of the pantry along with those crackers. There were three cookies left when I demanded she return them. The girl scout cookies are now gone. I finished of the thin mints and the two peanut butter patties that were left last night.

I let her sleep in this morning, finally calling her a little after 10:00 (she'd gone to bed at 9:00 last night). She was obviously wide awake when she responded by swearing at me. She did get up, shower, and go for a walk with the saint who picks her up every Saturday morning. She home with a cursory, "sorry." She then sat down in the family room and watched as I began cleaning the kitchen. She was picking up on my frustration, and didn't like it. It's all right for her to swear at me, scream, throw things, slam doors, etc. It's not all right for me to be frustrated and allow that to come out in my actions-- no yelling, but I may have put some things away forcefully.

She stormed out of the house. I called her back. I'm not in the mood to go searching for her today. She told me I was scaring her. I told her she needed to go to her room if she wasn't going to help, as I didn't want her staring at me while I worked. She informed me it is Saturday and she shouldn't have to work. Except she hasn't worked all week. I told her to take the trash out Wednesday, so she emptied the inside wastebaskets and left the trash can sitting in the garage. She is refusing to do anything properly, and I've decided it's easier to do it myself. That doesn't mean I'm going to do it for her entertainment, though. I've already run the vacuum cleaner, washed dishes, and cleared off the counter. Next come the bathrooms and kitchen floor. At some point I have to go to the store today. I'm sure that will be a pleasant trip. I have to take her with me, since I can't leave her home alone. It's going to be a long day.

Time to get back to work.

Contradictions

Yesterday evening was a very frustrating one with Daughter. Sometimes the contradictions that are part of life with her are disorienting. Yesterday afternoon she sat in a chair directly across from me sleeping and totally ignoring me. If she did open her eyes and I spoke to her, she didn't acknowledge me or respond. Finally, around 5:00, she said, "I suppose it's bed time now."

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"No, it's 5:00 and you need to go to your room if all you're going to do is sleep." She grabbed her linens out of the dryer and went into her room, slamming the door to express her displeasure.

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About 8:00, she came out sobbing, "I'm so sorry for being such a jackass to you."

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"You are very good at apologizing. Show me that you are sorry by taking care of the laundry in the basket."

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"Screw you, Bitch!" She again vanished into her bedroom, slamming her door to make sure I knew she was mad.

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About 10:00 she came out, dressed in her her pj's to get her insulin and pills. I gave her some milk (she missed supper, and had the good sense not to ask for any at this point). She returned to her bedroom. I don't remember if she slammed the door.

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About 11:00 I was getting ready for bed. She came into the bathroom. "Can I sleep with you tonight? I have a reason, my back is really hurting."

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"I'm a bitch, remember?"

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"Sometimes I say things I don't mean."

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"How am I supposed to know when you mean what you say?"

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"I don't know."

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"As long as you are wetting the bed, you aren't going to sleep in my bed." She vanished back into her bedroom.

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This morning I went in and turned on her bedroom light. I was not pleased to notice she'd slept on her floor. I have told her if she wants to sleep on the floor, she has to have the air mattress under her because I don't want urine soaking into the carpet and subfloor. I pulled the covers off of her, expecting the worst. It looked like she was dry.

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I left, and she got up. She came out and told me she was dry. She even showed me her diaper when I asked, and it was completely dry. She requested a breakfast that requires some work from me. I gave her the option of 2 less labor intensive breakfasts, explaining I wasn't inclined to work on her breakfast when she was refusing to do anything around the house. When we got to the church, she volunteered to carry my briefcase in.

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I'm starting the week tired, for some reason.

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.

"It's Not Fair!"

The deal with Daughter has always been that after she shows me she can keep her room clean, we will finish decorating it. It has been painted, but she needs new curtains, and we've talked about new rugs for the floor. She hasn't been keeping her room clean.

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Today, we were in the basement working on cleaning/organizing. I was working in my craft area, and came across a pattern for curtains I'd purchased a number of years ago. I still have the original curtains in my bedroom, and they don't go with the decor at all. Off and on I've been looking for new ones, but haven't been able to find the simple curtains I want in there. Looking at the pattern, I decided I was going to make curtains today. I went and got one of my pillow shams and dragged Daughter along to the fabric store. As we were headed to the second store, Daughter informed me that it wasn't fair that I'm getting curtains and she's not. I reminded her of the deal. "Has your bedroom been clean for 2 months? Has mine?" She acknowledged that she hasn't kept hers clean, and mine has been clean for more than 2 months. I reminded her that when she kept her room clean for 2 months, I'd be glad to get her new curtains. In the second store, I found exactly what I was looking for. I came home and began sewing. On the hem of the second panel, my sewing machine died. I still have 2 more panels, 2 valances, and 4 tie backs to make. I will try to resurrect the machine tomorrow, but it is probably 25 years old, and I may have to replace it.

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Daughter has been in a foul mood all day. She took off for a while this evening, and when she came back in she announced she'd never forgive me for what I'd done to her. I asked what I'd done. "Call the cops on me."

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"I didn't call the police, because I knew you'd be back."

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Yesterday I made the enchiladas she wanted me to make. Today she was raging as I was making the steak fajitas she'd requested. She's mad at me for things I haven't done, and is not at all rational right now. I asked her what she wanted me to do. "Get me counseling!" I reminded her that I had requested a referral from her case manager.

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I know that none of her anger is about anything I have or haven't done. However, it's not fair that I am her target. Tonight, I am exhausted.

"I'm not Speaking to You"

The deal was that since Daughter was cooperative yesterday, if she got up with the alarm today I'd take her to the movie. She didn't get up with the alarm, but I called her a little after 8:00, and she responded and said she'd get up. A little before 11 I called her again, reminding her that she had a walking date (it was pouring, so I didn't think it would happen). She got out of bed furious. She has been arguing with me ever since, which takes talent, as I'm not participating in the conversation. It could be a very long day. She informed me she wasn't speaking to me. I almost hope that's the case.

Done with the Morning Battle

Daughter has been refusing to get out of bed in the morning. I spend my morning calling, threatening, yelling, pleading with her to get up. I usually end up leaving later than I had planned because she refuses to get up. She will ignore me, and when I get too insistent, she tells me I don't need to yell, she hears me, and stay in bed.

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After yesterday evening's rage I decided I was done with the morning battle. I called her three times this morning. Finally I said, "I'm leaving in thirty minutes. Got it?" She dutifully responded, "Got it," and stayed in bed. I was fully prepared to leave her home. I took care of some laundry and shouted, "Goodbye," at the bathroom door. She came out a minute later carrying socks and shoes. I was still gathering things to leave. She went over to pack up her computer. I told her I was leaving. She rushed to get into the car with me. She hasn't checked her blood sugar. She hasn't had breakfast. She's sitting at the table in my study chewing gum. She has nothing to do today, because she didn't pack anything and I wouldn't wait for her to grab her computer. I dumped her morning pills on the table, and she went down the hall to the drinking fountain to take them.

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We'll be leaving shortly after 11:00 to go home to meet Case Manager. It will be interesting to see how she handles this morning. I have to be across town at 7:15 tomorrow morning for a mammogram. I will remind her of that tonight. She has plenty of alarms she can set. I'm done with the morning battle.

Rage

Daughter decided she didn't want to work when we got home today. We had stopped at the store to get her an itunes card she wanted and to get things to make one of her favorite meals for supper. She was mad because I wouldn't take her out to eat for lunch or supper today. I gave her a list of chores, and she sat and watched me work. I told her she had to get off the computer, and she yelled at me. I went into a commentary that was heavy with sarcasm about how right she was to refuse work, since she had worked all day while I did nothing. I talked about how I never worked as I cooked supper and cleaned the kitchen. I heard about how I don't understand her. I was told where I could go. I was told I wasn't helping her and didn't care.

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I discovered she'd lied to me about her blood sugars all day, telling me she was low when she was actually high. Then she complained that her blood sugars were too high. Well, if I don't know what your blood sugars are, I can't give you the extra insulin you need to bring them back into range.

Finally, I gave up. I went silent. She started telling me to get off of her, and I wasn't saying anything. She got mad and told me to get away from her. I wasn't near her, but I took the hint and retreated to the guest room/study to sew on some buttons. I locked myself in there. She didn't like that, either. She told me it was safe to come out, and she sat back down to watch me work. I started doing her jobs. She retreated to her bedroom where she threw rocks at her walls. She chipped the paint and dented the walls.

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She finally went to bed. She got up a little while ago to get her pills and insulin. I'm exhausted. I hope we can get her into an appropriate program very soon. We both need a break from each other. We've been together 24/7 for over 5 weeks. The Case Manager will be here at noon tomorrow. I hope she brings good news.

Mean and Unreasonable

Daughter is convinced that I am mean and unreasonable. This morning we went for blood work and breakfast out. Daughter was wearing an orange sweater. When we got home, we went out to do some yard work. She changed into a sweatshirt and put a hoodie over it. When we finished in the yard, she came in and put on a t-shirt. She knows I keep the house cool during the day-- 64. When she complained that she was cold, I pointed out that the t-shirt wasn't a good choice. She went into her bedroom and came out wearing a white sweater. I protested that that was the 5th top she'd had on today. (Anything she has worn, no matter how briefly, ends up in the hamper.) She went in and put yet another shirt on over it and proceeded to rage about how it was her business what she wore and I had no right to complain. I think that Daughter is working real hard to get me to correct her today. I'm not sure why she needs to be contrary today, but she certainly is working hard at it today.

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It's not just all the tops she's worn today. She's also mad because I won't order pizza after taking her out to breakfast. I won't let her buy a new Halloween costume with money she doesn't have. (She's not doing anything or going anywhere for Halloween, and several years ago I spent a lot of time making her a pink poodle skirt).

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Right now she's retreated to her bedroom to pout. She's supposed to be cleaning her room, where the floor is littered with all the clothes she's tried on over the last 2 days. I'm sure they will all end up in hamper. I'm just so mean and unreasonable.

Turn It Around

This morning began the same way yesterday ended. Daughter promised she was getting up, but was still in bed 30 minutes later. She didn't bring down her linens, and when I insisted she do it, she didn't start the washing machine. She knew I was frustrated when she left. When I went to bed last night, I had realized there was a light on in the guest room (which is directly across from my bedroom. I investigated, and discovered she had left the closet light on and had spread the contents of a footlocker I had filled with her keepsakes and pictures all over the floor. I lay in bed seething for a while last night.

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The bus picked her up at 8:00 this morning, and about 9:30 I got a text. "I am so sorry."

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"Thank you. Turn it around."

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She then decided it was safe to call. I said, "I'm busy. I love you. We'll talk later."

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She hasn't called back. I feel like she's working against me. We finish the basement, and she trashes the guest room. She needs to be watched 24 hours a day, and right now I don't want her in the same room with me.

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I'm going to get some things done today, and my hope is that by the time she gets home I'll be ready to deal with her. I'm going to limit her opportunities for defiance. I will give her a list tonight. It will have her instructions for the evening, with a reward for completing them and a consequence for failing to complete them. She can then decide what she wants to do. Hopefully I will have my buttons well protected.