Mental illness

is pervasive and crosses all facets of human life. The Harvard grad doctors make their diagnosis and hand down their unkind verdicts to overwhelmed and financially strapped family members as they listen to what the specialists say. How do I cope? How do I fulfill my obligation as a parent? The helpless feeling that I get when I can't do for my own child. I can only take a step back, observe and listen. I have noticed a significant improvement in my second daughter, Pua, during this year. She is much more coherent, clear and a very good conversationalist. I haven't observed any suicidal tendencies and haven't noticed any more cuts on her arms. We are very close to where she would tell me if she has cut or injured herself. Her outlook on life isn't as bleak as it was two years ago where her mind was in a very dark place. A place I wasn't sure if she could get out from or recognize. With a very good mental health system at the Crestwood facility in Sacramento, they gave her the time she needed to grow into a young woman who today, is much more sure of herself. I am very proud of how far she has come. There were days during her teen years where I wasn't sure if she would make it to her 18th or 21st birthdays. I always had it in the back of my mind that a phone call from the facility or police station would be like a soldier in the military and the chaplain would drive up and knock on your door to give you the news about your child's demise. I would dread that day and to be honest, I don't want to think about it but it is always there in my mind. Pua, has grown into a beautiful young woman who has a lot on her mind. If I could get her to write her own blog, she would have so much to say as a young woman dealing with schizophrenia and depression. She has written very graphic letters depicting her life on the edge, the voices that she constantly hears, the cursing and anger in her words spewing venom on what is going on in her mind. The constant pulling and wires firing in her brain, the sometimes empty look in her eyes of one without a soul. The terror of leaving her at home with family members who did not want to be alone with her for their fear of her and what she could be capable of. I'm talking about my brother who is 5'11" 285 lbs and scared of his neice who is all of 5'6" 145lbs! For the most part of my visits, she is always supervised and I never leave her alone anymore with family members. Our visiting time is always together, shopping, restaurants and overnight visits. The only time she is out of my sight is when she smokes or goes to the restroom. She is not a flight risk and I trust her time out of the facility is doing her good. She is looking forward to getting her own apartment again, this time being a little older and more confident of living on her own. My daughter is a survivor and I love her.

I am missing you

With my weekend full of pre-arranged activities, there will be no time to visit Lynn. I want to see her and hold her, my longing for her is urgent. I am truly missing my soul mate.

6:00AM travels quickly into sync when I finally fall asleep at 4:30AM! My daughter, Pua, was waiting in the wings to be picked up from the Crestwood Facility. With her safely tendered over, we drive back to the hotel only to fall asleep, mother and daughter, to the sound of the Television static. I was restless and my night before was filled with thoughts of Lynn. We had a very constructive conversation. It has been a very long time since we've had a heart to heart talk on the phone. I usually prefer these talks to be in person with her and I enjoy the closeness that I receive from them. Because we don't live together, this is how we most often communicate.
Pua and I finally awoke after 11:00am! We were both tired from her big shopping day yesterday and an early morning today. Because of my Elite status with the Marriott hotel, I had a 3:00pm checkout time, I was in no rush to get home. By 1:30pm, we were famished and unknowingly missed out on the hotel buffet. We made plans for the local hospital cafeteria that she knew about because of their wonderful fresh and organic food. As I packed up the truck with my overnight bag and laptop, she finished her last cigarette in the patio of the hotel. I noticed a very cute young man talking to her as he opened up the door to the dining room of the buffet we missed earlier. All of a sudden, my daughter rushed over to me and said, "Mom, that guy said he's going to pay for half of our breakfast". I replied, "Pua, their closed!" "No, their not!" she interjected. Descending from my truck and locking it closed, we walked into their Bistro bar and lounge area which was still open. Allen, as stated on his name tag, whom we later found out in our conversation was 19, seated us at a table and offered us the breakfast menu. Before ordering, my daughter made sure once again that he was going to pay for half of our breakfast to which he nodded in agreement to. With her newly bought jacket zipped halfway up her chest and her ample mound of cleavage peaking out, I'm sure he would agree to whatever she said! Breakfast was ordered and quickly delivered as our conversation ranged from memories of her childhood to the present and the state of my health. At some point, we included Allen in our conversation and thanked him for breakfast. Before departing and receiving the final check, once again my daughter made sure to see the bill before paying it and walked right up to Allen and stated their agreement. Overheard by a woman whom we later found out to be his manager. She said to Allen, "That's such a nice gesture for you to pay half their breakfast. You know what? Don't worry, I'll take care of it!" About 5 minutes had passed and we asked Allen for the check, he said that it was already taken care of. My daughter and I both looked at him in amazement. "The whole thing?" we said. He nodded, "Yes, my manager took care of your bill" and he disappeared into the kitchen. Trying to figure out his tip, we both decided to leave a $20 bill for his generosity and hospitality. We thanked him again before leaving and asked his managers name so that I could write an "orchid letter" for their wonderful gesture.
Just across the street was the Crestwood facility waiting to receive my daughter. With tearful deep hugs, we said our goodbyes as I watched her being taken in through the last set of familiar doors only to be received by her friends on the other side.

"Stand by me"

"You are the quiet at the end of my day...
I feel so loved when you hold me.
I close my eyes and the rest
of the world disappears.
Then it's just you and me,
and that all I need"
Happy Valentine's Day - written by Jerry Leiber, Mike Stoller and Ben E. King

As I was rummaging through my piles of mail looking for my receipts and "to do's" for my trip up to see my daughter, Pua, in Sacramento today and I came across a musical Valentine's card that Lynn had given me last year with the above inscription. Yesterday, Lynn and I finally got a chance to speak with one another on the phone. Within our voices, the strain, the unconsolable hurt and anguished hearts were once again, put on the table. Dissected, examined and pulled apart, the intricacies of our fragile relationship. After many tears and hopes renewed, talking about our issues and missing each other, we took a step forward to reconcile our eight year relationship.
My trip to Sacramento to see my daughter Pua is always an adventure. She is a "diva shopper" and can stretch the spending of $50.00 into a 4 hour spree. Housed in the Crestwood Facility for the mentally challenged, she survives here in a sometimes chaotic commune of spirited characters where their smoking break is highly coveted over a long distance phone call from mom. I can only retain her for eight hours today and tomorrow. She is not allowed any overnight privileges until our second meeting and she completes all of her counseling sessions. That won't happen since she thinks that she'll be released sometime in January 2008 and be housed in a group home on the Peninsula.
With our shopping day at an end, Pua put her name on everything she has purchased to be inventoried and stored away until needed. With a pickup time for tomorrow at 6:00am to complete my next eight hours, morning is a few hours away.

Wake up Call

at 6:30am! Who the heck is calling me so early? As I rolled over to the side of my bed to retrieve my cell phone, it is not a phone number I recognize. I flip open my phone and on the other side is the faint voice of my daughter, who is whispering as not to wake someone else up! I answer, "Are you OK? Where are you?" She replies, "I'm at my friends house, can you come and pick me up in Millbrae?" Not ready to leave the warmth of my flannel bed sheets, I ask "Can't they drive you home?" "He doesn't have a car" she softly whispers. I'm thinking that I would have thought about all the particulars before accepting an invitation to someones home knowing full well that I don't have a car and will need a ride home. "Can you pick me up at 7?" she states. I reply, "That's in a half an hour!" I gave in, "Yes, but I'll be a little late pass 7". She says OK and hangs up. Groaning like a grumpy old bear, I slowly get up out of bed and take my medication. It takes me a while since I have tremendous pain in my right hand at the middle and index finger joint. Christ! I can't fully extend my fingers without wincing and grimacing at the pain. Since the lowering of my prednisone, familiar aches and pains are coming back to me. I don't like feeling this type of pain since it has already left me immobile a few times several months ago before I started on medication. I was helpless.
Throwing my sweats on is easier to handle than my jeans and t-shirt at this time and I was out the door to pick up my daughter with her directions she had given me earlier. I can't believe my life sometimes and wonder if anyone else goes through similar acts as I do.
I find her waiting outside of an apartment complex and she climbs into the truck. Right away she could sense that I was upset and apologized. I didn't say anything to her and we drove the long silent 20 minute ride home. Because freakin PG&E is working on my street, my driveway is blocked and I have to find parking on another street. Thank goodness the parking goddess was with me and I had to parallel park the big truck. Because of the pain in my right hand, it took me close to 6 minutes to maneuver and finally park. Nani took note of my right hand and asked if I was OK. I replied, "No, my hand hurts". She asked if there was anything that she could do and I stubbornly said, "No". We started to walk home and I told her that she could go on without me because i would be a little slower. She quickly stepped up her stride and hurried home. As I watched her walk away, I could feel that she was very remorseful about what happened. I felt guilty that I made her feel that way and wanted to let her know that I'm not well. Watching her walk, I saw an image of me thousands of moons ago, a strong, sensitive and independent young woman.
************** addendum ************************
Before leaving for work, Nani apologized to me for not knowing about my pain from my RA and making me pick her up this morning and I apologized to her for my ranting episode. With apologies accepted, we gave each other the usual kiss on the forehead and a big hug. It felt better to make up than be a sour grape all morning. I'm glad we did.