Residential Treament Center?

'A' spent 3 weeks with her father and during that time I was a miserable wreck.
The thought of sending her to a residential treatment center entered my mind in the past and having no choice but to send her seemed inevitable. I had so many obligations to fulfill...keeping my family healthy and safe and being a nuturing parent was top priority. Before the rage of all rages occured, I had already researched centers and communicated with my insurance company. I was more than shocked when they were very accommodating and helpful in my pursuit to find help for my daughter. The one residential center that others were very pleased with was all the way in Texas but I was growing increasingly desperate to get the help and willing to take her wherever I needed. I have credit cards!! The only thing was, I needed a reccomendation from 'A's psychiatrist or therapist.

When I mentioned an RTC to the social workers, they made it clear that they would not make the recomendation nor did they think that it was an option for one so young. Their case was that 'A' was too young and was still in the formative years where a child needs the care and nuturing of a parent. My case was that she was so unstable that her getting nuturing from a parent was not even a possiblity. Her psychiatrist wasn't ready to make the recommendation even though taking 'A' to see the psych was becoming more and more of challenge. Talk about feeling absolutely vulnerable and hopeless. All that I could do was pray and have positive thoughts about our reunification.

Before this episode, I thought that instability would have been behind us and 'A' would have been better so I planned a respite trip for my husband and youngest to visit his mother in Florida. I have to say...that was the most miserable trips of my life. I was still an emotional wreck and everytime I thought about 'A', tears would fall. She called me several times during the trip, telling me how she wanted things to change, asking me to come home and trying to plan her return home.







It was during this time that my ex called 'A's doctor to have her meds decreased and then accused me of saying I wanted 'A' sedated. ME OF ALL PEOPLE?!?! I absolutely hate the fact that 'A' has to take such heavy duty medications and I've tried everything within my power to keep her away from the meds, and I had been very conservative about the meds/quantities but it's a neccesity for her own health and well-being. So, I heard from my family (because he called everyone in my life to lie about me) about his accusations and the fact that he thought that nothing was wrong with her and wanted her off her meds. When I say I had a miserable time....I mean I had a miserable time!!! I couldn't wait to come home---to insanity from everywhere but I just needed to be home!

'A's father was not happy when I told him that 'A' needed to come back home and his response was that he wanted her to stay with him for a couple years because "A' and I weren't getting along". He also went on to tell me of his plan to take her off her meds because "she didn't act that way with him". Well, that's bullshit! The episodes weren't as intense but he called me with her screaming in the background and him in a panic. He's told me of incidents for years. She even has called me to tell me of episodes. My response to him was...that I am the closest person to 'A' and as difficult as it is for me, I am the one that she feels most comfortable unloading her upon. I also explained, as her doctors and therapists have tried explaining...it would only be a matter of time before she began unloading on him. My fear was that he wouldn't be able to handle her rages as well as I have.

I was hopeful yet tentative when she returned home. I had rehearsed in my mind all of the ways I could avoid a rage by eliminating the word "no" from my vocabulary...because we all found out 'no' was a huge trigger for her. I think that she was home 1/2 hr before she lost control. I can't even tell you what brought it on....because there was NOTHING. She began screaming, running, throwing objects, searching for knives and clearing tables. My husband and I just looked at each other in disbelief. The baby started screaming and crying in fear. We had a plan that I would handle 'A' while he took the baby outside or some place safe. My job was to keep 'A' away from them and to protect her from harming herself. I ended up having to restrain her and during that time, 'A' spit at me, bit me and said some darn right hurtful things. It must have lasted about 1 1/2hr. When it ended, I looked at the bruises on my arms, the exhaustion from having to deal with her set in and I lost control and broke down in tears. 'A' put her arms around me and we hugged as tears ran down our faces. I told her that I loved her very much and wanted her to help me help her.

The doorbell rang and it was 'A's teacher of all people, to drop off some papers that I asked for. When I spoke to her after her visit, she told me that she could tell by the look in my eyes and face that 'A' must have raged before she came.

I was so exhausted from having to sleep with one eye open. My mind wouldn't allow me to sleep. I kept the monitor close to me and on high. Although 'A' loved her baby sister very much, her instability made me unsure of what she was capable of doing to her or the rest of the family. Things got so bad that I could not be left in the house alone with 'A'. Thankfully, my neighbors would help me with the baby when they were home but I couldn't expect or rely on them. I've heard about parents suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. I have to think that I was suffering from it for some time.