Thursday, January 22, 2009

Cooling her heels until February 2, at least.

She's still in jail.... In solitary, mind you, and will be whenever she goes in.... Because she got into a "fight"....

With.......

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Wait for it.

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A deputy.

Leave it to my kid! Anyway, apparently when she was brought in from her probation visit this last time, they had her come in through intake, and had her up against a wall for a search. A deputy reached around from behind and ripped her glasses off her face and she reacted instinctively (while loaded on God knows what drug) and kicked back at the officer..... About four of them jumped on her and she could have been nailed with charges for "assaulting a peace officer" but she went before the watch commander to refute it. He and she watched the video with the officer in question, about ten times, and he agreed with my daughter that it was an instinctive reaction she had to an attack from behind... And he said he would not add charges. He commented to her "you're a bit high strung, aren't you?!" She was like...."duh."


She has a request in to see Psych for medication. Now, THAT'S a first. Not sure if she is asking because of the positive effect that could have on future judgements or if she is finally willing to take medication for the bipolar disorder.

He yellow-banded her - which means she gets to be in solitary or in a double cell, but is not allowed in general population (30 girl tanks), so she's getting nice quiet time and she's actually glad it happened! Says she's not getting any new bad ideas, or new bad friends. I guess that's one way to look at it.

She was returned to jail to wait for the third set of charges February 2 or Feb 4th. Not sure which. So that's fine.... She's still trying to get into the Villa, a residential treatment facility. I faxed them her tax return yesterday - they possibly can ding her disability benefits from her last employer for treatment costs - not sure what's up with that, but if it gets her 90 days of treatment at an all-girl facility - let's try it.

The district attorney said he would not fight them on the Villa - he wants 90 days for the most recent violation of probation, but will take 90 days in a program that may help her get some clean time....

We'll see. I'm taking a deep breath and letting go. Will visit Saturday and try to be encouraging. The rest of the time, I'm digging into my Melody Beattie books and chanting my new mantra: "detach, detach, detach."


I will get better at this. I will get better, period.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Visiting Hours

I visited DD2 Sunday morning. DD1 and I went, and spent 30 minutes with her, face to face, with that damn glass between us and the horrible phone connection.

I wanted so badly to see her. I should be used to this, but I never am. The reality of her, sitting on the other side of the glass, tears in her eyes, in that blue jumpsuit.

Suddenly it's not "I'm going to see her today!"

The reality of "I'm visiting my daughter, the felon" sinks in again.

She looks "clean". The haze of heroin is not clouding her eyes and she sounds like herself. Her sense of humor surfaces and her pride brushes the tears away and we talk. We dream about the future together. I try to avoid making promises I can't keep...."no, you can't come and live with us when you are released".... and I try to focus on the positives to her.... "I'm looking forward to having you over for a cook out, going out for a family dinner with you, going to a concert with you, taking a scrap book class with you...."

She asks about her Dad. He has always said he will not pay for a lawyer for her if she gets into this kind of trouble, he will not come to court when she is tried or before a judge for any reason, he will not post bail for any reason, and he will not visit her when she is incarcerated. He will not budge on this.

I have a really hard time with it, because he's supposedly a staunch Christian and I know my Bible growing up taught me to visit the prisons, care for the widows and orphans, and take care of the sick. DD2 falls under two of those categories, since she is mentally ill and in jail.

I get angry when I see the pain in her eyes because he will not visit. I try to remind myself that if she were sober, she could see her father whenever she wanted to.

I try to also remind myself that even if I think his actions are based on being a hard-ass, proving a point, or just not being willing to be inconvenienced, that I can't make him do anything, and I can't be responsible for whether he does or not.

He loves her deeply. Its not up to me to judge his behavior. I'm only supposed to be concerned with my own. I feel that visiting her is something that is right and good and kind for me to do. I hope that it means something to her, that when hardly anyone else cared, Mom and Sister showed up. Every single time she was in jail. It eases my mind to see her, and it breaks my heart at the same time.

I usually hold it together and I did okay this time until DD1 stopped for gas on the way home. I don't think she knew that I cried while she pumped gas and got a snack.

I've had that sick, depressed, lethargic feeling and been weepy ever since. I'm going up to my sewing room now, to try to focus on something positive. Tomorrow is her day in court. I don't go, because the nature of my work requires me to be home, in my home office, distributing work that comes in to the eight women that work for me. So I will work, function somewhat like a robot, and wait to hear what the judge decrees. She will call me when she gets back to the jail day-room, tomorrow night.... or perhaps the next morning, if she can't get to a phone.

This could go from "released to reinstatement in Prop36 program and probation", to time upstate in prison, with lots of variations inbetween, which is kind of what I'm hoping for..... maybe some time in jail, followed by release to a residential treatment program..... perhaps that will give her time to work on herself...

She requested her old sponsor to send her Step 1 while she is in jail. That's a good sign. But I'm not naive. She's in jail. It will mean nothing unless she continues this on the outside. Last time she got out of jail, she got loaded within 9 minutes.

I wasn't able to attend the on-line meeting at The Second Road that Lou chaired on a recent Saturday night. But I was able to go into the chat room and back up the chats and read the conversations from the meeting I missed. Something she said about "surrendering meaning realizing that she might lose her son" has stuck with me.

I think I understand what she means. For me, I sort of think I have Step 1 nailed. No one is more aware than I that I can not fix this. Powerless is my middle name. I don't pray much any more, but the prayer I do pray, is that God sends someone into DD2's life that leads her back to Him, before she dies.

Not much else matters.

Her Big Sad

Saturday, January 17, 2009
(Written before I figured out how to have two separate blogs that don't connect, etc.... finally just got a new g.mail account which I'll never use for anything except this blog...)

First Entry

No one makes it through life without sadness, without pain, without loss. I've been lucky my whole life. I still have my parents. I had my grandparents until way longer than most of my friends. I had a really good childhood, a home where I knew I was loved and treasured. Even when times were tough, or Dad was between jobs, we were okay. We worked together. We supported each other. We were not perfect. In fact, far from it. But I really had a charmed life.

But all around me, growing up, I watched others go through bad things. Sad things. I grew up and got married and watched my peers lose parents, fight cancer, deal with family trauma and drama. I almost felt guilty at times, because I had never really been through anything horrible like some of my friends. (I had a short-lived (six weeks) marriage to a boy I thought I'd grow old with, and woke up one day to find he was gone. Still, not the end of the world.)

Now, I'm 53. I'm healthy (relatively), still have Mom and Dad. My second marriage has been to a "keeper". Our marriage is not perfect, but despite some near fatal faltering, we've worked things through, worked things out, and DH and I have kept on trying. My daughters are grown. I love them both so much.

DD1 lives with us still, at age 28. She has a college degree, a well-paying job that she hates but perserveres at, and she loves her friends, her life, her concerts and activities. She is sober. She considers herself an alcoholic, but has not had a drink in almost two years. She says she never will. Thus far, she has never used drugs.

DD2 no longer lives with us. She is a bipolar, alcoholic/addict. For eight years now. Our world as we knew it collapsed on her 18th birthday when it became apparent that she was using and had been using long enough to become addicted. Her drug of choice for a while was meth with some heroin on occasion. She is now 26. This last relapse, she went straight to heroin.

I thought for so long that we'd "fix" it, find a cure, get her the help she needed. During that eight years, she even had one stint of sobriety that lasted almost two years.

I guess this is my big sad. One of my friends has battled breast cancer. Another is losing her husband to brain cancer, probably way sooner we'd like to realize. I figure this is just my turn. I wasn't going to get through life without something ripping my heart out.

It's consumed us for so long. I'm sure my friends are a bit sick of hearing about it. I tried to hide the severity of it for a while. Then I got real (almost defiantly) talkative about it. Now I'm trying to keep it to myself more.

I am trying to get some insight from Alanon and Naranon. I haven't been to face-to-face meetings yet, but I think I may try some.

I have found blogs of other moms going through this. What an eye opener it was to find that there are so many of us going through this.... struggling through work, family and personal obligations every day while trying so hard not to focus on the fact that our child may be sitting in a storage unit somewhere with a needle hanging out of his or her arm. I'm not the only one who wakes each morning and in that twilight zone between sleep and full awareness, struggles with the question of what is wrong?.....I know something is.....what is it... oh, God... That's it. There is a physical thud in my chest as my heart stalls and then fumbles on. Is she still alive?

I get that first hour or so of the day under my belt and then begin to breathe a little easier, because I rationalize that the police did not come by to knock on the door to deliver that final bit of bad news. (For some reason, I think that kind of bad news would come after I've waked up, but before their shift change. This, despite the fact that they've rousted us at 2 AM to toss our house for evidence after her most recent arrest.)

Each day, I have sat down to work in my home office, after checking the "Who's in Jail" website for our county.

I'm not sure if I will continue this blog or not. I read many other blogs written by women in my situation. They seem to find it helpful to write, and they have met supportive friends, etc. through blogging. I think my goal right now is to learn how to obtain some peace, some serenity, some detachment.

I need to concentrate on taking care of me, my health and my personal happiness. I am trying very hard to squeeze out time in my sewing room, creating things. That gives me satisfaction and happiness. I make quilts for family and friends, but also I'm trying to make more of them for chemo patients, sobriety birthdays, etc.

I am trying to spend quality time with my oldest daugher who lives with us - what a blessing. We don't see eye to eye on some things, which is normal, but she truly appreciates the opportunity to remain with us during these economic times. She's talking of moving with us someday, when we find our "retirement location" and going back to school nearby, etc. Seems she'd like another degree! I say "go for it!" Education is never wasted, in my opinion.

And it is nice to have someone nearby who gives a damn and can check on us old farts!

Right now my youngest daughter is in jail. She is awaiting a judge's decision, upon reviewing her medical records/police records, about either admission to a residential/dual diagnosis treatment center at county expense, or more time in jail, or maybe even time in prison.

My crying jags are briefer. The pain is not. I'm just getting better at "stuffing it down". So there's the first entry. Every blog has to start somewhere.

So, Welcome to my big sad.