Ok, time to get serious!
Yesterday yielded a phone call that was (surprise) not the best. My mother had taken her to therapy, since we all decided that it was not going well when I took her. Of course, on the way back, I got The Phone Call. My mom was mad; she had missed her exit and with my daughter crying and whining in her ear, it was frustrating. I know all about this; I have been going through these types of drives for years. So, I helped my mom get back on track and then got on the phone with my daughter. This call was not at the best time for me; I was getting ready for a psychiatrist appointment myself and also, I wanted to vote beforehand. By the way, I am an avid voter so this was important for me to not miss the poll time. Anyway, she was crying and telling me that I never listen and that she wanted to see her friends this weekend–you know, the same conversation. Now I am really not against her seeing this one particular girlfriend this weekend, really. I tried to be patient and listen to her. I feel bad that I am taking away her teenage years. This led me to think about the current situation that she is in. A situation that I am not happy about at all.
First of all, I have not been given the exact rules that the girl’s need to follow at the home. I have not been given a treatment plan, and it has been 6 weeks. I do not think that the medication she is on is helping her because the anger is there and is stronger than ever. This is why I feel that therapy is more important than medication, but they are not really giving her the type of therapy that I was first told she would get. What a mess! I have a meeting with a mental health associate that helped get her placed in this home, so I wrote a very long list of complaints. I feel accomplished, at least in getting on track about why I am miserable. I can’t wait to talk to her tonight. My mother has also scheduled an appointment with my daughter’s therapist at the home tomorrow and I am going. I feel like bringing the walls down around me. I swear, nothing has worked for years now. The only thing that has been positive about this experience is getting the knowledge of how F****ed up the mental health system is. This has caused me to change my major ( I am currently taking classes online). I am gong to be an advocate; a voice for those lost in the system. I know how frustrating it is to be a part of this-to be a parent that is only treading water to keep my head afloat. But the girls that have been placed in these homes by the state, well, they have no one but advocates to speak for them. This scares me. I want to be their voice; I want to make sure that they get what they need. It may not happen for a few years, but I know that I will put my heart and soul into it. A nurse that worked at a hospital my daughter stayed in for a while once told me that the reason almost all of the people who work in the mental health facilities work there because they have been affected personally in one way or another.
I believe that and, one day, I will join them in their quest to heal these young lives.
