DECISIONS (I CAN’T MAKE THEM)

I have a million things I want to do. A million places I want to go. A million ideas to put into action.

The problem?

I can’t make decisions.

I have energy in my mind but not the rest of me. The thought of taking a shower, doing my hair, make up, getting dressed, is exhausting. So I don’t.

I’m tired all the time.

Then there is the anxiety. The feeling that something bad will happen if I leave the house. The extreme worry that my Dad will get sick or have an accident. It’s not far fetched.

On his way to the post office 2 weeks ago the package he was mailing started to slide off the seat. He took his eyes off the road for a second to catch it. When he did his truck hit the guardrail, his front tire got hooked on it and he took out 200 feet of guardrail. Both airbags deployed, the 2017 $25,000 truck was totaled, and he refused to go to the hospital.

I had to take care of everything for him. He isn’t a people person and he doesn’t hear very well. He thinks you get further dealing with people by using his deep angry voice when my mother always said “You get more with honey than you do with vinegar” a concept he never understood all the years they were married.

Where was my twin sister during this crisis? At the beach, sleeping, taking care of the kids, at the beach, and sleeping. To be fair she has ME/CFS? She had Mono for a long time that wouldn’t go away, she went to several doctors and no matter what they did she was still testing positive for Mono and could barely move. This went on for a few years when she started having a specific type of seizure where you might not notice right away. She would just stare off at nothing but I noticed 2 of her fingers would flutter when it happened. It was harder for me to have empathy because she never did with me.

Lately we were working on our relationship and had made a lot of progress. But I needed her these last 2 days and she couldn’t be there. I understand she’s tired and feels sick. I don’t feel well either. I’m having problems with my kidney stents which is beyond painful, a fever, and headache that makes you want to hit yourself in the head with a hammer.

There’s something really wrong with my Dad. I can’t handle it on my own. He’s lost so much weight. He has diarrhea all the time to the point he isn’t making it to the bathroom. I also noticed that it’s black which I know means blood. He’s cold all the time even when it’s 90 degrees outside. He isn’t sleeping, his legs move constantly. His Primary Care Doctor is giving him the wrong medications.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I didn’t have a summer. I wanted to go somewhere for a few weeks just to take a small break but I don’t think it’s possible. Who would check in on my Dad? I worry about everything all the time. Even about dying alone because I have no contact with the outside world. Plus I quit smoking and gained 30 pounds.

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HOW MUCH LONGER?

I grow more tired every single day. My Dad grows more difficult to deal with each day. The pain medication mixed with anti-anxiety medication has changed his personality even more.

I find myself jumping at his voice and trying to make myself invisible when he’s around. I cringe when he slams doors and growls at the smallest things. I know he’s in pain but none of this is helping me.

Where are my siblings? My brother is somewhere in the state but I haven’t heard from him in at least 8 months. He never called to wish my Dad a Happy 75th Birthday in June and he hasn’t been by to get his mail.

My twin sister didn’t call my Dad on his birthday either. She called after his birthday or said she would. We are having a tough time. I need help with my Dad and she refuses. She lives 10 minutes away and doesn’t work. She did say that her “Mono” became active again and she had to rest. I then find out that she’s at her mother-in-law’s beach house with the kids going to all these events. Not resting.

My Dad fell out of his truck after dialysis the other day and couldn’t get himself up from the hot pavement in our driveway. I couldn’t hear him yelling my name. He eventually crawled to the door. One arm was covered in blood and missing the skin on his entire bicep. I couldn’t stop crying while I cleaned him up and bandaged everything. Of course he yelled at me to “Quit your crying!”. He’s my Dad, I couldn’t help it.

I can’t watch another parent die. I’m not healthy enough. My last stent exchange didn’t go well. It was done May 20th and I’m still urinating mostly blood (sorry for the over sharing). I also have a lot of pain in my back and pelvis. I know something is wrong but I can’t take care of it right now. My Dad is going for Injection Therapy on his back on the 31st. I have to take him. I hate the hospital he’s having it done at, it’s where my Mom passed away, it’s where I died for a short time when I went into Kidney Failure, and it’s where nurses commented on my mental health in front of me.

I’m tired, lonely, angry, disappointed, and keep wondering why I’m fighting so hard.

People go out of their way not to talk to me. It isn’t because of anything I’ve said or done. It’s because of what I might say or do. And that’s the worst part of all.6fdde65c60ad6b93a59fc21b54fa7621


WIDE AWAKE ROTTING

I don’t know why I blacked out. If it was the stress of dealing with my dad, the heat, me not feeling well, all I know is that I woke up on the floor.

When I woke up on the floor of my bedroom it was like I was somewhere else. I didn’t recognize this disgusting place filled with bags and bags of empty water bottles, paper towels, cigarette butts and ashes that had taken over the room. But it was my room. I had let it GET THAT BAD. I kept ignoring it or I didn’t want to see it. The shame of finally seeing what I let happen was too much. I had to leave it a little longer and remember what had triggered me in the first place.

I know I’ve been allowing people, places, and things said, get to me when I shouldn’t. I exist with every nerve ending exposed, my heart on my sleeve, and no protection. I always have, I also replay conversations and events in my mind that I feel were hurtful or that I deserved. (the key words are “I” and “I” am not a good judge because I am so sensitive) It’s probably one of the worst parts about it all, the constant film running in the background of my mind. It’s been the hardest thing for me to control or find coping skills that actually work.

Music, coloring, and research, work depending on the day. With an autoimmune disease, kidney disease, and medical disorders having to do with my blood that can’t be explained, my medications work at different levels in different ways.

One of my doctors believes part of my Conversion Disorder comes from watching my Mom die. Not just the horrible way she died in the hospital but the way she slowly killed herself at home.

She knew everything she had to avoid to stay alive, she knew everything she had to do to stay alive. I knew when she gave up. When she started staying in her room all the time, stockpiling food she wasn’t allowed to eat and not talking to anyone.

At the time I was working 60 hours a week and trying to maintain my alcoholism.

My mom was never thin but started to gain weight rapidly. This made it harder for her to breathe and put stress on her heart. Her bones were brittle and weak from chemo and radiation she had 7 years before. We were so lucky she even survived, most people don’t. I don’t know what it was that made her give up after fighting so hard previously.

When she fractured her back it was the beginning of the end. She would lose control of her bladder and bowels. She cried, moaned and screamed in pain all night long. Nothing we or the doctors did gave her any relief. They decided to do surgery even though she wasn’t healthy enough for it.

She made it through the surgery but the weight gain and immobility made it so hard for her to breathe she felt like she was suffocating. It was her biggest fear.

I now see some of the same behavior in my Dad and it scares me. It’s the opposite with him, he’s lost a lot of weight and does too much. He has old fractures in his back that he chose to ignore over the years. This time his sciatic nerve is being compressed so he can’t ignore it. He’s fallen down numerous times and doesn’t tell me unless I see blood and bruises. Yesterday he was stuck on the pavement of our driveway for over an hour bleeding from a large wound on his arm. He fell out of his truck coming back from dialysis.

He refuses to go to the hospital.

I called my twin sister to let her know what was going on and I might be taking him to the ER. She never called or texted back. Once again I’m left to deal with watching a parent die. Only this time I don’t think I’ll handle it at all.

My Dad and I are close. I told my Mom everything but my Dad and I have a lot in common. When I quit drinking for the last time he watched movies I know he had no interest in, same with TV shows, just to keep me company. He’s never given up on me. It’s only been these last 2 years that we’ve really argued and that’s due to both of our illnesses.

I want to live my own life.

I’m just not sure if I deserve to.

I destroy everything around me or they leave.


It’s Been Awhile So Get Ready!

After not really writing for awhile, I started to notice I was becoming more irritable, irrational, quick to anger, isolated and depressed.

I’ve always had a problem with confrontation. I avoid it as much as I can. This has usually meant staying silent when someone hurts me or says/does something I disagree with.

Eventually I will reach a point where I can’t swallow anymore B.S. and I reach a breaking point. Whoever is near me at this time suffers the consequences.

I can physically feel it happening. I hear my blood rushing in my ears, I lose my vision except for the color red or red dots and my head gets incredibly hot.

When it’s over, I don’t remember all of it, only bits and pieces. I know I screamed and yelled, said some horrible things, but I don’t remember the specifics.

I don’t make excuses for myself. I have tried to explain why it happens.

One of the most difficult things is when your loved ones think you aren’t trying hard enough.

When I had my last kidney surgery to change my stents, it was embedded and partially blocked with a build up of mineral and calcium deposits.

Your kidneys filter toxins from your blood and help keep your bodies chemistry in balance.

If you have 1 kidney working at 40% that has been compromised because the stent keeping it working at 40% has become embedded and blocked, your blood isn’t being filtered and your body chemistry is thrown off.

Now imagine you have an illness involving a chemical imbalance in your brain. Plus most of the medications you take go through your kidneys.

This would cause a huge problem if this went on for 6 months without you or your doctor knowing.

So when my stents were finally changed it was like starting over. I felt like I was mentally back where I was at 20 years old. My Psychiatrist didn’t adjust my medications even though he received all the reports. I was basically starting fresh but at high doses. All the medications that had been in my system I had detoxed from. One of the reasons I felt the way I did.

Starting over with all the side effects is horrendous. There have been times I just wanted to get in my car and start driving until I ran out of gas.

My Dad isn’t doing well and I’ve had to worry and take care of him. He has multiple disc herniations and bulges in his back. There’s also a compression at L4 and extreme spinal stenosis and arthritis. When I heard them ask if he knew he had several healed fractions I thought I was going to vomit.

He was too busy bragging about how many pounds of grain he can lift and carry to feed his 300 birds! He told me he got rid of almost all of them. He lied. Then continued to dig the hole deeper by boasting of all the other things he isn’t supposed to be doing.

I can’t chain him to his chair. He turned 75 on June 5th. I called and reminded my sister the night before. She NEVER CALLED HIM. On the 7th I called her and asked if she had called our Dad. She said she was going to. I asked why she didn’t do it on his actual birthday. She replied “He didn’t call me on my Birthday” That’s when the blood started rushing. In the last month she has told me 3 different times that she or her and her husband dislike my behavior and how I don’t take responsibility for anything.

I never see my sister and her husband. Since I had that 1 fight with him 4 or 5 years ago I’ve been kept at a distance. But they still bring up my “behavior”. How do you know what my behavior is when you’re never around me?

Sorry if I’m mad because once again I’m the one taking care of one of our parents and I’ll be the one that gets to watch them get worse and worse. I’ll be the one to either find him dead or watch him die at the hospital while you make excuses from 10 minutes away.

She never called for Father’s Day either.

I can’t watch another parent die.

Watching my mother almost killed me. I can still see her face, the nurses laughing, my Dad howling, the blood, like it’s right in front of me.

I remember her last words to me and that kills me.

I don’t want to do it again. But he never left me. I owe him. I know the rest of my family figures it’s okay because I’m alone and they think I’ll stay that way. Maybe they’re right and I should accept it.


LITTLE DEATHS AND SUICIDE SHAMING

The remarks made by an actor on Twitter recently about a friend’s suicide made me more than angry.

He thought his friend was “selfish” for taking his own life. After all that is what his spirit guide told him. I think he’s mistaken about what a spirit guide actually is. A guide doesn’t tell you what to think or do, they guide you along your journey.

If he was such good friends with this person why didn’t he see the signs of his friends struggle? I didn’t know the man but I noticed he was different. Maybe because I’ve been there.

Like in poker, we all have tells. Staring off while the people around us laugh and talk. Not really paying attention or adding to the conversation. Nervous habits like bouncing your leg up and down, tapping your fingers, constantly looking around a room. The smile that never reaches your eyes. Sleeping more or less than usual. Drinking more or using drugs more.

The man was an addict. I’m not sure why he thought it was okay to drink as long he wasn’t doing heroin. It doesn’t really work that way. You’re still self-medicating.

As far as reaching out to a friend or loved one goes when you have a serious mental illness that you are self-medicating with drugs or alcohol it’s almost impossible to do.

Each time I attempted suicide I was drunk. All I could think of was the pain, the guilt, the hopelessness. Every bad thing said to me played on a loop in my brain. “You’re a waste of space, no one likes you, no one will ever love a fat c*nt like you, you should just kill yourself, we can’t believe you anymore because you’re a drunk, etc”. There was no room in my head for the idea to reach out to someone. I didn’t even know I was Bipolar and had been for quite some time. I automatically thought I was worthless. I had thought this since I was 8 or 9.

The human mind can only take so much abuse. I could take a lot of physical abuse and I did. But it was the constant psychological damage and trauma that I couldn’t handle. I doubt most people could. My own family could only handle knowing a small fraction of what I went through and what I thought. They refused to hear anymore from my doctors. I still have to find a way to live with it all.

After 5 suicide attempts before the age of 27 something inside me stopped trying and just drank more. I finally stopped drinking 10 years ago and was correctly diagnosed as Bipolar with Social Phobia, Anxiety, PTSD and Conversion Disorder. Knowing about the mental illness helped me stay sober. Getting to the cause of my drinking went a long way.

I would like to say that I don’t think about suicide but I still do. It’s in a different way now. It’s more like I just want to run away or disappear. It’s harder without family or friends. It’s even worse when you have a chronic physical illness that is life threatening.

My twin sister has stopped speaking to me. It hurts. But she can be extremely toxic. Everything is black and white in her world. She didn’t call our dad to wish him a Happy Birthday on the 5th because she said “He never called me on my Birthday in January”.

First he’s 75 and your FATHER. Second, you never answer your phone and I know he tried to call and it went directly to voicemail which she never checks either.

Long story short I lost my temper for the first time in a long time. I even dropped the F bomb in front of my Dad. That’s how mad I was.

I’ve been left to take care of him and his other 2 children could care less. My Dad is stubborn and cranky. He’s now taking vicodin like candy because he herniated several discs in his back and refuses to stop lifting heavy objects.

I need a little vacation.0d806ffdc1b7a4766b4b545aeb74354b


FINDING MYSELF

I’m not a religious person. I believe in what I can see and feel. This makes it hard for me to find any real spirituality that fits in with what I believe.

I’ve researched Buddhism, which is okay but I would have to fake a lot of the positive thinking they have going on. I’m not sure my body can do Yoga right now either. Most of their concepts are hard for me to wrap my brain around.

I’ve researched Hinduism which is similar to Buddhism but not.

Paganism which can get a little dicey. My Celtic/Norse heritage which can also be a tough one. Shamanism sounded good so did Wicca but I have too many questions and I’ve never been someone who could “just believe” in anything.

I tend to lean toward the darker side of things. I know it’s unhealthy.

I do believe in animals and love to watch them and their behaviors. My favorite has always been the Wolf.

I also think there is something to the metaphysical properties in gemstones. I can’t dispute the research that’s been done the last 50 years or what’s been found that’s the same across many cultures and beliefs. Amber is has the same meaning and properties to Native Americans as it does to Buddhists. I enjoy working with real gemstones. I’m not talking diamonds. I’m talking amethyst, black onyx, agates, the less expensive ones.

I’m still lost and have no idea what I’m doing. I need purpose. I’m also tired of modern medicine telling me they can’t help me anymore.

My GFR is at 40 and my recent surgery didn’t go well when they changed they my ureteral stents. One became embedded which caused more scar tissue which I can’t afford to have. This means having my stents changed more frequently under anesthesia and having a breathing tube. Of course they couldn’t wake me for 2 hours after the surgery because my twin drove me to the hospital and decided to tell me exactly what she thought of me before I went under the anesthesia. When you have Conversion Disorder that can’t happen. The anesthesiologist was not happy with my sister. He had seen her talking to me before the surgery and he had seen me crying.

It’s been a difficult couple of months. I’m more tired than usual, my neck and hips are killing me and my social anxiety has been at an all time high. I’m used to physical pain so my neck and hips have to be bad for me to complain. I kept working while I had 2 herniated discs in my back with 2 bulging discs above and below each one. The only thing that finally stopped me was when I got stuck on the pavement getting out of my car. They thought I wasn’t showing up until I finally reached my cell phone and told them I was outside on the ground. lol

My Dad is having sciatic nerve pain right now and is the biggest baby I’ve ever seen. He won’t listen to a thing I say even though I’ve been through it all. I had 3 Epidurals, water therapy, a 2 hour IV drip of some cocktail to release the muscle spasms because I was shaped like the letter L and they refused to do surgery because it would cause a domino effect. But he listens to one of his friends who says he was kidnapped by aliens! It’s frustrating.

Other than all of this everything is okay.group-wolves-called_9ee7f18bde1c5374


TAKING RESPONSIBILITY AND TOXIC PEOPLE

I had surgery to replace my Ureteral Stents on May 14th. My twin sister drove me because my Dad has dialysis on Mondays. As soon as she got in the car I felt the tension. I was already feeling anxious and wasn’t allowed to take any of my Bipolar medications before the surgery. I don’t remember what started it. I think I started crying and it annoyed her. We also got lost on the way to the Hospital and she refused to listen to me. She wanted to drop me off at the door. I told her she had to come in and talk to them so they knew I actually had a ride home.

She wanted to valet park my car and I didn’t understand why when you could park yourself for free. She wasn’t paying for it. I always feel weird about valet parking. It’s a Hospital, you don’t need to valet park. This annoyed her further.

She didn’t want to come back with me while I waited for them to take me into surgery. One of the nurses must have said something to her because she eventually came back to sit with me. It was a mistake.

She was showing me pictures of my nephews. I love them more than anything. I didn’t know the older one spoke in front of the Mayor and 300 people on behalf of the Little League. They looked so grown up. Of course I started to tear up.

My sister said “You know you can come over any time and see them”. I looked at her with my mouth open. I then said “I have to wait for your husband to leave the house first?”. She didn’t answer right away. Then she said “Neither one of us like your behavior or how you don’t take responsibility for anything you say or do”. That was the beginning of the end.

The anesthesiologist came into the room to talk to me while my sister was there. He came back after she left. He asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine. He said he was asking because I have a history of not wanting to come out of the anesthesia.

Nothing went well. They blew a vein in my IV, one of the stents became embedded and encrusted, someone taped my top lip to the breathing tube and didn’t realize it until they pulled it out taking the skin of my lip with it, and they couldn’t wake me.

After 3 hours I woke up. The anesthesiologist came in again. He said that he knew I was upset before going under and that it can’t happen again. He said at some point I’ll stay under because of my Conversion Disorder diagnosis. When I’m stressed, anxious, or sad I don’t always have control of neurological functions. It’s scary.

All of this made me realize the people around me are not going to change. I have to change how I react, my environment, and how I cope. I also need to recognize toxic people and situations.

TO BE CONTINUED…..be5d9e9599909984881e21c7036e306e


TO MY MOM

It’s been 10 years since you passed away. It hasn’t gotten any easier. I still can’t bring myself to visit your grave. The rest of the family make comments about this. I don’t care.

You would be disappointed with us. I know you would. The petty fighting and grudges we hold against each other. Some things can’t be forgiven. You could always forgive and that’s why we loved you.

The one thing I had a problem with was your enabling everyone around you. I know it came from love but you never realized when someone wasn’t being truthful or sincere. Maybe I had been around too many liars, cons, addicts, and thieves so I spotted it easily. It would take years after your death for people to believe me.

There’s nothing worse than your family thinking your “too dramatic” or “making stuff up” all the time. One thing I don’t do when I’m sober is lie. Actually when I drank I was too truthful and that got me into trouble too.

When I first saw you in that hospital room I felt like I wasn’t in my own body. I was outside of it watching as it all happened. I didn’t feel anything for a long time. I somehow knew if I did it would end me. It almost did anyway.

Months later I found myself in the bathroom at work screaming into a bunch of paper towels. I couldn’t move or stop crying. All I could see was your face, eyes open and blank, bloody foam that wouldn’t stop bubbling from your mouth. All I heard were nurses laughing and Dad wailing like a wounded animal. I didn’t want to remember any of it.

Your oldest granddaughter decided to dedicate many tattoos to you and acts as if she was the only one who lost you. Her mother visits your grave often. Your granddaughter also decided to write me and say some of the most hurtful things I’ve ever had said to me.

She has replaced J as number 1 on my shit list. I’d rather be punched in the face than have someone say what the things she said. But she’s found God so I guess she thinks it’s okay to make someone feel like dirt. It’s okay to tell them they should’ve killed themselves because they are waste of space and their own mother didn’t love them as much as she loved other people. It was 3 pages of this crap.

I hope you don’t know what’s going Mom because you would be as hurt and angry as I am. Dad finally told me what you really thought today and you weren’t fooled after all.

You are MY MOM I took care of you and loved you. I think about you always and miss you often. I’m letting go of the toxic people. I don’t have the time to help people who don’t want to be helped. From now on I’m helping myself and Dad from time to time. I love you.11059761_10207494279902008_1407885758767048615_n


THERE’S A DIFFERENT GENERATION OF ADDICTS NOW THAT ARE HARDER TO REACH

I had the name of the street the apartment was on when the paramedics revived you. I drove up and down it for hours, holding my breath, hoping to see your face. I didn’t.

It scared me to read your posts on Facebook. I knew you were in trouble. I knew because we think the same.

The problem is this new generation of addicts with mental health issues think they’re the first ones to ever have these thoughts or do what they do. They’ve been raised to think everything they do is special and unique. I’m sorry but it isn’t. This is the problem.

Your parents think a week in detox makes you okay. You get out, they give you a big hug and send you on your way. They attend nightly meetings on how to “cope with their addicted child” while you’re back on the street again repeating everything you did the week before.

The mental health part is usually ignored or only touched on briefly because no one wants a child with a mental illness. A child that’s an addict is better. The shame of your child having both would be too much.

The parents created the problem. At least the parents I’m referring to did.

I offer my help multiple times over the years only to be told “No, she’s fine. Focus on yourself.”

This was my last time reaching out. My heart can’t handle watching a beautiful young girl slowly die any longer. I’m tired of biting my tongue and taking abuse from other family members for trying to help. So I’m done. I’m letting go.

I can’t spend what time I have left worrying about people who don’t want or need my help or even want me in their lives.

I laughed for the first time in a long time the other day. I talked to my best friend. The only one who ever really understood me. I had to tell her about my health and I wanted her opinion on making my twin sister my medical proxy. She agreed that I shouldn’t. If I can’t trust my sister because of the way she threatens me or uses my illness against me than I shouldn’t be giving her any control over any areas of my life.

I have the hardest time letting go. I have to get past it if I want to follow through with my road trip to Texas after my surgery. There’s just one thing I left to do and W agrees I should go for it. Granted W is a little out there like me which is why I love her. But she has always accepted me for who I am no matter what. d94bebff677aa86360da53bcc7ab03eb--addiction-quotes-addiction-recovery


I AM LOST

A Urologist is a doctor who specializes in the diagnosis and treatment of diseases of the kidneys and urinary system in men and women. They also perform surgery and treat tumors, cysts, and stones.

A Nephrologist is a doctor who specializes in the diagnosis and treatment of diseases of the kidney such as inflammation of the kidney, Chronic Kidney Disease, high blood pressure, and Diabetes. They prepare patients for the reality of dialysis and kidney transplant. They do not do surgery.

Patients with early Chronic Kidney Disease need to be evaluated on a regular basis to prevent complications from nephro toxic drugs, dehydration and low Vitamin D. Many prescription medications need to be adjusted with CKD because they build up in the body’s system.

Common eye problems for people with kidney disease include dry, red, sore eyes that feel gritty. This happens because of impaired blinking and tear formation causing dry eyes. Extra calcium and phosphate can also settle in the eyes causing irritation. Kidney disease can also cause pressure behind the eye making vision blurry. Low blood glucose also causes blurred vision and confusion.

My Glucose levels have been consistently low. My last 3 results from 3/16 to 3/17 were 64, 68, and 67. These were done without fasting so I had breakfast which included sugar, cinnamon, and chocolate and coffee with sugar and Mocha Almond Fudge creamer.

When I’ve gone to Nephrologists they tell me I need a Urologist. Urologists can’t answer my questions and tell me I need a Nephrologist or another specialist.

I asked if changing my stents would help with my fatigue and vision. The Urologist said my stents shouldn’t be the reason I’m tired and have blurred vision. I’m in Stage 3b of Chronic Kidney Disease which CAUSES CONFUSION, FATIGUE, AND CHANGES IN VISION.

No one knows why I have kidney disease and they are not lining up to find out. I can’t get a Primary Care Doctor because I have too many health problems with “unknown” origins. This makes me a “difficult patient” so they refuse to take me. Then the specialists I have complain because I don’t have a Primary Care.

SICK OF IT!

BRAINSTORM

I’ve been thinking about my niece a lot. I want to drive cross country. I’m thinking I should take her with me. I’ve been sober 10 years, I have experience with heroin addicts, I know more than anyone should about mental health, I’ve been where she is, she would be locked in a fast moving vehicle with me, she would have to be responsible for some of the driving, it would give her something to focus on and get her away from a toxic environment, I could leave her in the desert if she gives me trouble (joking kind of), I really feel in my gut this would be good.

No one else in family will think it’s a good idea. I can already imagine all the negative comments. She’s 20, I’m 45, I believe I can honestly help someone I love. I haven’t been allowed to do so for some reason. I don’t know if her mother doesn’t trust me or if it’s something else but it’s better than letting her live on the streets.

I don’t know how you could refuse to let me try to help but kick her out and let her be homeless. Another week where all I did was cry. I heard nothing more about the situation until she overdosed and it made the news. I’m sad and a little angry.

If it is a bad idea let me know. Maybe I’m delusional or grasping at straw.


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