Some of you are already aware that in July, my friend's Dr. put me in charge of her care. At the time, she was suicidal and very, very depressed. She started electro-convulsive therapy ("ect") in August, and basically moved in with me for the duration. Her illness was so severe that her ect was extended out 3 additional treatments. I have done everything I could think of to help her through this; she has whatever I can give, any time, all the time. Her ect is now in what's called the maintenence phase, where the treatments are spread out over time, and therapy is slowly reintroduced to continue what improvement has occurred.
We had been making headway; her meds were starting to work, she was in talk therapy, and she was visiting her family on the weekends in another city. I was getting some time to myself from Friday night through Sunday afternoon, and things were starting to balance out.
Then, a week ago last Sunday her husband's aunt died. It wasn't unexpected, just very, very sad. About a month ago, one of his other aunts died, too...so it was a bit of a blow to him and to my friend; my friend, you see, liked these two Aunts-in-law very much. She wasn't talking much about it, so I figured I'd make mention of it to her Drs so they can work it through with her. The appointment was for last Wednesday.
Last Tuesday, she gets a call that her first husband's father had suddenly passed away, as well. Completely unexpectedly, and again, it was a hard blow for my friend. I tried to get her to talk, but it wasn't working. I was on my guard, but still, I missed the signs.
Apparently, while I ws taking my bath (which can be a lengthy process if I'm in need of some private time, some relaxation moments) my friend left the house, went to the pharmacy, and got an RX filled (all meds are under lock and key here, so she didn't have access to those). I got out of the bath, and there was something odd about her demeanor; something hidden and elusive. Something furtive and sneaking...I couldn't tell you even now what I saw, but I saw something.
I confronted her. She told me she had the meds, but she wasn't telling me where she had hidden them. She was in shorts and a tee shirt, her jammies. I tossed some of her stuff around, and she then told me "you'll never find them." Not wanting to continue this game, I grabbed her by the wrist, and told her to grab her shoes and socks, we were going to the hospital. She fought back, of course, but I'm a bit taller, and a blackbelt. I took a few hits but she couldn't get away...and out to the truck I dragged her, her shrieking and me tugging away. I basically tied her to the seat - there is rope always in the car, and I was crying the whole time. I had to tie her in; she's tried to jump from the car before, and I needed to be able to drive the car and not worry about her too much.
I called the hospital where she gets her treatment, told them I was coming in with her, and to get some people ready to help me once I got there. They were, and we got in right away.
Guards were posted at the door, and she's now so withdrawn I can't get her attention whatsoever. Of course, the ER staff saw the handprints on my face from her, and called the cops. They took a report, and I told them I was NOT going to be pressing charges, that they needed to understand she is sick and it was her illness, not her control at all. I got ice and ibuprofen, and she got ice for her wrist...she had some serious bruising from my hand there.
The Psychiatric Evaluator came in around midnight, and put her on involuntary hold...which means she was hospitalized against her will. The ambulance came about 3 am and transported her to the psychiatric facility where she remains until at least the day after Thanksgiving.
I know in my head that I did the right thing; the end result is that she's breathing, and anyone can do anything as long as they're breathing. She has been rediagnosed as bipolar. She will be starting new medications on Thursday. And I visit her daily, several hours a day. She tells me that I did the right thing...and again, in my head, I know I did.
So why...why do I feel like I've failed her? Why do I feel like I've fallen short of the mark, and didn't meet the expectations (whose expectations I don't exactly know...). Why do I feel like such a failure???
And I have been the conduit between her, her Drs, and her family for the last week, and tonight her husband, who is rightly scared, hurting, and panicky, went sideways at me, yelling at me on the phone for about an hour. I was able to not take it too personally; after all, he is experiencing some things which most people aren't asked to go through. His anger was misplaced, but he can't yell at her...so it was me. He promised me that he'd call the mental health provider he has on his insurance and get some counseling right away...but still, the poor guy. But he yelled at me....
I've been trying to sort that through for the last week...I am so drained, so tired. My brain just doesn't want to process information. I am tired in my bones. I can't sleep well, and about the only comfort I get right now is my cat crew. I go from one to the next for love and cuddles, and even Pengy knows something is wrong; she, surprisingly, has been in the Papa-san chair for the last - 4? days, letting me know she's there.
It's just so hard. So hard. And I feel like I've failed. I'm not sure what to do about these feelings...but they're really placing my head in a vise.
Thanks for listening. I appreciate that you've read this far, and that you've heard me. I so needed to be heard. Thank you.
Best-
Michele
We had been making headway; her meds were starting to work, she was in talk therapy, and she was visiting her family on the weekends in another city. I was getting some time to myself from Friday night through Sunday afternoon, and things were starting to balance out.
Then, a week ago last Sunday her husband's aunt died. It wasn't unexpected, just very, very sad. About a month ago, one of his other aunts died, too...so it was a bit of a blow to him and to my friend; my friend, you see, liked these two Aunts-in-law very much. She wasn't talking much about it, so I figured I'd make mention of it to her Drs so they can work it through with her. The appointment was for last Wednesday.
Last Tuesday, she gets a call that her first husband's father had suddenly passed away, as well. Completely unexpectedly, and again, it was a hard blow for my friend. I tried to get her to talk, but it wasn't working. I was on my guard, but still, I missed the signs.
Apparently, while I ws taking my bath (which can be a lengthy process if I'm in need of some private time, some relaxation moments) my friend left the house, went to the pharmacy, and got an RX filled (all meds are under lock and key here, so she didn't have access to those). I got out of the bath, and there was something odd about her demeanor; something hidden and elusive. Something furtive and sneaking...I couldn't tell you even now what I saw, but I saw something.
I confronted her. She told me she had the meds, but she wasn't telling me where she had hidden them. She was in shorts and a tee shirt, her jammies. I tossed some of her stuff around, and she then told me "you'll never find them." Not wanting to continue this game, I grabbed her by the wrist, and told her to grab her shoes and socks, we were going to the hospital. She fought back, of course, but I'm a bit taller, and a blackbelt. I took a few hits but she couldn't get away...and out to the truck I dragged her, her shrieking and me tugging away. I basically tied her to the seat - there is rope always in the car, and I was crying the whole time. I had to tie her in; she's tried to jump from the car before, and I needed to be able to drive the car and not worry about her too much.
I called the hospital where she gets her treatment, told them I was coming in with her, and to get some people ready to help me once I got there. They were, and we got in right away.
Guards were posted at the door, and she's now so withdrawn I can't get her attention whatsoever. Of course, the ER staff saw the handprints on my face from her, and called the cops. They took a report, and I told them I was NOT going to be pressing charges, that they needed to understand she is sick and it was her illness, not her control at all. I got ice and ibuprofen, and she got ice for her wrist...she had some serious bruising from my hand there.
The Psychiatric Evaluator came in around midnight, and put her on involuntary hold...which means she was hospitalized against her will. The ambulance came about 3 am and transported her to the psychiatric facility where she remains until at least the day after Thanksgiving.
I know in my head that I did the right thing; the end result is that she's breathing, and anyone can do anything as long as they're breathing. She has been rediagnosed as bipolar. She will be starting new medications on Thursday. And I visit her daily, several hours a day. She tells me that I did the right thing...and again, in my head, I know I did.
So why...why do I feel like I've failed her? Why do I feel like I've fallen short of the mark, and didn't meet the expectations (whose expectations I don't exactly know...). Why do I feel like such a failure???
And I have been the conduit between her, her Drs, and her family for the last week, and tonight her husband, who is rightly scared, hurting, and panicky, went sideways at me, yelling at me on the phone for about an hour. I was able to not take it too personally; after all, he is experiencing some things which most people aren't asked to go through. His anger was misplaced, but he can't yell at her...so it was me. He promised me that he'd call the mental health provider he has on his insurance and get some counseling right away...but still, the poor guy. But he yelled at me....
I've been trying to sort that through for the last week...I am so drained, so tired. My brain just doesn't want to process information. I am tired in my bones. I can't sleep well, and about the only comfort I get right now is my cat crew. I go from one to the next for love and cuddles, and even Pengy knows something is wrong; she, surprisingly, has been in the Papa-san chair for the last - 4? days, letting me know she's there.
It's just so hard. So hard. And I feel like I've failed. I'm not sure what to do about these feelings...but they're really placing my head in a vise.
Thanks for listening. I appreciate that you've read this far, and that you've heard me. I so needed to be heard. Thank you.
Best-
Michele