Emma is still in the mental ward. She has been calling several times everyday, sometimes asking, sometime demanding that we see her. She wants us all to go to the beach with her. Anytime we say something that is not on her level of consciousness (i.e. we miss you at home), she passes the phone off to another patient or attendant.
Yesterday my husband and I visited Emma. She was very calm, very sweet, but still very delusional. She was not in the frame of mind to listen, and preferred to be listened to. She was not in the present, but in her projected future.
Her ideas are grand, and actually very wonderful. This was SO much better than when she had her first break, but still, it is bad. Her first break 3 years ago was a totally broken Emma so full of paranoia and anxiety that she didn’t want to eat the hospital food because they may be poisoning her. Her second break was scary because she did not want to live. She kept asking, over and over, “How will I survive, how can I survive?” That second break started us on a merry-go-round of different anti-psychotics from her perplexed psychiatrist. She went through all of the newer versions, to no avail.
We will be hearing from her attending psychiatrist today after she sees Emma and talks to a few of the other professionals that Emma has been seeing. Each has a piece of the puzzle, but no one has the complete picture. Each piece of the puzzle is so different from each other.
I see the part where our family was dysfunctional for her. And the pressure that we put on her to get a job was pressure that was too much for her. She wasn’t really ready for that next step, but she sure “seemed” ready. That, and my anger towards her was causing an antagonistic atmosphere in the household. I really needed help at that point, but I am the type that rarely asks or seeks help.
At the end of our visit, I did tell Emma that I missed her, and that I wish that she were back home. For the first time in that hour, she said something in the present. “Will I be able to bring my dates into the house?” My response, was, “We’ll see, Dad and I have to learn to accept that, so maybe.”
This morning, Emma called home. She has been calling home a lot during the day, usually telling us to come right now so we can all do something together, like ride horses to the beach. She sounded calm, and still delusional. Still passing the phone on if I brought up anything other than what she was wanted to talk about.
There is a big difference in me at this moment. I noticed it suddenly yesterday when the house was empty of Emma. A huge burden feels like it has been lifted from my shoulders. Huge.
I knew that I was under a lot of stress, and it was eating up my insides broiling in anger and resentment that had become hatred. I was a fireball on the brink of disaster. And suddenly, it was gone.
We don’t know how long Emma will be in the hospital. If she is diagnosed as schizophrenic, she will qualify for Social Security disability. I don’t know if she will be released to us, transferred to a mental hospital, or ?
Part of me is hoping that she will come home and we will nurture her into wholeness, more patiently this time. Part of me is hoping that she does not come home and is put away somewhere safe and away from us.
I really don’t know if I can handle having her with us 24/7 again if my hatred returns. Or, perhaps I can handle it, if I seek help for myself. [Note to self: get help when necessary.]