I got an e-mail Friday that just knocked my socks off. My granddaughter is in the hospital. She was taken in Thursday nite. She was attending her regular therapy appointment at the hospital when she told her therapist that she was going to go home and end it all. The therapist had to handle another emergency and let her go home. I don’t think much of a therapist that would go to handle another emergency while she had a life or death emergency standing right in front of her. Any way, after she got home, the therapist called her mother and told her to bring her daughter back and admit her. She has been in the hospital since then and I don’t know any thing else. I had told her mother, maybe a year or two ago that I thought she was bi-polar and had asked my own doctor for a reference and he gave me one. One that is particularly good with teenagers. Of course, her mother refused to even think that her child could be mentally ill and took her to Christian counselors and prayed over. Things just got worse and worse. She was put on medications for ADHD, which makes bi-polar folks worse. Then she was put on anti-depression pills. Again it is the wrong pill for bi-polar and will only make it worse. It must be a cocktail of drugs, including a mood stabler, and maybe two or three anti-depression pills. I relayed this information to her other Grandmother. She wanted to know these detail so she could realize what her granddaughter was going through. This is not typical teenage anguish, as her family wanted to believe. I told her my first suicide attempt was at 15 and that led to the first hospitalization. My parent didn’t understand either and I got my ass whipped for taking the overdose, then I was carried to have my stomach pumped out. And this is how it turned out, how family thinks you are just doing things for attention. This is NOT a cry for attention. This is the true state of a bi-polar person.
If I had been allowed closer contact with my granddaughter, I would have seen the pattern there. But it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. It’s always the same pattern. At first, nothing seems wrong. You just think you are a natural perk, saucy teenager. Laughing, dancing, etc., etc. You are terrible smart and are leading the pack. Then comes the rage. Not much at first, then it just explodes. The rage. The screaming, shouting, pushing and shoving. After that, you take you descent into hell. So far down the rabbit hole that darkness is all around you. You can’t even see a pinprick of light anywhere. There is no help to get you out of the rabbit hole and you just want it to stop. So you try stopping it yourself. Her mother doesn’t want to except the diagnosis and my granddaughter will probably NOT take her medicines as the side effects are horrible. Weight gain, loss of concetration, loss of focus, loss of creativity and just be a medicated blob, not wanting to do anything. But, like I have done this past month, I tried to lower the meds on my own and it didn’t turn out pretty at all. My mother says she always knows, even over the phone, when I’m not taking my full doses like I am supposed to. I had to go back up to proper levels so I can be strong for my grandchild.