Tails of a 17th Street Geisha

alright, time to think positively. here are the things that I am happy about:

1) I got all the tits in the family. My sisters are flat chested, and I’m a D

2) Niece is in the psych hospital and going to be in residential for a while, getting the help she so desperately needs (okay, okay, this should be my number #1)

3) I have a lot of good friends. I know they’ll take me back when I get my sister’s life back on track and I go back to living on my own

4) I’m the owner of an adorable cat! When I adopted Drea and sheltered Alex, they brought this adorable little, playful, frizzy-little, tiny-little, scrappy, wiley, monstrosity that is known as SAFFRON

5) I can afford to help my sister. So far, I haven’t gone bankrupt. She’s going to go bankrupt though, for sure. She is starting to get debt collectors on her ass for some hospitalizations. She makes $800/month on disability/work MAX. She can’t make more. How the hell can she afford her medical bills? I just don’t know. Luckily, we sold her car and she really doesn’t have anything they can take from her… but her credit score, which is terrible anyway.

6) I have a great collection of shoes. You should see them! I have 6 pairs of Fornarina. They make me happy. I even have a pair of ruby red mary jane shoes that are PERFECT for whenever I find that Dorothy dress

7) I’m still alive!  And being alive is due to the fact that…
I no longer drink. Haven’t had a drink since July 2005. The wedding. Eeeeek!

9) As a person with an addictive personality, I could get into a lot of trouble: spending, gambling, drinking, drugs… luckily, I choose work and exercise… sometimes sex, for my addiction.

10) I have a FAN-fuckin-TASTIC job that I love. Love going to work every day. Love waking up to go to work. I spent my first 5 years working HATING my job, which affected ALL aspects of my life, and I realize

that it’s important to love what you do!

So it ain’t all bad, nope. Not so bad. :)))

Being a caregiver sucks sometimes.

I thought it was going to be a helluva lot easier now that my niece is getting the care she needs and is in the psych hospital.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a HUGE relief and I’m totally happy about it, but… it’s not all good yet.

Maybe it’s just the time of year for my sister to get SUPER SUPER SUPER suicidal-level depressed, but this is hard. This time of year, around her birthday, she does very passive aggressive self-destructive things that land her in the hospital (ICU usually)

THIS WEEK my sister was told by two doctors that she needs to check herself into a psych hospital for care. She’s too depressed to take her meds. For the last 3 weeks she hasn’t taken half of her meds (she ran out of them and needed to press her doctor to fill the prescriptions for her but she hasn’t)

She doesn’t take care of herself, she leaves the house a big old mess, she loses things, forgets to make important medical payments, forgets VERY SERIOUS tasks for Drea’s mental health… she’s totally down in the dumps.

When I take time after work to do personal things, like work out or hang out with friends, I come home and she’s passed out or half-alive & miserable. I took every night out this week to clean up and get my apartment ready for the new renter and when I came home, the apartment looked like armageddon

I know she’s lonely, new city, fresh divorce, daughter in a psych hospital ill with an incurable, chronic illness… but I’m not sure what I can do for her.

I’m at work M-F, and I think I have to come home afterwards instead of meeting with friends.

I love her to pieces, but it’s been 8 months and I can’t spend all my time with her when I’m not at work.

It’s so much easier to have a sex life than a love life.

It’s so much easier to have a gym buddy than a regular old buddy.

Every time I see my friends, I realize that months have passed since I last spent time with them.

Next blog: the silver lining!

There are a couple of days in the year that are permanently etched in my mind. These are days of reflection and sometimes days of action:

1) My sister Susan’s death date: April 5, 2006

Every year I take this day off from work for reflection. This year I tried to live it up and be cheerful for my other sister who lives with me. When she gets in a depression, it’s really REALLY difficult to get her out of it.

2) Drea’s FIRST move in date: September 5, 2006

This day is the first day of PART ONE of my niece’s stay with me in Silver Spring. I took care of her for 3 months BY MYSELF until I couldn’t take care of her mental health issues.

3) Drea and Alex’s big move date: August 15, 2008

This was the first day of my new life as a caregiver to two emotionally disturbed people (one of whom is disabled and considered “terminally ill.”)

4) The date I met John: September 30, 1999

This was the day that I ended a HORRIBLE relationship with the prior boyfriend. This previous boyfriend slowly undermined me and oppressed me to the point of powerlessness. I didn’t realize over time that he took me away from friends and family and then ultimately, my own identity! After meeting John, I had the strength to DTMFA. John didn’t do anything but show me that men are not all evil and scary! Boy did I have issues. DID I have issues? LOL I’m sure I have a lot of security and trust issues still.  Maybe that’s why I can’t commit.

Tomorrow, April 15, is not just tax day (although I wish it wasn’t tax day…)

April 15 is the 9 month anniversary of the end of my single, fancy free life. When I had Drea for the first time in the fall of 2006, I thought I was going to have her forever. It only lasted 3 months–there was only so much I could do as a newly single-mom with no transportation to a very emotionally disturbed girl.

This time, with my sister in tow, I thought it would be easier. It was VERY VERY difficult as I had TWO people to take care of, not a second person to help with Drea. Ultimately, I balanced supporting my sister and empowering her to be a better mother, but it’s still not 100% perfect.

I still can’t believe that we survived the last 9 months.

I don’t know why I love helping other people so much, but sometimes it nearly kills me. God knows that blogging about it provides such a needed relief and deflation of surmounting pressure/anxiety.

I think I’m FINALLY over my ex-boyfriends. There was a reason (or many) that the relationships didn’t work out.

I can be their bestfriends or workout buddies… and NOTHING else.

Call me Walmart, because I’m cutting out their benefits!

Alex and I have been fighting for months, since early November, to get Drea the serious help she needs.

• 9-11 calls, non-er police calls (3-11 if you didn’t know)
• cops reporting missing persons police, asking if we want to press charges, lecturing us on how to raise her! (”let her run away” “put her away”)
• filing petitions to the court for emergency evaluations
• filing a petition to child protection agency
• broken walls, broken furniture, broken cell phone, broken spirits
• sleepless nights from worrying, tired eyes from hours of crying, ulcers from stressing
• hours in the emergency room–sometimes even overnight stays

Finally, I think, Drea is going to get the help she needs through a in-patient residential center. It’s expensive–tens of thousands of dollars a month–and it had to be ordered by some governmental agency. The agencies all passing the buck because whoever refers, pays.

After 3 trips to the same 7-day, short-term, acute center, the fourth time she was transferred to a DIFFERENT location and THIS time they are taking it seriously. We met with the psych team and she’s likely to be transferred to a long-term residential center outside of Baltimore. THANK GOD!

THANK JEEBUS!

I’m sad that this is her only solution, sad that she’s not going to be around in the house, sad that she is so upset by this and so angry at us, and wants me dead… well, it’s what she’s saying at any rate.

BUT… when she was here, I was taking care of both her AND Alex.

Now, Alex can finally rest, take care of herself. I don’t have to worry about Drea killing herself, running away, fighting with Alex, destroying things, threatening my life…

I need to do something good for the world now, to pay back the karma. I only had to fight for this for the last 2 years, and more directly, during the last 8 1/2 months…

A week has passed since the cops whisked my niece away to the ER where she waited 24 hours and then subsequently transferred to the pysch hospital.  

We’ve been through this cycle 4 times before:

1) niece exhibits psychotic behaviour (breaking things, threatening us, hurting us)

2) 9-11 called, cops arrive, handcuff her and shuffle her to the ER

3) she gets checked into an acute treatment center, which is only meant to triage and recalibrate her medication dosage

4) 7 days pass and Drea comes home wanting to do better… and then

5) 2-4 weeks pass before she deteriorates and gets to step 1 again

This time, we’re fighting against a reluctant child protection services that could put her in RTC but would have to pay if THEY were the ones to refer her.

We’re also finding that we have to work through an education system that could also refer her to RTC, but has to go through bureacratic process to rule out the other, less costly, options.

We have one year and 5 months (before she turns 18) to get her into an Residential–a life saver and the only hope to preventing her from running away, getting pregnant or killing herself.

So it’s 7 days into her stay @ this acute care center and today/tomorrow will tell if they release her. When they do, she’s going to take her suitcase and hasta la bye bye. The cops are tired of us calling them for her running away and for her violence. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT? The cops are complaining about having to do their fucking job? And if the cops are tired, then WHY THE HELL isn’t the Child Protection Services agency stepping up to refer? BECAUSE they don’t want to pay. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

We shall see what happens in the future. For now, please send positive vibes or prayers, even, to Drea and her momma.