Thank you for your visit to my blog.

If you are visiting for the first time.  Or maybe you are a return guest.  Thank you for your visit.  Please know that I am not formally trained in psychology, psychiatry or any mental health discipline.  I am a mother who has experienced the onset and early patterns of what I now know to be Bipolar with Borderline Personality Disorder and it's related nuances in my daughter.  I wanted to be a mother with all of my heart and soul.  When this little girl came into my world 19 years ago, I was a young mother and very dialed into her from the moment I first laid eyes on her.  I knew almost from birth there was something a little different about her.  But as a young, naive mother, I brushed those instincts aside..at least until they resurfaced with each stage of her development.

Some of you will be curious.  This blog is in fact very honest and real.  Please be respectful as this is not taboo and the subject of this blog is a real person just trying to thrive in this life just as we all are.  Mental illness is not to be taken lightly, and requires a great deal of maturity, compassion and patience of the care givers to deal with.  Maturity, compassion, dignity and respect is expected of those who sincerely wish to learn more about it.

My message for you is this.  If you find yourself with a child, sibling, friend or are in some way personally touched by what you read here.  Please know that you must not feel embarrassed to talk about it.  If you are a parent with a particularly challenging child, please seek professional, trained help for that child.  It is not fair to the child or to you and your family to simply push it aside.  Understand that it does not always mean that you must medicate your child.  If you've read this blog, you've seen my own struggles with medication.  I prefer a  more holistic approach to life.  In some situations, that is not what is best for the person in need.  You must put your own biases aside and realize that you should never be upset that your child needs medication, you should be more upset that your child did not get the treatment they really need to thrive in this life.  Your child deserves to experience the treatment necessary to help him/her to lead a happy, healthy, full and productive life.  These children/people need the ones who love them most to set them on the path they deserve to be on and the one intended for them.  These children/people have incredible gifts to give the world.  The opportunities are there for them to thrive.  Love your child by getting them the help they need and deserve.

My daughter is a living example of how the right help and perseverence can turn turmoil into tremendous success.  She is thriving in her life now.  She is an incredible force of life.  Don't think for a minute that it was easy or will be for you.  There is no one right solution.  We are all individuals wired differently.  It will be a long road.  But the most rewarding and enlightening one you will ever be on in your life.

Please feel free to comment or message me privately.

An Enigmatic Life / JULY 2012

It happens less often lately.  It comes up in casual conversation and always catching me off guard.  It’s taboo!  Or is it.  I think it’s not.  It’s just life.  Life for us anyway, living with bipolar and it’s many faces.  People, we are all so different from each other.  Some say, “I just want to be [normal].”  Why?  What in fact is so special about [normal]?  That’s right!  Nothing is special about normal!  My daughter says she doesn’t want to be [special].  Oh but you are.  You so very much are indeed.  And with the utter HELL raising you has put me through..I wouldn’t change a thing about you.  You, my darling daughter, you have awakened me in ways that never would’ve been possible without the trials of mothering you.  And your life has burned a path for you and has been branded on the memories and imaginations of countless individuals all along your mere 19 years.  With all the pain has come an intense joy and love that is indescribable.  I have feared for you..I have feared from you.  I have begged God to wrap His protective arms around you more times that I can begin to imagine.

I begin a casual conversation with someone.  Then the topic comes up about family dynamics.  The individual usually says something like, “I don’t speak much to my sister, she has bipolar disorder.” Or, “Our family struggles with dealing with my father’s depression.”  Then I promptly tell them they are not alone.  Every family has been touched in some way by some aspect of the psychiatric world even if medical treatment has never been sought.  I tell them my story.

It goes something like this;

“I understand where you are coming from.  My daughter was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of 12.  Up to that time and since, we have sought treatment for her.  More specifically after the diagnosis, we found excellent, temporary residence care for her in order to fully understand her needs and for the specialist to determine the right combination of medication for her.  In May of 2010, we had a major set back.  Upon the undesired addition of a new boyfriend who was a few years older than our daughter and influencing her in very bad ways, she was Baker Acted into a mental health facility for a period of two weeks.  She was at that time in extreme danger.  And she was an extreme danger to her family.  We were forced to take further measures to protect ourselves from her and the unwelcome influences she brought about.  Upon her release two weeks later and at the tender age of seventeen, she ran away with the undesirable influence.  We continued to work the “system” and to work with local law enforcement to regain physical custody of our daughter to no avail.  The “system” was not set up at all to help parents.  It was only set up to help children in abusive environments.  She was treated as an adult at the age of seventeen and the boy flew under the laws for statutory rape due to his age being under the age of 24 in the state of Florida.  This child today has been out of the diabolical grips of the disgusting boy for more than a year now.  She is in college, and successfully holding down a job for almost one full year now.  How you ask?  What is the secret of her success?  Of our success with her?  I would hardly call it that at this point.  There is still a long road ahead of us.  She is still emotionally stunted a few years because of the trauma of her high school years.  Bipolar Disorder is not the same twice.  It manifests differently from person to person.  With my daughter, little annoyances to you or me, well to her they are sirens and she constantly looks to quiet the noise in her head and focus on getting through the day.   Getting through a class, holding onto her job, not making a cutting, out of nowhere comment to a friend.

I knew it to be so..long before a clinical psychologist sat me and my husband on his dark green, aged, leather sofa in his office in Atlanta, Georgia nearly seven years ago.   

An Introduction to the "Baker Act" / MAY 2010

First, I would like to say thank you so very much for taking a moment out of your busy life to spend a little time with me.  The past 18 years of my life with Lynn have been a an unending tide of turmoil and emotional highs and lows.  Like a symphony orchestra moving us with all it's deep, dramatic notes from intense, gripping emotion, into the playful dance of grace and peace.  A real life story, Lynn's emerging array of mental disorders have sent me into a path that has oftentimes left me alone and in deep despair.  Many days I cling literally to life, pushing away snares of evil, holding the comfort of the love and companionship of family and friends.


If you are reading this blog for the first time, to best understand the sequence, please click on "2007" on the right and scroll down to the bottom post entitled, "In the beginning..." then read from that post up.


Jeb, Lynn's new love interest, had pushed his way into her life and then into our family.  Smug, defiant, disrespectful, this young man was as mysterious as he was obvious.  Never a straight answer about his past or even his present for that matter.  He wouldn't or more likely, couldn't even look me in the eye.  He was amused about how he and his "buddies" would go down to the street in town where they knew or assumed street walkers frequented and pitch raw eggs at the women.  This is who Lynn chose to force on her family?  I injected questions into my conversations with Jeb; "Do you go to school?  Did you graduate high school?  If so when, where?  Where do you attend college?  What are you taking in college? Why do you have an arrest record?  Where do you live?  Who are your friends and what do they do?"  Every question was answered with lies, elaborate lies.  I wanted to believe at first because his presence in our lives seemed semi-permanent like a bad tattoo.  The answers to these questions would prove to be more profoundly twisted than the web of lies that were woven.  I was appalled that this young man was spending time with my daughter, that he was in my home and around my younger daughter.  I was annoyed and then I felt violated when he would blatantly ignore our rules of no visits during the school week.  Jeb would come to the house so frequently especially when my husband was out of town and then he would refuse to leave.  There was a history of abuse in the form of neglect and quite possibly more at play in Jeb's past.  There was an obvious cycle in motion that he had no choice but to repeat.


There was something bubbling up from the muck of deceit and defiance.  Lynn and Jeb formed a world all their own.  They bought into the fantasy.  It was difficult to discern, was it Jeb's influence on Lynn?  Or was he really a helpless victim who fell prey to her seductive and manipulative ways.  I almost felt sorry for him, but then I realized that he was feeding her manipulation without even really knowing exactly what he was creating.  I warned him that he was messing with something he couldn't possibly understand.  The grand fantasy that is so text book with BPD (borderline personality disorder) was centered on Jeb but he was really just a pawn, insignificant, yet undeniably culpable, he was the tool that was used by the manipulation that brews inside Lynn.


"I F****NG HATE YOU!!!!  I HATE MY FAMILY I WANT YOU ALL DEAD AND I HOPE YOU ALL ROT IN HELL!!  EVERY ONE OF YOU!!!  I KNOW HOW TO DO IT TOO!!!  I DON'T NEED OR WANT MY FAMILY ANYMORE!!!  I CAN DO EVERYTHING, HAVE EVERYTHING WITHOUT YOU!!!  IN FACT, I AM GOING TO BE UNBELIEVABLY RICH!!!  WHAT'S THE MATTER?  YOU *****!!!  YOU CAN'T EVEN SIT IN THE ROOM WITH ME...THAT'S RIGHT RUN AWAY.  LOOK AT THE WAY YOU MAKE ME ACT!!!  LOOK AT ME!!!  I LOOK LIKE I'M A CRAZY PERSON RIGHT NOW THANKS TO YOU!!!!"


Click...the handcuffs were snapped on.  The chief of police and two detectives escorted Lynn through the doors of the mental health hospital.  She was immediately placed in a level I unit.  It was a new facility, private, expensive.  She was placed deep within the facility, behind three sets of thick, double, bolted doors that only staff had the keys and codes to access.  There was a nice courtyard with a sand volleyball court..surrounded by a very tall, chain-link fence with triple razor wire spiraling like a fanciful necklace draped around the building.  The cafeteria was stocked with almost whatever the patients could imagine they would want to eat.


I later learned what the "Baker Act" means.  A mentally challenged person must present, in front of witnesses an imminent threat to herself or others.  The intake coordinator at the hospital said she fit the classic traits required to admit her for observation for at least three days.  Upon further evaluation, they determined her to be an imminent threat to me at the very least and then also to her younger sister.  They would not even allow me to see her for two full days.  They said she was behaving in a violent way and I was her target.  They administered Geodome.  She went to sleep and when she awoke with a start as she often does, she jumped out of bed, she passed out cold.  No food that day as she refused to eat and the Geodome, a very powerful drug overtook her small frame.  The nurses caught her before she hit the floor.  Then they called me with the update.  It sent a chill through me to think what she was experiencing..to think what she was capable of yet also so vulnerable.  I would later learn that her vulnerability was in large part due to her deep seated fear of being alone. (Reactive attachment.)  This side of her in the younger version manifested itself in the form of tantrums.  Now, she is turning into a young woman and the battle of her hormones with her chemical imbalances was more vicious, more intense and more threatening than ever before.

**The "Baker Act."   Involuntary Examination (FL Statute 394.463) Defined by the Florida Mental Health Act

[A person may be taken to a receiving facility for involuntary examination if there is reason to believe that he or she is mentally ill and because of his or her mental illness: (1a) The person has refused voluntary examination after conscientious explanation and disclosure of the purpose of the examination; or
(1b) The person is unable to determine for himself or herself whether examination is necessary; and

(2a) Without care or treatment, the person is likely to suffer from neglect or refuse to care for himself or herself; such neglect or refusal poses a real and present threat of substantial harm to his or her well-being; and it is not apparent that such harm may be avoided through the help of willing family members or friends or the provision of other services; or
(2b) There is a substantial likelihood that without care or treatment the person will cause serious bodily harm to himself or herself or others in the near future, as evidenced by recent behavior.

The Baker Act was considered by many persons around the country as landmark 

legislation at the time of its enactment.  The movement to deinstitutionalize 

persons from large mental hospitals back to their home communities became 

prominent since the 1970’s and many newer psychiatric medications have made 

it possible for persons to avoid or reduce the need for long-term hospitalization. 

Since the passage of the Act, the rights of individuals to live freely and without 

the same degree of deprivation of liberty has been more accepted by the public.  

The Baker Act has been continuously revised to recognize these trends and to 

protect the rights of persons with mental illnesses.]

**History of the Baker Act – It’s Development and Intent 

State of Florida Department of Children and Families Mental Health Program Office 

Florida’s Baker Act Website  – May 2002  http://www.dcf.state.fl.us/programs/samh/MentalHealth/laws/histba.pdf

###

When we were finally permitted to see her, she looked so pale and so thin.  I couldn't contain my emotion and I just hugged her and kissed her forehead.  I whispered in her ear just as I had done so often before when she was a baby, a toddler, a young child..."I love you my sweet girl."  The therapist assigned to her case sat stoic..her eyes almost appeared to be accusing me of something.  Lynn showed no emotion.  She sat down and fixed her gaze on me..just as stoic.  I don't know what to feel..do I feel sorry for myself that once again I am rejected by this daughter?  Do I feel sorry for her that she lacks any empathy at all for the pain she exacts on me so surgically?  Do I feel ashamed that in some way..many ways, I must've failed as her mother?  Helpless, self loathing..pitiful and unworthy.  These are the feelings that circle around in my own psyche.


Could I have possibly read up more on anything, everything that could be at play here to help her..to help me help her?  All the years of therapy, the many, many different doctors, social workers, teachers, family, friends, residential treatment schools.  All the university scientific position papers, studies..and countless hours deep in prayer...no answers...only more questions...


The psychiatrist at the mental health hospital where Lynn resided called me and my husband in for a meeting.  He told us that nothing out of her mouth was the truth at this time.  She was living in some wild fantasy and that she had, "...built a castle in the sky and she has bought it and moved into it."  He further told us that she was surrounded by people who were influencing her in very bad ways.  That he said with the path she was on, that she would more than likely be in jail or dead within two months.  There are few words that are more terrifying to a mother.  Devastatingly scared, I was determined to do everything I had to do to save her.  Even if it meant sacrificing myself in the process.


Lynn's  behavior continued to become more erratic.  Her attitude more defiant.  She began to have ideas that she never expressed before.  Ideas like that she didn't need or even want her family anymore.

Descension into Mania

If you are reading this blog for the first time, I will provide a brief summary to you.  To best understand the sequence, please click on "2007" and scroll down to the bottom post entitled, "In the beginning..." then read from that post up.

The life I live is surrounded by family members who live in a personal torment of various personality disorders centered around Borderline Personality Disorder.  This devastating condition has it's grips on my oldest daughter.  I live with the manipulation, the anger and the uncertainty of this condition every day.  My husband and younger daughter are also affected.

It has been a little more than two years since I have checked in with you...so much to tell...so much chaos..then calm..followed by the worst two weeks of my life. I just experienced pain and torment I wish on no other human being much less a mother.

I'll take you back to the spring of 2008. Lynn had just come home from boarding school to learn that the family will be transferred...yet again...and we are going back to Orlando, Florida.

A recent written account of the mental anguish this caused Lynn was found in her room. I was there sorting through the chaos that had collected in her drawers, under her bed, on bookshelves, and inside containers and compartments. She places things significant and otherwise in a random pattern throughout her room...her space whether that be her room or her bags. The shifting pattern of her personal effects weave a subtle story about the workings of her mind...a map of the daily inconveniences and little victories of a beautiful young lady with an emerging discovery of personality disorders.

The following is an excerpt from a paper she wrote for a college English class while dual enrolled in High School.

October 2009:

The title of the paper is: "Pill By Useless Pill"

[The stress of moving at first was extremely subtle; only because I thoroughly enjoyed starting over and creating a new feel for myself and my surroundings. However, as I grew older and friendships seemed to mean more to me, moving got harder. Making new friendships wasn't as easy as it had always been. I found myself in a hole of misery from overwhelming stress, and it had washed over me and my life like an unending inconvenience.

I would have to establish all new friendships and then mere weeks or months later, the brown boxes would pile in the front door of my home and just as quickly they were carried right back out to venture to the next house that I ideally would call my home. From the age of six weeks old to now, I have moved a grand total of eleven times. Each move was special in it's own extent. ....Being on medication brought me down further into despair. It seemed as if my anxiety medication wasn't working to it's fullest. So instead of one, I started taking two. Two little, white pills once a week turned into two pills every two days. Finally, I was to the point of taking two pills a day. I felt like I could not handle the emotional stress of not having friends due to my lack of interest in being in a specific place. It seemed unfair that I had to be in such an imposition when everything in my life was just as it should have been. My previous coping methods were non-existent as I swallowed multiple pills each day.

My insecurities brought out the absolute worst in my personality. I pushed away the friends I had in [the last location we resided] because I figured that if I were never to see them for a long while, what was the point in even talking to them? I needed a friend then and there, not then and elsewhere. I went from a happy, energetic, loving and caring person to a negative, insecure and extremely unsatisfied kid.]
~LB

This is a note I found in her room carefully drafted on a single sheet of white paper:

"The truth that many people never understand, until it's too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer, because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in proportion to your fear of being hurt."
~LB

Lynn wrote the above in crayon. She used two different colors. The bold and colored words above were drawn over multiple times...like they were shaking on the page...

As for the paper she wrote, entitled, "Pill By Useless Pill", I can see the hidden truths and a glimpse into her psychye. Some of her paper was obviously exaggerated and she would more than likely agree that it is...however, there are some very deep truths that dive into the torment and mental anguish she experiences with her Bipolar/Borderline mind. There is a deep seated trauma that exists in her brain. Only she can reconcile this trauma while I as her mother must stand by and watch her suffer...helplessly.  Her traumas stem from what most of us would consider normal life challenges.  But for Lynn's brain, the events seared into her psyche causing residual damage not even she can comprehend.

We as a family would experience a brief period of a semblance of calm and normalcy peppered with brief and somewhat normal, teenage outbursts, lasting from September 2008 through June 2009.  Beginning July 2009..everything would change for us..forever.

Papa was very ill and very likely imminently dying.  Papa, my father, played a very integral part in Lynn's life.  A very early bond formed between these two from Lynn's infancy.  That bond was sealed upon my divorce from Lynn's father when she was just 12 months old.  Lynn became like my father's baby.  A unique connection between them began to form and then grew through the years.  As the struggles with Lynn and her many disorders became more and more challenging, their relationship strengthened.  When I went to my father for help and advice about my ongoing struggles raising Lynn, he was quick to blame me and only me, calling into question my mothering frequently.  The self doubt and deep wounds of self loathing as her mother stabbed at me with his remarks.

Papa fell very ill with the discovery that his bladder cancer metastasized to reveal itself as a large tumor in his liver.  My father turned 80 in September and left this world on October 24, 2009.  The loss was beyond devastating to me personally..the affects on Lynn were shattering.

The call came mid summer 2009.  It was the voice of my father at the end of the phone line.  "They have found a spot on my liver..it's nothing really..just a spot..I'll be fine."  He always said, "I'll be fine.."  He was not fine and the next few days turned into weeks of watching the cancer slowly and very insistently take the life of my father.  With this loss I was left hollow and knowing that there would now be a void, a piece of me forever gone that would never be filled.  It took my breath away, I have now lost a very great love of my life.  The man responsible for bringing me into existence is now no longer in his physical body.  How can my life go on without him?  How can the electrical impulses in my body continue to fire and breath life into my soul without this man, my father?

It was shortly after the death of my father that I learned that Lynn's own, biological father made contact with her.  Many years earlier, he had hired an attorney and signed a witnessed statement that he wanted to relinquish his rights and terminate child support.  He contacted her through Facebook.  He proceeded to tell Lynn that he left me, her mother, the woman who had raised her, for another woman during a series of affairs he conducted throughout our marriage.  What sort of a person tells this to a 16-year-old young lady?  And after more than 15 years of abandonment?  Lynn suffered deeply from this revelation mostly because she was disappointed in the person he is.  She asked him, in writing to leave her alone permanently.

As if all of these devastating life blows weren't enough for a young girl, especially one who already suffers from her own brand of self doubt and self loathing...Lynn begins to bring into the fold new, more dangerous behaviors and her attitude shifted.

January 2010..Lynn had a new love interest in her life.."Jeb."  Jeb initially entered the picture June 2009.  As her mother, I quickly nipped this new interest in the bud and forbid her to see him.  I told this young man to stay away from my daughter, my family and my property.  My instincts told me he was bad news...my instincts never fail me.  By Christmas time, Lynn was sneaking around meeting this young man.  What has she injected into our lives this time?  Jeb would introduce a poison into our family that would have a devastating impact and would permanently alter our family dynamic.  Innocently enough..I feel that perhaps somewhere deep in his diabolical mind he knew..but lay victim in his own illusions.

It was an infiltration through the mind, body and psyche of our Lynn that would rock the foundation of who we are as a family and result in a grave unfathomable loss.

Lynn suffered extreme stress from the pressure the demands of the bad boyfriend, the demands of her work as Design Editor of the award winning yearbook for her high school and a new job.  The side of her that was raised by a loving family with guidelines and boundaries wreaked havoc inside her with the boyfriend who was telling her that parents, the police, her teachers basically anyone in an authoritative position are "stupid".  For someone who suffers from the challenges Lynn faces, the pressure was too much.  The descent into the manic phase she experienced as a result was sad and was avoidable.  The people that come into her life and then fall under her spell fail to see who she really is and how to help her.  Unfortunately, it will be a pattern that will be repeated as she moves into adulthood.

The next blog entry will outline in detail the drama that unfolded in the next several months that involved not only our infamous, Windermere Police but also a lock down mental health facility, court appearances and a permanent no trespass against Jeb.  The course of Lynn's life takes a turn that cannot be undone.

A Delicate Bond

I have heard it from more than one source. I have an uncanny bond with Lynn. (Don't mistake my words. My younger daughter and I also are very close and very affectionate with each other.) But it is different with Lynn. It has never been really affectionate..from a very early age...months old, not even walking yet, Lynn would bristle at affection. She would literally push me from her as I was holding her. As she grew, she would not give hugs and would pull away from the attempts at affection; a hug or a kiss. Yes, I would still kiss her..I would sneak into her bedroom at night while she slept and cover her forehead with kisses, smooth her hair with my hand and whisper a tiny, "I love you, beautiful child."

Then she grew some more, and the storms of her illness became wild and fraught with intesity. I locked into her mind. Perhaps in an oh, so desperate intent to understand her, to help her..to love her more despite my own feelings of angst. I could engage into her and sense her emotions, what was traveling through her mind at light speed. I could feel it more than see it. Here it comes, an "episode" as we call them. This one is an angry one. She is 11 years old and I pick her up from school. She fixes her icy glaze on me and the fury begins.

I anticipate her every action, word or deed even before she does. What is this connection? I know that mother's have a very special bond with their children, especially their daughters or so I've heard. I can only speak from the experience of being a mother of daughters as I have no sons. This connection is almost psychic; astral. It comes from my core. I can feel it. I don't think it goes both ways, or she hasn't revealed as such. I can sense what she senses. Maybe she does...sometimes it seems we are halves of the same person...not that she is me, rather that she is half me and half her and I am half her and half me. I understand her in a way that is not possible for anyone else to understand. I know when the tide of an episode...manic or depressive, begins to advance on her mind. I see it in her eyes...I can feel it in my bones. I know it before she or anyone else does. I am not always proud about how I handle it. I get angry. NO!!! "Lynn, what is wrong with you!? What happened? Did something happen today at school? Since you've been home?" "No mom", she says, "No, nothing is wrong with me, nothing happened." No, of course nothing happened. It is never what happened. It is ALWAYS, what happened after. My anger, while it seems is directed at her, it is aimed for the darkness that swells within her. Get away from my beautiful, sweet daughter! Where are her pills?! "Lynn, did you take your pill last night? Have you skipped any nights? Did you intend to take it but then layed it down somewhere like you did last week? Remember, it MUST be consistently in your system to work properly." When the meds are consistent, I have a beautiful, happy, healthy, well-adjusted daughter. When they are not, the darkness takes over.

Falling...figuratively and LITERALLY!!!

I fell down the full flight of stairs at my home Friday, February 8th. Yes, I fell..face first, down 16 steps. Maybe more like flew down. Day 2 of Lynn's return home..permanently from boarding school. I had a business appointment that morning. Amy, my younger child had a holiday from school. Therefore, both girls were home. Amy was right there, at her computer nook near the top of the stairs when it happened. I stepped out from the top step and lost my footing. In an instant I knew this would be really bad. I flung the laundry and cell phone I was carrying out of my hands and reached forward for the stair rails catching myself. However, the momentum had begun (you physics experts out there can explain this one). Forward I went, sliding with ONE hand (my right one) on the hand rail. I hit my left elbow, knee and chin on the lower steps. Amazingly, nothing was broken, including on my body. And thank God-I did not hit my head. Lynn was on the phone at the time speaking with her dorm mother about a few items she left behind and wanted to retrieve on her return Sunday to clear out her dorm room. Lynn heard the commotion, looked down and replied in a very non-chalant manner, "oh, my mother just fell down the stairs." Then she went into her bedroom and continued her conversation with her dorm mother. Amy, my very sensitive momma's girl, saw the whole thing happen, screamed and flew into her bedroom - where she would remain for the next hour - slamming the door, sobbing uncontrollably. BOTH of my girls are now in their rooms, and I am on the floor at the bottom of the stairs conducting a quick assesment of my condition. No permanent damage and I am about to be late for my appointment...so out the door I run!

Drama!!! Yes, I couldn't make this stuff up. I think I was in shock a little for a few hours because I couldn't stop giggling about it and my husband and my mother saw nothing funny at all about it. In fact I was laughing so hard I was tearing up...shock? Anyway, I was very sore the next several days on my right side where I grabbed the handrail and I think I may have bruised the bone on my lower left chin. This was the area that took the brunt of the fall. Otherwise, I am very lucky I didn't do more damage. **Next house...NO STAIRS!!!**

She's baaaack....

Yes, that's right. Lynn was going to flunk her freshman year if I didn't do something soon. The boarding school would keep her, but then they were more interested in their budget than the well being of my child...at least that is my opinion. I know they are in the business of young lives, but let's face it; it is a business. So, the best thing for Lynn for now was to bring her back home and enroll her in the local public high school. There she could play a little catch up and under my watchful eye. She will still need to attend summer school for 2 classes to pass her freshman year. I mandated several conditions to her return home. She must follow a schedule including time for chores, time for homework and time for social. Her computer usage was limited and I have her laptop installed at the kitchen table where I monitor everything she does with it. Additionally, when she talks on the phone, mostly to her boyfriend, Daniel, she is at the kitchen table where I monitor that conversation as well. She has been home for 4 weeks now. She has only had 2 "episodes". These involved unreasonable anger. They blew over in 24 hours and she returns to her sweet self. She continues to struggle with school. Since it is so late in year, she is unable to participate in any clubs or extracurricular. I will need to look for something outside the school for her. Let's visit the angry episodes for a moment; they come on without warning, not instigated by anything unusual and nothing can be said to her at all. She is totally unreasonable and irrational. No matter my state of mind or attitude, it is no affect and no measure to counter balance the seething anger she exacts on me. These times always call up the time she stated, "I feel angry and I won't stop until everyone around me feels the same."

More to follow in the next few weeks....