“Hello, Kerry?” Are you somewhere you can talk?“
“Just give me a moment……Ok, I’m ready.”

Ready. I don’t know if a person is ever really ready for what they will hear from a mental health Dr. Ready to hear things are worse than you thought? Dr’s don’t call for appointments. They only call when things are getting more serious. Deep breath in……I’m ready as I’ll ever be.

“I just finished a 3 hour therapy session with your daughter.”
“3 hours. That’s a long time”
“I feel we’re finally starting to deal with things that have been hidden all this time. I want you to know we’ve got this. That said, I also want you to know things could get a lot worse before they get better.”
“Ok. Can I ask a few questions?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“You’ve told me to trust what I see. Lately I’ve noticed she’s not eating much and seems to rapidly be getting thinner. Im noticing bruising again. Am I right? I don’t need to know the number. I just need to know if I’m right.”
“Yes actually, we’re trying to find her some food right now. She hasn’t been eating except the meal when she’s with you. She has lost weight, and although it’s not dangerous yet, it can happen very quickly. I’m asking you to have healthy nutritious food available for her to eat. Financial issues have been noted but she needs good choices. ”
“Ok. I’ve noticed the long sleeves and long loose clothes again. I know she’s cutting, and it’s becoming more frequent. She’s finally at the point of telling.me, but I can t see it. How do I know if it’s being taken care of properly if I’m not allowed to look? How do I trust her that she knows if it’s too bad or needs to be looked at by a Dr or nurse?”
“We’ve given her the supplies and taught her how to take care and clean the wounds. I know this is hard for you but you have to trust her. She won’t tell you at all if you make a fuss. Like I said, you’ll need to prepare yourself. Thangs will get worse as we get deeper in to the therapy.”

Prepare myself. Things will get worse. Worse than what exactly? Worse than seeing the head to toe bruises of a starving, malnourished teenager? Worse than seeing her in the corner in the fetal position, shaking and sobbing? Worse than wondering if she’s going to jump from the car while you rush to the hospital, trying to avoid lights so the car doesn’t slow down? Worse than the.midnight escalation calls? Worse than standing at the side of the river, shaking your fist at God? How much worse are we talking?

“Are we going to be in the hospital again?”
“Not yet, but we’re almost there. We’re watching closely. We don’t feel she’s at risk for suicide, but that’s not the only reason she could be unsafe. Things can change so quickly.”
“Ok.”

“How are you? Are you ok? Is there anything we can do for you? I know this is really hard.”

……………silence…………

“Um, no. I mean yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking. I don’t really know what to say. I’ll be fine. It’s all good. One day at a time, right?”
“Well you’ve certainly been through a lot. Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

That’s the hardest part of this all. And as harsh as it sounds, there is really nothing anyone can actually do. Maybe because most the time I don’t know what I’m dealing with. The odd person has brought a meal, which was wonderful. I’ve had various blessings along the way to keep me afloat, but we’re still on the raft.

This has been like bagging your own groceries, but the clerk won’t slow down or turn off the conveyor belt. You’re taking care to protect the precious items that you just spent time picking and paying for. At first it’s easy because the bags are empty, but as the items keep coming, space starts running out and the bags are getting full. You hit the stop button but it doesn’t work. “EEEK, I need more bags! I need more time!” “That’s 4 cents a bag ma’am. How many do you need?” “I don’t know. Here’s a nickel. One will do.” Then that stupid roast you bought comes towards you and takes up the entire bag you just bought. Worse, you have no more nickels, and when you look up everyone is staring at you. The clerk is holding more bags and lifting her eyebrows. The lady behind you is rolling her eyes like you’re a grocery novice. People walk past and shake their heads. “I need to reorganize. It wasnt supposed to be like this. Forget it. This is ridiculous.” You quickly sweep everything up and just put it all in your cart, smiling at everyone like this is all normal. Nothing to see here, move along. You walk to your car slowly, being thankful that today youre not pushing the cart through slush.

No bags left. No room. Hopefully nothing spills out