ask megan and/or therapist to talk about the meds thing; would it help for example with stuff like I’m a demon because I insisted on it, etc etc. - General moodiness, extreme ups & downs lately. - She seems to hear things I say with different words than the ones I actually say them in. This happened a couple of times at the market Sat. night, but I can’t remember the specifics. Generally she’ll take something I said that’s a statement or an observation or an opinion and say that I said something that was a personal accusation; like she actually echoes back words or an arrangement of words that I literally didn’t say, and apparently thinks it’s what I said. Specific example (sunday night): balked at being asked to clean up a little sugar after making limeade; said it was because we were in the kitchen; when i insisted that it needed to be done right away, and that we would not be in her way, she finally cleaned up in a pissed off manner, then had limeade and a brownie with whipped cream for supper. I said what else are you going to have for supper, and she said, “I don’t know, I hope i die of bleach poisoning” in creepy fake cheerful sing-song tone. I got frustrated, followed her upstairs and kind of yelled at her about how she has to do the same basic chores as everyone else, etc; and she got pissed off at me and said she was mad because Celi told her to do it (which wasn’t exactly true; cel just told her there was sugar on the floor); i said when you make a big deal about being asked to clean up after yourself it comes off as manipulative; she accused me of comparing her to her mother, and that was the end of the conversation (she did have to have the last word, yelling, DON’T TALK TO ME! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! as I was leaving.) Then about 15 minutes later, while I was in the bathroom, she stormed downstairs, stormed outside, got in someone’s car and left. I texted “I am not ok with you leaving without telling me” and about 5 or 10 minutes later she replied that she was with Courtney because “she won’t get mad at me and call me manipulative.” and “i’ll be home soon” (At least she was able to respond to my later texts about return times, etc.) > people are going to bed; be back by 9 plz. > i cant i’m all the way in burlington > Who are you with > courtney and jess > Are you coming back now, or staying overnight? > i’m coming back now > Ok So this is a problem. I’m only interested in natural consequences, not arbitrary punitive reactions. But. For one thing, I’m going to stop buying sweets and stuff for a while. But that’s relatively minor. With the bigger stuff, like your safety and my knowledge and approval of your whereabouts, and your ability to be civil and contribute to the household, if you’re going to change the rules, other rules will have to change as well. Storming out and saying sorry later isn’t an acceptable default strategy. **I would like help figuring out how to manage this.** I will absolutely not send you to Alaska if behaviors like this continue. I’m not about to force you to take meds, but we can’t continue like this. If meds help, you should take them. If they don’t, or if there’s a legitimate reason not to take them, `then you need to find other ways to make changes. —— Another thing that I’ve noticed over the years is that when she gets into this mode or whatever you want to call it, it’s like everything positive from the past just ceases to exist for her. That’s part of what makes me think of the bp stuff; suddenly I’m basically useless and mean, and these new friends she has are perfect angels. It’s as if all the long conversations we’ve had and all the communication and all the patience and all the shared experiences and all the love and patience and kindness I’ve given her—and that she’s even acknowledged right to me that I’ve given her, and thanked me for it effusively!—it’s like none of that ever existed. That really hurts. I’m glad that she has someone to go to, but jesus christ. > sorry but being at home would’ve ended in me being dumb and i don’t want to go there > i dont really wanna talk about it because i don’t know how to express myself > other than saying i have no self love and everyone at home gets on my nerves and i kind of wanna either run away and drop everything or off myself > and i don’t feel comfortable talking to you > and these people i’m with are patient and understanding and take care of me when i need it > If you don’t feel like talking to me right now, that’s fine. That doesn’t have to mean never though And again, ok, fine, I mean at least she was able to tell me that much. But we’re not going down this road of you don’t have to abide by house rules and clean up some fucking sugar when you spill it, you know? It’s not as petty as it sounds; I’m just saying your problems can’t rule the house. I love you and I want to help in any healthy constructive way I can, but I have limits. I absolutely fucking have to have some limits, and periodic breakdowns followed by exhausted acceptance followed by acting like everything’s fine is Not OK. It’s just not. And this is me telling me this too, maybe mostly. Cuz I hate confrontation and tend towards being nice and glossing over and letting stuff slide—except when it finally boils over and something like tonight happens. Like I don’t want to risk alienating her but then I compromise my own values. You said you were “coming home now” at 8:40, and you didn’t get home until… 10:40, as it turns out > i don’t know where we are. just go to sleep and i’ll lock the door when i get home Get real. > i’m genuinely glad you have supportive friends, but they need to be aware that you are 16, and if they are going to come pick you up, there’s a certain amount of responsibility that they’re taking on that goes with that. If they’re not willing to respect that, then that’s going to be a problem. **I need their contact info too.** Once again, if this is the “coping mechanism,” that is absolutely unfair to me and your sisters. Not going to work. Need to find different ways to deal. - at what point do i ask Ian for their numbers? - at what point do i call the police? - Do I repossess my phone unless she keeps FMi on? I’m supposed to just sit here while you’re in some mystery location with someone I can’t talk to and I have no idea when you’re going to be back? How is that even remotely fair? **How to get into all this in a way that doesn’t emphasize the punitive or make it seem that it’s *only* about my problems? How to come at it from a place of love, while also not avoiding the hard parts?** (But then again, fuck it; it *is* kind of about me, and her sisters. We all live here. And here I am, walking around with this crunched-up howling feeling in my gut, the way I used to—Anne says it’s my own PTSD; reacting in the present to something in the past. Yeah, she’s a kid, and I have to do what I can, but I can’t live like this all the time. I just can’t. I got a few good years left, and I refuse to spend them in the same kind of misery in which I spent most of my 30s. Plus, the other kids need me to be here, alive, present.) (Plus the fact that *because* I can’t (and won’t pour all my energy into a war of trying to) control her every decision, thought, perception, and move, what I *can* do is be a responsible, intentional representative of the so-called real world, in which there are real consequences; she can learn in a safer environment, oh, *this* is what happens when I repeatedly do *this,* kind of like a parent learns about parenting from a dog first.) *I can’t expect her to respond in ways that I think are rational 100% of the time. I can’t expect her to always approve of every move I make, but I have to do what I think is best anyway. Even if I don’t always know what is best ahead of time. I can’t expect myself to never fuck up and say the wrong thing, or to be able to control every single moment of her life to the point that there’s no risk.*