Sunday, March 10, 2024

Months

Months of unsettled, mental illness, would plague Teale… Months of abuse, violence, fear for myself and Mark. Teale would control every decision and move we made in life. She would struggle in herself. Her sleep would be sporadic, exhausting both her and us as her caregivers. She would wake anytime between 1:00 AM and 4:00 AM. I would start to look at 4:00 AM as sleeping in. With her sleep so off, her moods just became more and more sporadic. The antipsychotic she was on, was no longer working to stabilize her mental illness. Her doctor knew nothing about how to help stabilize her. We were stuck in a horrible position. The psychiatrist we had been working with, in Teale’s doctor’s office, had moved on, and nobody had been hired. We were alone. Her doctor tried to support us, and tweak medication, but, because we had exhausted her current antipsychotic medication, there wasn’t anywhere to go. She had failed at many antipsychotics over the years. We needed, what they were referring to, as a last resort, antipsychotic. This medication was strictly controlled, and only certain psychiatrist had certifications to administer it. It could be deadly to people, because it would drop their white blood cell count very low. Blood draws would be required every week for six months, after she was at a therapeutic level. If her body was affected by the medication negatively, we could not continue. First, we need to get in with the psychiatrist that could prescribe it. That would take many months…

As we waited for paperwork to go through, Teale would become more and more unstable. She would be violent towards us, if something set her off. Her rage, intense and scary. I would be at risk constantly. There was no telling what would set her off, something simple, or unknown to Mark and I. The rages could result in hours of lost time, trying to get her back, or waiting her out. She not only would try to hurt us and cause damage anyway she could, but she also was biting and hitting herself. It was a heartbreaking, and terrifying, eight months. The psychiatrist had not gotten back to us, and we were stuck in a holding pattern. We sadly assumed, she wasn’t getting back to us because she did not have room for another patient. We would find out Teale’s Care Manager, who was supposed to submit specific documentation, had not done it. All of us endured months of agony, only to find out, after the Care Manager quit her job, that the application had not been submitted at all. Let me reiterate this, the Care Manager had done nothing! We would also find out she had not submitted the paperwork she needed to do for Teale to go to camp. Camp Haccamo is something Teale looks forward to every year! Us as a couple, and a family, look forward to the break from Teale’s care. For five nights, Teale goes to a rotary camp nearby, free of cost, thanks to donations. The camp was developed for children and adults with special needs, to have a typical overnight camp experience with peers of “like abilities.” The paperwork was long overdue, and I was devastated to learn she might not be able to go. How could somebody who acted like they cared about us, do such heinous things? The Care Manager knew we were suffering greatly, and needed to get in with the psychiatrist, to possibly, hopefully, stabilize Teale. I talked with her constantly about the agonizing wait, not knowing, that it was her, that was causing the delay. When our care manager quit, they had nobody to replace her, so the supervisor would contact me. This is how I found out, that the paperwork was not done. Apparently, she hadn’t done her job for many people. I would have to jump through hoops to catch up on the paperwork that Camp Haccamo would need, for Teale to go. I would beg for a spot for Teale at camp, even though the deadline had passed. Explaining how I thought our care manager had submitted the paperwork, I asked her to, they would take Teale. One hurdle cleared, but we would still need to submit paperwork to the Arc of Monroe. Teale desperately, needed to get an appointment with the psychiatrist, that was housed there. 


The wait would be months… 



Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Almond Milk, the final chapter

 Mark would tell me about the rage slowly, over several hours and several days. Details would hit him differently, and at moments, he didn’t expect. The kind people who would offer care and support would suddenly come to mind. There were many, friends and strangers offering to buy Teale something, I’m sure they felt paralyzed and hoped that could help. The pharmacy technician who sat with Teale and the other staff who checked in. Mark saw one woman from a far, making Mark tear up as he shared the story, she is a kind, gentle soul. Teale loved seeing her weekly. She didn’t come close, but caught Mark’s eye. I’m not sure if he was heartbroken for her, himself, or for Teale. Seeing Teale at her worst, can change a person’s perspective of her. It’s scary and sad. You worry if she’s ruined relationships when others see it. We know, she’s just in a bad moment. We know she’ll come back to us and eventually her joy will too. He tells me of the fear of having people walk by her, without concern for their own safety, and the police officer that came. I am thankful it was Mark and not me, with her. I know I would have had trouble sharing the right information, in a stressful situation, with a police officer. With Mark’s size and demeanor, plus his being a man, I’ve seen plenty of people give him more respect, than they give to me, when it comes to Teale’s rages. I’m smaller than her, and admittedly I suffer from PTSD when these rages kick in. I’m stoic on the outside, but inside, I’m terrified. My fear of a police officer getting involved, may have literally paralyzed me. I may have struggled to ask him to stay back and out of the situation. Teale can’t be reasoned with in a rage. It must just run the course. Our reactions to her, are very flat, we stay calm and stoic because we’ve learned this is the best and fastest way to “get her back.” Talking to her, reasoning, threatening, scolding, none of that work in the moment. To an outsider, it most likely looks like we are giving in, letting her get her way and act this way. Our skin is tough and for the most part, we try to not care what anyone thinks. It’s not an easy situation to be in. Our hearts are truly breaking when we see Teale in a rage, out of control and unable to calm. But, we’ve learned, we must just wait her out. I pray my way through, I’m pretty sure Mark does too. I also keep reminding myself this is not who she is and that none of it is her fault. Doctors messed up at her birth, she was breach, sat in meconium, had no pulse for 8 minutes when born and suffered severe brain damage. Her mood disorders are a direct result. Mark and I both believe she may have chosen this path, her soul came to us to teach. We have contradicting feelings on her birth. We know the doctors could have done an emergency cesarean section operation and she may have had a “normal life” and we believe her soul chose this journey for all of us. I believe in an afterlife, I believe in a God and I believe someday, I will know the truth to all this. It sustains me in the tough moments to not lash out at her, to stay calm, knowing it is not her fault and that God trusted me to love and care for her. I’m not perfect, I’ve lost it in moments of her mental breaks. Staying calm and not lashing out, is what helps my soul, the most. It gives me peace to know I’m loving her, through these most difficult moments. I process it all slowly, through writing and talking, after a rage has happened. Mark tends to go into himself, he will talk when asked but, he may not offer information, without encouragement. 

After this rage, we knew we needed help. We both knew it was a turning point in our lives and unless we changed the course, it was going to continue to get worse. 

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Almond Milk, part three

 As I said before, my phone starts blowing up, we have many who know us, who know Teale, in our small community. People call, text, let me know Mark needs support. I’m on my way, when Mark, himself calls me. I tell him I’m coming and we decide I’ll pull up close, hopefully, he can get her out to me. He has others nearby, security of the store, a manager who knows him, but everyone is helpless. As I pull into the parking lot, next to his car, he’s walking out, Teale is calm, two other men are nearby. Mark and I can generally tell, if, she’s safe, if driving with her will be ok. Teale wants to get in my car. Mark still needs to pay for the groceries and I’m guessing apologize. We barely talk to each other, knowing, it will not be helpful in the moment. I’ll take Teale, he’ll deal with the staff. I won’t hear the whole story until much later, processing can be difficult for us, it knocks us emotionally, sometimes for several days. This one would be in the top ten, a twisted mental list, Mark and I have of the worst rages. It would unsettle our trust and make us fearful to be in public with Teale. This would be a turning point in changes that would need to happen to eventually improve her quality of life and ours. I drove the ten minutes home in silence. Knowing, all I wanted in this moment was to get her inside the safety of our home. At home, we can control the environment more so, keeping objects that could be thrown away from her. Often, if we can get her to the couch, in the living room, that is her calming place. She can get herself back to stable. She may yell, rock back and forth, but it’s not as scary as in public. In public, none of us are “in control.” The environment changes in public, the people are unpredictable. We’ve experienced too many who say hurtful things to us. We’ve had people who think it’s our fault, a disciplinary problem, we have, that could be solved. Brain damage is tricky, it’s unpredictable and tough to stabilize her mental health. Medications are processed differently in everyone, but Teale’s brain damage makes the process of knowing what, and how much, she needs, very specific to her alone. Mark, myself and Teale’s doctors need to read Teale, constantly, to make informed decisions about her care. Teale is on an antipsychotic medication, which has made our lives more stable. It has calmed Teale’s mood’s, giving her a better quality of life. But body chemistry changes, hormones, environment, what she chooses to eat or drink in a given day, how much sleep she gets, it all factors in. It’s complicated in a typical person who can communicate. Teale isn’t able to give us abstract thoughts. She can’t tell us when medication makes her feel good or bad. All the side effects of medications that are unseen, we have to be attuned to. Had the antipsychotic medication that had helped for years, run it’s course? 

Mark would slowly fill me in over several days. Processing takes time. You forget when in that kind of stress. The details get lost in your mind. We have to process together, what this all means for Teale. Would a medication change be coming. Would she need new doctors? The psychiatrist we had been working with had left the practice. At this time, we could only get a consultation with him and Teale’s PCP. If the antipsychotic medication had run the course, what was next? More questions, than answers would run through our heads. Mark and I process it all differently. Which is helpful in many ways. We both want the best for Teale, we both need peace and know living in fear is not an option. I can not live in unpredictably. Mark needs us all to be safe. 

Sadly, it will be many months, before we are on the road to a new plan that helps Teale. 

To be continued…

Saturday, February 17, 2024

Almond Milk ~ part 2

 As usual, Teale would start to put the groceries on the conveyor belt. Mark joking every week that Teale was “his assistant.” He hadn’t figured out what had turned her mood to sour or how to get her out of it, then it happened. She picked up an Almond milk carton high above the conveyor belt and before Mark could stop it, she slammed it down so hard it exploded open! Almond milk sprayed all over the groceries, the woman ahead in line and her groceries, the impulse stuff in the aisle, everywhere! Then Teale started screaming at the top of her lungs and went to push over the cart of groceries, or anything she could get her hands on. Mark had to grab her to get her to a more empty space, so she couldn’t start throwing stuff at others. The only place to go was back, where people line up, to check out. I need to explain to those not familiar, this is Pittsford Wegmans, it is the mothership or all Wegmans, the one the owners visit regularly on Saturday mornings. They talk to Mark and Teale often, and Mark has shared some of Teale’s story with them. Saturday mornings are busy, it is crowded and loud. But, Mark would tell me later, if not for Teale’s screaming, you could hear a pin drop. The customers hushed, the screaming continued and Mark stood by watching Teale flail on the ground. She was out of control trying to hit, kick, throw things and the screaming, drew much attention. Her voice so loud people who were shopping that day and knew us, went to Mark to try to help. I started receiving texts and calls that Mark was in trouble at Wegmans. Fear shot through me, Daniel Prue, always in my mind and heart, I knew instinctively, this was a rage that could bring police. Thankful he was someplace where many knew and loved us. I prayed for Teale’s safety, as I rushed to get ready to go to Wegmans. People came to Mark, strangers, neighbors, friends of ours, employees who knew us, and even Teale’s Aunt, happened to be there, and recognized Teale’s voice. The person that really stood out, was a young pharmacy technician, named Jen. She had developed a love of Teale, we are at the pharmacy a lot. Teale struggles with so many physical and mental issues, medication has been a huge part of our lives with her. Jen came up to Mark and asked if she could sit with Teale. I am teary, just writing and remembering this. Here Teale is screaming, hitting and biting herself, wanting to hurt Mark, knock over or throw whatever she could and Jen asks Mark if she can sit with her? Mark and I both stay back when Teale is upset, we know we can be the target. Mark tells Jen that he can’t guarantee her safety, that Teale may strike out at her. She chooses to sit with Teale anyways. Teale doesn’t lash out at Jen. Jen quietly talks to Teale, her love and compassion in this moment a gift to all of us. A police officer does appear, Mark, unsure if he happened to be there, or if he was called. Mark is able to explain to him that Teale does not understand his authority and to please just let him handle the situation. The only way to get Teale through these brutal moments, is time and patience. You can’t force her to leave, or calm her with words. Time is the only thing that works, just waiting her out, until she comes back to us. In these moments Mark and I have learned to be calm, to not rock the boat, in any way. We’ve learned to stay back for our safety, to keep others away. But, Mark is in a crowded store, in a highly trafficked area. People should see the situation and avoid walking there, but many don’t. People stare, people judge, but our skin is tough. We’ve been hurt by many over the years, who don’t understand Teale has severe brain injury, from her birth. They don’t understand, it is by no fault of hers, or ours, that these moments occur, that control over her emotions is lost. 

To be continued… 


Friday, October 13, 2023

Almond Milk

 I barely remember the last time I wrote… So much has happened in our lives since. The ugliest Summer was last year, in 2022. Teale became very mentally unstable and the extreme violent behavior was back. We struggled with how to help her, knowing the antipsychotic medication she was on, was no longer effective. There was no room for an increase and because she had already failed so many medications, we were lost. Her primary care physician fought to help us, as we slowly drowned, in the despair. It was tough to get up everyday, knowing Teale may explode at any minute. Being bigger, stronger and completely unfiltered in her rages, Teale had me beat. I could not control her safely, I could not help her to calm. I was scared and basically living in PTSD all the time. Mark missed a lot of work to keep us all safe. There were many days we couldn’t send Teale to her dayhab, the safety of others was our priority. Mark and I always prefer her behaviors happen at home, with just us. The thought of Teale hurting others and also, the way others may respond to her in a rage, terrifying. When she’s in a rage, the first instinct of others may be to restrain, yet, often, we have found, if you can get her to a safe place, she will “come back” to us, in her own time. Restraint is not only difficult with such a large person, it is very dangerous. Sadly, individuals die from improper restraint. Mark and I trust each other to not hurt Teale, but it is impossible for us to trust anyone else. Ruthless, cunning, unfiltered are just a few adjectives I would use to describe her in a rage. She does not play fair! Teale will bite, kick, pinch, pull hair, scratch, throw anything she can and spit. In COVID times, her spitting became one of the worst things she could do in public. 

A mentally ill man in our community was restrained by police, with a “spit hood” on. His name was Daniel Prude and he died of  “complications of asphyxia, in the setting of physical restraint.” Daniel was in a mental break and the restraint that was done, was the cause of his death. Imagine how this incident has affected the community and people who care for a of a mentally ill person. It’s heartbreaking to me that all this man needed was compassion and care, that Daniel was suffering. Instead of recognizing that, power and pain was used on him to control. Mental health breaks, in public, are my biggest fear. At home, I know we have some level of control. In the public, people could overreact, police could be called, Teale could be restrained and put in a spit hood. Daniel Prude died, his death taught me that a mentally ill person is not treated with compassion. Daniel Prude should be alive, but fear and power killed him, instead of getting him the medical help he deserved. 

Teale, is a white female, always in the care of people who love her. This is the only thing, that gives me comfort, in the times she is mentally unstable. It also makes me hurt for Daniel’s family. They called the police for help, instead, Daniel died. I’m convinced his race was a factor, if you don’t know the whole story, Google it, it’s devastating. The loss of Daniel and all that lead up to his death, emphasizes the lack of understanding mental health. My biggest fears came true for Daniel Prude and his family. 

So, in one of Teale’s public rages, during this very unstable time, I can not deny, I was glad she was a white female. I was glad it was my husband with her. 

The rage was on a Saturday morning, in December. It was one of the first signs that things were going downhill for Teale. Her sleep had been completely off, she had been waking for the day, as early as 2am. This sleep pattern started in December 2020, we knew it was triggered by the addition of a medication her PCP believed would help her rising behaviors and anxiety. The advice we were given was that her body would get used to the medication and she would sleep normally again. We saw a little relief from the medication, so we persisted through. By December of 2021, Teale had not slept, the entire year, past 4am, except maybe a handful of times. I was the one getting up with her daily. Then, I would go to sleep as early as 7:30pm, if I had been up since 2am. It was a brutal stage, that lasted approximately a year and a half. Writing that baffles even myself, who lived through this. How could we persist a year and a half on a medication that caused insomnia. Well, honestly, I’m not sure. I do believe we had no other options at the time. We were waiting to get her into a new psychiatrist because her’s had left the PCP’s practice. I also believe there were thoughts she was “just in a bad pattern.” She’d come out of it. I know we tried sleep medications, we tweaked medications, we waited and we prayed. Sometimes in our life, it feels like it is Mark and I against the world. We feel alone, like no one else really understands and or believes the stage we are in. I believe in this, we felt that way. Getting into a new psychiatrist seemed impossible. The medication that was suggested, was difficult to get on. Teale had failed so many antipsychotic medications, that a last resort medication was being suggested. Our son, who is a nurse in psychiatric care, had seen this medication as a miracle for some. We were anxious to make the switch, but month’s would go by before we could see the new psychiatrist. 

The incident was at Wegmans. It was December of 2021. In the month of December, Teale dresses in Christmas clothes. It’s something fun we started several years ago, just the week before Christmas, but has expanded to the entire month, because her Christmas clothes collection continues to grow. Gifts given on her December 9th Birthday, have contained fun Christmas clothes. As the collection got bigger, I decided why not make December a fun month of all these clothes? 

Every Saturday morning Mark and Teale do the family grocery shopping. It is at the same location and usually about the same time. Teale and Mark are known there. They often make friends with other routine shoppers who they see every week and they have friendly relationships with staff. We’ve gotten Teale’s medication at the same Wegmans pharmacy for all of Teale’s life. The staff is pretty consistent and friendly. They help us through insurance glitches, doctors not responding to new prescription requests, etc. Mark is friendly, kind and patient as he helps Teale through grocery shopping, people notice this, and it attracts kindness from strangers. 

It’s a juggling act getting Teale through any public place. We have to be aware of everything going on around us. As an example, a young curious child staring at Teale, can throw her into a rage. She is very observant of other people’s behavior towards her. She watches everything and feels much. 

It was a normal Saturday morning, Teale dressed for Christmas and excited to show her friends at Wegmans her Christmas outfit. Somewhere around the back of the store, Mark saw and felt a shift in Teale’s behavior. He instinctively knew he need to get out of there. Teale can be impossible to get out of a public setting once her mood shifts, so, we play a bit of a song and dance to accomplish this. Careful to not escalate the situation, Mark said something about being done and headed to the cashiers. He has her help put groceries on the conveyor belt as he tries to talk her back to happiness. The thoughts going through his head, are to just get out of the store, before her simmering mood, blows. He’ll talk to her about fun things coming up or fun things that have passed, he just wants to find one thing that she will cling to and then turns her mood back to more stable. It doesn’t always work and this day, he would not get out safely. 


To be continued…. 


Thursday, September 8, 2022

The Toilet part 2

 As the water rushed toward me, Teale stood in the bathroom, in shock. Water flooded around her, through the bathroom and out into the hallway. Mark went running to the main water line, I pushed past Teale to turn off the water to the toilet. Of course, the water in the tank, had to empty completely. The shock of what happened was enough to stop Teale’s bad mood in its tracks. So Mark and I worked to clean up, as fast as possible. Sadly, it went through the floor, to our master bathroom below. Our new Master bedroom and bathroom, only completed 6 months earlier, would also be damaged. Living with Teale can frustrate beyond words, but, both Mark and I are good at compartmentalizing. It’s her brain damage/mental instability that causes these rages and frustrations, it’s not her fault. We often go back to her birth, and how her brain damage could’ve been prevented. This may sound like we are stuck in the past, and not moving forward, but I think in some ways, it just helps us to deal with the present. None of this is Teale‘s fault. Doctors failed her and us. If she haven’t sat in Maconian for hours and there had been a emergency C-section, would she be okay today? I often pray in these moments of frustration. I pray for clarity, for peace, for calm, for Teale to feel loved, and respected. If I can get myself out of my head and my frustration, in the moment thinking about her, and how it must feel to be her, it helps me. It helps me to look beyond my anger, and pain, and to just focus on her being a child of God. 

Mark and I continue to clean up the mess, we are pretty good at this kind of thing, both grabbing fans, and the dehumidifier, trying to dry it all out fast is the key to not having lasting damage. 

Somehow, we also pull her and ourselves together. We get Teale ready and out the door for the van. Teale’s day program runs from about 8 AM pick up to 3 PM drop off. This time gives me the opportunity to do other things, besides care for Teale. 

With her out the door, I call our friend and handyman. He has worked with us for a few years now and has witnessed Teale in rages. He knows the power of her and how our life is often controlled by her moods. I explain what happened and that we’re going to need a new toilet. He comes over that day to remove the broken toilet, capping off the water lines. I’ve been wanting a new floor laid in this bathroom, and I actually already had the flooring bought. We discuss his putting the floor down, during this time that the toilet is removed already. It will delay the process of getting a toilet in, but in the long run, it will be worth it. He is a busy guy and can’t get to my job right away, but will be back later in the week. 

I’m gonna skip ahead here… He comes back and lays the new floor, which takes approximately a day. I’ve ordered a new toilet and pick that up. As the guys at the store, loaded it into my car, I hear what sounds like something broken. When Mark and I open the box at home and take a quick look, we don’t see anything wrong, so we just shut the box back up. This will come back to bite us…

The night after the floor has been installed, I get up to go to the bathroom about 3AM, and there is water, raining through my ceiling, again. I wake Mark and run upstairs to look, sure enough the capped off lines are leaking all over. The shut off valve is shot and I can’t turn it off. This time we have to turn off the main waterline to stop the leak. 

Mark and I go into clean up mode again hoping our ceiling isn’t further damaged. 

When our handyman returns the next morning to the news of what happened, he discovers there’s water under the new floor he had laid. It all needs to be pulled back up, to dry out completely. Plus, installing the new shut off valve’s isn’t something he’s comfortable doing, so a plumber has to be called in. More money, more time… Here we thought the toilet was going to be installed today, but instead, the flooring is pulled back up. Fans running to dry out underneath the vanity, don’t seem to be working so he drills holes through it to try and get some airflow going. The plumber comes, we have new shut off valves installed in both the upstairs bathroom, and in our powder room, as a preventative measure. The costs are adding up and I just keep telling myself, be grateful you can do all this, without too much hardship. 

The next day our handyman comes back to lay the new floor, again. Sadly, when he goes to put the new toilet in, it’s discovered, it really is broken. At this point I’m more mad at myself, for not going with my gut that I heard something broken. Back to Home Depot, I go, to return the broken toilet and get another. I’ve lost another day. It’s now the weekend and we still don’t have a toilet, in the upstairs, five days after the incident. 

The next Monday, the 2nd new toilet is finally installed. Our handyman needs to go back to a job he has abandoned, to fit us in, in this emergency. So he can’t do all the trimming out of the floor at this time, but he’ll be back. 

In the end the new flooring is nice, the bright side of this whole disaster. 

When I think about all the different things that have happened in rages. From broken car windshields, to a broken toilet, I am grateful Mark and I get through these crisis’ without it hurting our love for each other. The reality is, couples like us, often break up. The stress, and often, couples blame each other. When Teale was born, we were told the divorce rate was approximately 90%, when it comes to couple’s, of a child, with disabilities. Somehow that percentage, made us fight harder. I guess I’m grateful, that we’re both stubborn, and saw that statistic as a challenge. May love prevail and hope, always endure. 

Sunday, June 26, 2022

The Toilet part 1

This took place on May 23rd.

 In general, I feel like I’m a hopeful person. I look for the good &/or the lesson in any situation. Most of the time, I can know the next day will be better, but yesterday I struggled with our life. Mark and I have been challenged a lot lately, there are a few different things that have really been tearing at our hearts. I’m sad, defeated feeling and questioning my faith. At times like this it is difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Mark and I have always agreed on keeping Teale in our care, but lately I have questioned this more and more. 

Last week, very early in the morning or maybe it was more like the middle of the night? I guess I should share some background first. About a year and half ago, Teale stopped sleeping through until morning. Her internal clock was off, a new medication to help her mental instability, caused insomnia? Honestly, with Teale, it’s tough to say the what and why. So for about 18 months she’s been waking me anytime from 12am to 4:30am. It’s tough to even write this without questioning what I’m saying. The sleep deprivation has been so severe that I often question myself. It’s like living in a constant dream state. 

So, with that background, last week, one morning, I was up with her about 3am. She has this habit of picking her face. It’s something I’m constantly trying to help her to stop. It can get obsessive, if she has a pimple or something, it scars, she picks it to bleeding, it almost heals, she picks it again. That morning, she had a scab that was on its way to healing. I was hopeful and grateful it was was almost healed. Then she did it again, picked the scab. It was bleeding pretty heavily, so she got a tissue in the bathroom and came back to the couch. I was in a chair nearby and got up to see her face. I said to her ~ “Teale let me see.” I wanted to see if it was bleeding badly and try to help. Immediately she attacked me. Instantly taking me down, scratching my face, pulling my hair, she had me trapped by gripping my hair in her hand. I couldn’t get her to release. I didn’t have my cell to call for help, Mark was downstairs, far enough away, sleeping soundly. As she was ripping hair from my head, my face buried into her arm, my only defense, biting her to get her to release. It worked, she released, but then it was still a battle. Me just trying to stay safe, her trying to hurt me, throw, knock over, break, anything she could. She’s without filter in these rages. Just attacking in anyway she can. Somehow in the mist of it all, I was able to grab my cell, then getting her in a position where I had the upper hand, I called Mark’s cell. As soon as he answered I said ~ “Help me, help me, help me!” He was upstairs in a flash and took over. Waiting out these rages is our only method. But, depending on if she’s attacking, it can be even more brutal to do this. Sometimes we need to keep her, our selves and the house safe. In those times, we are generally have to hold her, as best we can. This has become increasingly difficult. Her size is the biggest issue for me, but also that she is ruthless. As I said, Mark took over, it was only about 4:15am, which meant we had plenty of recovery time before her van came for program. The exhaustion is brutal, I’m missing life at night, when I often go to bed right after dinner. I’m not sure how Teale is doing it. So that’s an illustration of how things can go terribly wrong… 

Monday was another awful morning. We are also stuck in this cycle of Teale wanting to see a doctor. She insists on something being wrong and to pacify her, Mark would often tell her whatever she wanted. Things like, she would see a dr next week, or she would get a brace or a cast soon. It may sound strange, but imagine living in it. Teale often bullies and controls us by the threat of a rage. Somehow, pacifying her, hoping she would move on without all Hell breaking loose, often seems easier. Well, I could never verbalize well why I thought the pacifying was actually just prolonging our torture. Then we started working with a counselor who specializes in working with people who are diagnosed with intellectual disabilities. I tried, with her, to explain my concern, it clicked and we understood each other. The empty promises used to work when she was younger, but now it exasperates her obsessions. She gets stuck in a vicious cycle. Well, Mark finally got it too! It took him a bit longer to buy into “the lying was creating more anxiety.” But explaining it in different ways help him to get “because what he told her, would never come true” it made her not trust and have worse anxiety. The only way to explain how he fell into this trap, is to understand living with a constant master bully! Teale has nothing more to do than to keep at us until she gets what she wants. She can say over and over again that she wants to see the doctor and eventually, Mark would say something like, 2 weeks from tomorrow… Again, without living in it, you might judge and think you would do it differently. Believe me, I know I used to think I could “fix Teale.” She’s come a long way and yes, much is better, but we often, still hang on by the skin of our teeth! 

So, back to Monday morning, Mark was really trying to stick to the plan of not pacifying with empty promises. Teale was amped up because she wasn’t getting the answers she wanted. A bit of a rage, throwing her breakfast, we waited it out, she had to pick up what she threw. She wasn’t completely settled but Mark thought she was calm enough to push forward on getting ready for her DayHab program. He took her to the bathroom and shortly after, that’s when I heard him scream -“SHIT, SHE BROKE THE TOILET….” Water rushing into the hallway, I knew he meant broke, as in shattered the porcelain tank. 


To be continued…