My loved one called at 7am this morning. I answered because I was asleep and wasn’t fully aware of where the phone call was from.

So, here’s his story (the best I can cobble it together.)

He flew to Las Vegas. He met a Korean guy there and they spent the evening together (not really sure why that was important for me to know- but OK). Then he flew to NYC to get away from all of us (he says). He went to the hospital in NY to have them document the “stab wounds” to his thigh from the other hospital.

I’m guessing the stab wounds were shots to calm him down, but I chose not to interrupt.

He said that they kept him for one day at that other place and let him go because they couldn’t legally keep him. Note to family- if I’m ever insane, don’t take me to California- take me to New York.

He said he “kind of” trusts the psychiatrist there, which is good news. He also had a court hearing and lost (also good news.) He didn’t ask me to get him out of there (more good news), but wants me to call a woman whose son supposedly set up the charitable trust where all the millions are supposed to “drop”.

He wants me to call them because he wants to “keep his promises” (I’m guessing that means, divvy out the millions of dollars).

He sounds a little more like himself- he actually asked me if I was OK twice (pretty sure he heard the stress in my voice), which he hasn’t asked before. I told him I was fine. I told him I was glad he wasn’t yelling at me.

He said that they’re not telling him what’s wrong with him and asked me if I knew. I said that I only was only told that he needed help.

I'm whirling the idea in my head whether to call her or not call her. I've made calls for him several times and they've all told me, "I don't know what you're talking about." When I share that with my loved one, he says that's what they were supposed to say. It's really hard to have that twirling around in my head.

Twirling and whirling in the same paragraph. That pretty much sums up my head bright and early this morning.

No Valium for me for a couple of days because I start the three-day ambulatory EEG this afternoon. Valium affects the results.

I suppose that this situation I'm in and how my brain is affected, is the very thing the neurologist needs to see. It's stress (physical or mental) that makes my body lose control. I'm about as stressed as I'll ever be.

New York laws are different than CA laws regarding involuntary commitment. Sixty days instead of 72 hours. I don't know a lot about this type of illness, but I would think in 60 days there will be some clarity of mind achieved through medication.

My loved one is SUCH an awesome person. He's the first person to volunteer to help someone. His neighbors (before all of this) loved him because he loved helping the elderly in his town. We both have a 'thing' for the elderly.

My loved one DESERVES to be well. The world is truly a better place with my loved one in it. He has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know.

I know that I shouldn't set myself up for disappointment, but I'm doing it anyway.

I think my loved one now has a fighting chance of getting the help he needs. I feel so sad that he's alone and probably feels like his family doesn't love him because I haven't "saved" him from this place. I hope that one day he'll return to the loved one I know and that loved one will know that I was out here rooting for him the whole time. THAT loved one knows that I love him fiercely.

I talked with his psychiatrist and case worker this morning and shared everything that I know. Going forward, unless he calls, I'll be in the dark due to HIPAA. I believe HIPAA is a good thing, so I'm OK with that.

Here's to hoping that in sixty days or less, I'll hear from the loved one that I know and love.

I just completed a find and replace of all names (except Einstein!). No telling how my posts will read, since I did a global find/replace and didn't have the opportunity to accept or reject.

Since I'm going to be "messy" here, I've decided to wipe out all names except mine. Though my blog isnt searchable, I wanted to ensure the privacy of my family.

I saw my "normal" doctor (I have so many damned specialists!) today about more Valium. I was told by the neurologist who referred me to her that this doctor was not warm and cozy. She was all business. That was fine with me because I have plenty of hands holding mine.... Just need a doctor for what ails me.

Edited to add: Oops, I already wrote about seeing my doctor.

I've never seen this side of her. Probably because in the seven years we've been together, she's never seen this side of me. She said that Valium was short term (I knew that.. That's why I'm in therapy!) and because she thinks this situation will probably be long term, she doesn't want me to become addicted. I'm in complete agreement. Can you even imagine adding addiction to my list of issues? NO THANK YOU.

I haven't taken much of it so far. Lots of times it's just enough to know it's in my cupboard just in case I've had a particularly bad panic attack after a phone call.

Have I mentioned that I'm having an automatic reaction to the phone ringing? I'd turn it off, but I'm trying to run a business here.....

Anyway, she put me on anti-depressants to help support the underlying CONSTANT state of stress. Crossing fingers that it works.

I'm not a 24 hour mess, by the way. I try to get it all out before the hubs comes home. I couldn't imagine having to worry about what sort of wife I'm coming home to every day.

Also had my second therapy session with the new therapist. I REALLY like her. She used to treat abused kids and other stuff that is all part of the psychological makeup of yours truly. I probably will never fully disclose everything here. Just part of the layers.

My therapist told me today that she thought about me all week because she can't believe all the stuff I'm dealing with, especially considering the "layers". I walked out of there with my head held high because she said that I'm the definition of survivor. I really needed to hear that, especially from a professional.

We talked about the relationship that ended a couple of years ago that I thought would destroy me. It didn't. I now refer to that relationship as someone who died, because it's just easier to explain. I spoke with a Hospice counselor (one that I'd worked with in my volunteering days) back when it first happened, because i felt like I could no longer handle volunteering for grief and bereavement. I was too afraid that I'd cry at inappropriate times. She said that what happened is actually more difficult to work through because that person still exists and it's like a carrot dangling in front of me.

The counselor today said the same thing.

I think that the mere fact that I'm willing to write again, come what may, means that I've given up on that relationship.

Layers and layers and layers. I thought I'd worked through a lot of the childhood trauma over the four times I've sought counseling in my adult years. My counselor today said that my reactions to situations are cellular and deep, especially when it comes to my siblings. I was the oldest and I put myself in the position of protector. That's a very hard role to give up. It's a role that I will work VERY hard in giving up.

I'm thankful that I sought counseling before I developed unhealthy relationships/boundaries with my sons. I'm also thankful that I was at my best self when I married the hubs, because that relationship remains good and strong. It had/has a good foundation and I have no doubt that will continue, especially now that I'm allowing him to see me at my most vulnerable self. I didn't give him enough credit for his ability to support me in despair (I know, drama word- but that word fits like a glove.)

I'm going to be OK. I feel it deep in my soul. I have such amazing friends, kids, family (admittedly cobbled together family in some cases!) and husband. I feel loved and cherished. I'm taking that and running with it.

I've alluded to a lot of stuff on Facebook, but not come out with the story because my loved one and I share some common friends. Those friends know nothing about my blog, so I'm comfortable in writing about it here. If you're my friend on FB, then you must be so confused!

Sometime around the 3rd week of January, my loved one had a psychotic break. This has never happened to him before and I've never been around psychosis before, so all of this is very frightening and stressful.

I didn't understand the true depth of the dilusional thinking until my birthday (01/31). He was picked up by the sheriff's office and one of his neighbors had the whole thing on speakerphone for me to hear. What I heard will be forever seared into my brain, "Happy birthday Lori, I did this all for you." over and over again in a voice that I hardly recognized.

From that point to today (and probably ongoing for quite some time), my daily life has consisted of a series of calls from a manic and/or angry loved one (angry because I wouldn't do the things he'd asked me to do, like hire an attorney to get him out of the various psych holds), his angry neighbors who have my phone numbers (home and cell), and various hospitals who have my loved one in a 72 hour hold (if that long.) My daily life has also consisted of trying to take proactive measures in getting help for my loved one.

On top of everything else (I'll backfill as time goes on, but suffice it to say that I've suffered a series of losses in the last two years that I haven't dealt with properly), I've been running my business and trying not to let ALL OF IT ruin what I've built. I have people who work for me and count on me to provide an income.

I'm taking proactive measures in self-care because I've had many very fragile moments. I can't allow myself to go down the rabbit hole, though it feels that I've been circling that hole for a while. To be honest, I started circling that hole about two years ago but have forced myself to remain afloat. Right now, self care consists of weekly therapy (today is my second session), Valium (weeeeee!), and pushing back a little. Or a lot....

The people-pleasing days are over, my friends.

I hope.

Two weekends ago, I had a seizure. All of the symptoms from the 2007 head bonking incident are present and accounted for these days. I'm walking like a drunk, falling down and am having problems forming sentences. I'm not completely back to that point In time because as you can see, I CAN write and unless I'm in an acute stress (for example right after receiving a call), I can speak intelligently. I knew after that seizure that my body/brain was overload and I needed to do something immediately to take care of myself.

How many years have I been writing in my blog that I need to learn self-care and that I KNEW the lessons would be worse and worse until I finally "got" it? I think you're witnessing the brick wall tumbling down on my head and I have no choice but to care for myself.

I keep reminding myself that if I don't take care of myself then I will be taking down many people with me who don't deserve that. I see how one person's actions can cause a catastrophic chain of events. I don't want to be that person.

I realize catastrophic is a very dramatic word, but it's the right word in this case.

Yesterday, I received a call from a hospital in NYC. My loved one was there and it was immediately clear to them that he needed help. How he got there from where he lives is anyone's guess. For the first time in six(?) weeks, I feel a teeny-tiny bit hopeful that this is where he'll get the help he needs. I've told the doctor that my loved one is extremely smart (it's in the genes!) and told her everything he'd said and done up to that point. I wanted her to have full disclosure in case he tried to act "sane". Apparently he can appear stable enough when he needs to, in order to get out of a hold.

I don't want my loved one in that scary place all by himself, so along with the disclosure comes a lot of guilt. I'm not going to share the delusions here, even though I know that this is a safe place to post, out of respect for my loved one. If I thought that he was just a happy nut, I wouldn't be so passionate about getting him treatment. Unfortunately, the situation is well beyond "oh, that's just my nutty relative."

So, my immediate job in therapy is to find a way to let go of the guilt and responsibility. Then I'll work out the other stuff.

Wow, it feels good to write honestly again.