You’d think after 15 years or so, I’d gotten a grip on this.
I have learned to lower my expectations. Be flexible. Take joy in the glimpses of my son prior to the illness but embrace who he is without grief.
He has been unmedicated but coping. Was learning to let go of some delusions…not all but some. Beginning to trust. Even relaxing his need to be constantly on guard. Not optimal, but not terrible either. But then the darkness started to seep in. I should have known the last time I saw him more was going on beneath the surface. His constant “something is going on” should have alerted me.
Almost 2 years to the day of the last crisis it begins again. He is now in jail. I could post bail as it is very low and really a misdemeanor offense. But jail got him evaluated and routed into the mental health system. I may get to see him tomorrow. The officers have been kind they assure me he is isolated from general population and safe. However he is having food issues (not surprising) and clothing issues (a new one).
But I learned tonight it could be months before he is moved from jail to a facility. MONTHS!! My friends feel bad for me, but don’t really grasp the depth of the worry and frustration. His brothers are supportive but they are my children too, so I try not to fall apart in front of them. But this…this is breaking me.