“Welcome students to your first introduction class…..” The instructor’s voice floats through the house. She’s dusted off the outdated home computer and somehow managed to get it operational enough to download Zoom to start her course. She listens and engages for about an hour, then she starts to lose interest.

“….. so if you look on this part of the screen….” She shoots me a sideways glance.

‘I think I’m going to need to double up on my ADHD meds.’ Yes, my darling. Yes indeed.

‘Well, you’re seeing Dr. B soon. Maybe ask her.’

I answer her while tying my shoes, amazed at how calm my response comes out. Inside, I’m anything but calm. My mind, as always, is churning and whirring. As she re-invents herself, it means I have to adjust as well. As the instructor keeps talking, I keep thinking.

….tests of 100 multiple choice questions. She’s going to need support with that. Studying is NOT her strong point.

….practical weeks. Perfect. She’s all about the hands-on.

…microbiology. Oh sweet Jesus.

What I hear through the computer is progress. Progress. Recovery. Planning. Future.

Re-invention.

This past week saw her say goodbye to the last associate of her past life. It was hard; painful. Cleansing.

‘Why don’t I feel sad? I should feel sad, but I feel…. relieved.’

I just look at her and smile. ‘It was hard but you are going to be glad you did it. You’re at peace. It’s called Jesus.’

She turns her attention to looking ahead. Commenting on how busy she is going to be anyways. School, work. Then she gets worried that she won’t be able to manage it all. ‘My mental health….’ comes out often.

If you would have told me in March that we would be here in less than a year, I don’t think I would have been able to hear that. I was so consumed with adjusting myself to meet her where she was at. It was sometimes an hourly tweak. Many times I didn’t get it right. The times I did were powerful and profound and it is those times that have carried us through the rough spots.

Often, readjustment comes totally out of the blue. One minute she is in the kitchen talking and laughing; 5 minutes later she comes out of her bedroom in tears. It’s constant thinking on our feet and I never know how long it is going to take. Sometimes an hour, other times longer.

Like pushing Play-Doh into a mold, I find myself readjusting my approach and responses to meet her where she is at; to get the best possible outcome; to give her the opportunity to get the best out of herself.

I don’t feel I am at the mercy of my daughter; quite the opposite. Over the years, all of the ‘tough love’ and the ‘boundaries’ ended in chaos, reckless decision-making, and impulsivity. That is because people with certain mental disorders see the world differently. What many see as boundaries, our daughter views as rejection. There are many different ways to have boundaries and I have had to learn how to let go without turning away. Some days it’s pretty darn hard. Some days walking out the door looks pretty attractive.

I’m working with a young person who has been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. She hasn’t had a great childhood (hence my involvement) and has no supportive or healthy family. Her social worker talks about how frustrating the young person is; how she makes bad choices and is self-destructive. I listen on the phone, mostly annoyed and irritated at this social worker’s rude demeanor and approach to this girl. I find myself thinking that one of the main differences between this girl and my own daughter is a supportive family, knowing about a God who loves her, and a mother who absolutely refuses to back down from this fight.

I don’t judge people who have felt they need to estrange themselves from their loved one(s) because of addictions or mental health issues that create havoc and pain. I used to. Now I know that is neither helpful nor constructive. Now I stand with them and weep with them and concentrate on how much love they have for that person to the point where their heart hurts. And I talk to them about reinventing themselves and readjusting. Some people feel they can and others feel they can’t. We are where we are.