A Life is a Precious Thing to Waste

 Yesterday was my youngest daughter's 18th birthday. This was a day we all looked forward to. She looked to it as the day she could finally walk away, do her own thing without anyone telling her no. For me personally, I was looking forward to not being legally responsible for her actions. The road to this day was paved with anger and sadness. 

If you've been reading this blog for the past few years, you know our little family of four became a family of six nine years ago. We adopted KK  and Lost Girl, not fully understanding what we were getting into. 

Mistakes were made. Our lack of knowledge and frankly our ridged parenting skills, paired with two emotionally damaged kids, equalled heartbreak for all.

Yet, we also grew in our understanding of mental illness, trauma and how to love the unlovable. We learned how to stand our ground, how to protect and how to let go. 

It's the letting go that is the hardest for me. I want to fix. I want to make people listen and change. I think I'm right even if I'm not. I want to pour all the love and goodness I can into little broken souls.

Life had other plans.

On Friday, December 12, Lost Girl tried to take her own life. She nearly succeeded. 

Today is day is day five of our hospital stay. With each passing day she grows stronger. Her mind is fixated on home and her friends, but not on her healing. She cannot understand why everyone believes she's a danger to herself. She's scared and hurting. 

And I cannot fix it.

From my helpless post, I encourage, I rub her back, I try to feed her body and soul. I hold her hand and love her the best I can. I plead with God to heal her, just like I begged him to spare her life, five days ago.

Lost Girl is facing demons that she has tried to outrun. She's blamed others for her troubles and lied and cheated her way through life. She's carried burdens her small form should have never lifted and now she's reached the crossroads.

To the left is inpatient treatment and to the right is the road back to where she came from. The left holds the possibility of recovery and wellness. The right is another suicide attempt, with greater possibility of success.

And all I can do is sit back and let the doctors try to help her. 

In the next few days she will be medically stable enough to move to a treatment center. It's a walk she will physically makes alone. She's scared. She's angry. 

I'm hopeful.

I'm letting go. Not because I want to, but because I have to. I'll still be here, encouraging, cheering her on, but I guess I understand now that healing will com from within her with the help of professionals.

I'm letting go because I have to. I'm letting go because I love her.