Saturday, April 23, 2016

Oh My God

Kenny just called from jail. To me he is still not stable. His thinking is irrational. He thinks when he gets out he can have two black labs. He told us he is very good with animals.

He also told another girl has got "his kid in her belly"

I can't even think.

Friday, April 22, 2016


I'm not talking about being committed to getting clean. No he has been forced to do that, but not before he tried to have me (his mom) COMMITTED to a rehab facility.

His mind is swirling with thoughts that no one understands except him. I went back down to where he was living, less than a week,  after our Easter visit. His housemates called me and told me he was crazy and stealing their stuff. He had found a girl on the street that he brought to the house who was ordering everyone around. Police had been called. I thought I could help him. I was so wrong.

The first day he screamed and yelled at me. The second day I begged him with tears running down my face to please go to lunch with me so we could talk. I knew he had to be starving. That was an interesting day. After lunch he wanted to go to one of his many old rehab facilities and speak with one of the counselors. In my mind I thought this was a good thing. The counselor was on the phone, so we waited. I tried to tell the receptionist what was going on and that he probably wouldn't leave until he saw the counselor. We waited and we waited and we waited. Finally I looked at Kenny who was sitting across the parking lot from me, talking to himself or someone I couldn't see; I was hoping maybe we could come back. Kenny had other plans. He looked at me and said, "Mom just give me your keys and you stay here" I was every confused "what?" "Mom you need to be here, you take way to much medication, you'll be fine." With that I got in my car and drove off leaving him sitting there.

I went around the block and unfortunately had to drive past him as he was walking back to his house. He blew up again at me with wonderful words and flipping birds. He proceeded to flip off several cars, yelling the entire time. I called the police again. They had been called everyday for the past 3 days. They knew the situation. They told me how sorry they were. They could see he was in a psychotic state but if he wasn't a threat to himself or others they could do nothing.

The third day I went over early in the morning with a drink that he likes and half of a breakfast burrito. I saw him walking toward his home. I knew he didn't sleep at night so I wondered how long he had been wandering the streets in his socks. I offered him the drink and burrito. He acted as if nothing had happened. He was fine. I offered him a ride to a therapist appointment that I knew he had scheduled and he accepted. The appointment went great. Kenny agreed to take 3 different prescriptions and to visit the therapist again in 10 days. The therapist had given Kenny lots of resources and was even going to call a friend who he knew was hiring people for outside work. It would be perfect for Kenny. We were headed to the pharmacy when I asked Kenny if I was willing to pay for housing until he could get into low income housing and get a job would he be willing to move without the girl. (We later found out that the girl was a local who has paranoid schizophrenia. She comes from a wealthy family that allows her to live in their basement as long as she is not using. She also has a boyfriend.) Kenny told me yes. I thought great, it will be worth it money wise to get him away from this girl. Then Kenny looked at me with Satan coming through his eyes and said, "Yes, she will come with me." Not another word was spoken.

We got to the pharmacy only to have him wander off with the discount card. I went to look for him. He was not in the store or in the parking lot that I could see. I got in my car and drove down the road with no sign of him so I turned around and went back. I saw him bumming a cigarette off someone. He wandered up to the car and said, "Give me my medicines". I was furious. I told him I didn't have the medicines that he had the discount card. He reached inside the car grabbed all the papers from the therapist and walked away. I screamed at him that he would never see his daughter again if he didn't get help. I'm sure that didn't help but I was so angry, frustrated, hurt and sad. I cry so many tears for him. I went home. It was Wednesday.

Everyday, several times a day, I'd check recent inmate bookings for his area. I had checked Friday a few times and then I got a message from someone down there asking if I knew Kenny was in jail. His picture had showed up in bookings about an hour after I had checked. He is a thief, but it is only a misdemeanor. A misdemeanor is good for him but bad for me; they won't keep him very long. I called the jail, asked all the questions and let them know he has mental illness. They were wondering about that already. They said I could bring in his prescribed meds and their medical staff would give him what they could. Another trip down on Saturday. We bought the damn meds without a discount card. We cleaned out his room as he was given an eviction notice. We went to jail. Out of the three meds they could give him one. 

He had video court this past Monday. I called prosecutors and gave them Kenny's history. I asked how long he would stay in jail. He said not very long because all his charges were misdemeanors. I want him to stay in jail for at least a month, so he can be on his meds and go through withdrawals. He's safe, he has a place to sleep and 3 meals a day. At court Kenny told them he would get his own lawyer. Really? We won't be paying for that again. But, what it did was postpone the court process, giving us more time. The process will be delayed again when he tells them he has no lawyer and they have to assign one. Prosecutors think he will be eligible for mental health court, which he has been in before. Mental Health court will have him check in weekly, make sure that he is clean, working, and has a place to stay. 

So now we wait. 

But, the good thing from all of this is that I got so angry and frustrated with his girlfriend and her mother for kicking him out of his own trailer and put him on a one way shuttle, to this place he couldn't survive in, that I called and left a scathing message on the phone threatening that I was going to get a civil suit against them and that we had better start seeing Aqua at least once a week. 

 We took Aqua to the park on Sunday. 

Friday, April 1, 2016


This is not my son. At least not today. I have looked a few times in the past, wondering if the boy at the stop sign,  holding the "please help" cardboard was my son.

Today I know where my son is. He is trying once again to get clean and sober, to start anew one more time. He left our city and moved about 5 hours away. Away from the demons that make his life a mom's worse nightmare.

His baby girl is still here. She is sometimes with the other grandma and sometimes with "mom". Mom is addicted to meth now. She asked my son to leave. I should thank her for that. Except for the fact that she's smoking meth around my granddaughter, she is living in the trailer my son owns, she is smoking meth in the trailer my son owns. We will never be able to sell it. She destroyed it and we will probably have to pay money to demolish the damn thing. It was a very nice trailer worth about $40,000.  The other grandma is in such denial. 

They won't let us care for the baby or see her. We haven't seen her since November 9th. I've called police. I've called DSPD. I've called attorneys. Without solid proof I am nothing but a meddling grandmother. But soon... I pray, very soon, my son will be stable. He will have control of his life and will be able to care for our beautiful baby girl the way she deserves to be cared for. 

As for the stop sign boy in the picture. I ignore him. I don't look at him. I certainly don't give him money. I don't think my few measley dollars will change his life; in fact it might make it worse. What if my $1.00 contributed to a heroin overdose? Am I terrible? Maybe. But after 10 years of addiction and mental illness I know that if this boy wants help, really truly wants help there are places to go for help.