Just When You Think It's Safe....Part 6

I look back on my college life...and honestly, there isn't a whole lot I remember. I remember how young Brittany was when I started and all that happened to me, I cannot even believe I lived through it. But I did.

To say that life was stressful then is a horrible understatement. The Ritalin helped many things. It helped me be able to talk to her...but it didn't solve everything. Many people believe, that is, people such as my family, that you give someone a pill and TA DA, it will solve every problem under the sun and if it doesn't....then it doesn't work worth a damn. When Brittany was around 5 years old, I took her to a therapist. Things began to bother me...from her laughing inappropriately, injecting conversations that didn't fit what anyone was talking about...now, with a 5 year old, it's cute....but when they are 30, it's not so cute. These were things I wondered if anyone else noticed about her. Brittany would lie right to my face and truly believed what she was saying was true. I could see her doing something, and she could see that I saw her do it and yet...she was loyal to her lie to the very end. After the therapist saw Brittany without me in the room, she called me back into the office. She had Brittany wait for a minute outside. She told me, "She is good. Brittany is one of the best manipulaters I have ever seen. She had me manipulated and I am a trained professional for God's sake!" I've never forgotten that.

The Ritalin worked pretty well until around the age of 7....then, the effect was gone. We had moved, I believe, so another Doctor put her on Dexadrine, which is basically the same as Ritalin, though has a diet suppressant in it(it's what's in Dexatrim)...so she didn't really gain weight. Things slowly were heading out of control the older she got. Since she was diagnosed, I tried many different things to discipline her...to no avail. Oh many people assumed so many things about me...family and professionals, that I was failing in disciplining her. I tried time outs, I tried making charts and graphs, giving her stars....tried taking things away. She'd gotten down to just her bed in a room and she just didn't care. Nothing worked.

We moved to Wyoming in 1998, Brittany was 9. My girlfriend at the time, really stayed out of things between Brittany and I. Brittany knew how and where to push my buttons. Sometimes, I could be so calm, like I should be but I dare the calmest person to be in a room alone with Brittany at that time and they would go crazy. Brittany and I were very close....it was undeniable....she'd been through a hard time, me...not being able to pick a good sane woman for some time...but at the same time, I lived with this stress every day and it only became worse.

I left my then gf and moved Brittany and I into an apartment in 1999. Brittany spent some of worst times here. It was then that I saw the mood swings. She destroyed my apartment, slammed her door so hard, that it came through the other side. She would yell at me the minute I came home. She would destroy everything in her path, call me horrible names I'd never heard come out of her mouth before and then 5 minutes later, say sweetly, "I love you, mommy," and cuddle up to me. I was not sure how to deal with this. When she was 11, I left for a few minutes for work...then the Police called me, saying I'd better get my butt home. Brittany had taken everything out of my cupboards, food everywhere....trashed the place, then called the cops to say I was neglecting her. The cops said, "You know I could throw your ass in jail right now?" I told them, "Yes, and it would be a vacation, believe me." I could not keep a babysitter, no matter how much I paid them. Brittany threw the phone through the window. Of course, the cops never came back to check to see if I was neglecting her. Really worried, weren't they?
I finally took Brittany to a psychiatrist once her SSI was approved and I had some insurance for her. He diagnosed her with Bipolar disorder. I could see it. He put her on some medications...Depakote and Seroquel. I didn't really notice much of a difference. Then I found her pills on the floor...she wasn't taking them all the time, and she was truly out of control. I called the Psychiatrist and he instructed me to take her to the psych ward in Lander, Wyoming, 3 hours away. She was there for 6 days when they called to say she was all regulated on her meds, there had been no problems, she was ready to go home. The minute I got there, she screamed and ran up and down the hallway in hysterics. They could not believe this. Immediately, one of the social workers began to tell me this was a discipline issue, that I had not tried this or that program. I began to walk out. She stopped me to ask what the problem was.
I told her that I was not going to listen to one more person blame me for Brittany's problems.
They made Brittany stay 3 more days as a punishment. I came back and she was better. For the moment. The next morning, I took her to breakfast. When I wasn't finished, she stood up and began screaming. I got up to pay the cashier and she touches my hand saying, "It's okay, honey, I have one at home just like her."
I smiled politely and said, "Trust me, you don't."

Next: 7