Thursday morning Courtney had an appointment with her psychiatrist. I picked her up and it was quite obvious she was on something. It looked like she had slept in her clothes (if she had slept) and her eye makeup was smeared halfway across her face. When we got to the office she was staggering in the parking lot and wanted to smoke a cig since we were there early. She was in a VERY BAD MOOD. I went in ahead of her to make a payment and told the receptionist to warn Dr. R. Not that he would really need warning, I mean, really all he had to do was just look at her. I felt a sense of relief when she went in to talk with him but it was short lived. An empty pill bottle had fallen from her purse onto the couch and when I informed her that she had dropped her bottle she looked at it and said "that's not mine, way to go mom it's for painkillers." After she went in I retrieved the bottle out of the trash and looked at the name. I felt numb when I saw Dopey's name and saw that it was for 15 lortabs and dated just a few days before.
Had she taken all of those? Surely Dopey would not be that generous.
The ride home from her appointment was not pleasant. I did not mention the pills, I didn't dare.
She heaped verbal abuse upon me for the loss of her car and stated she might as well be dead.
At her apartment complex we could not open the gate because she forgot her remote control so I drove her over to the side walk through gate. She tried unsuccessfully to open it but could not remember the code so she got back in the car, screaming at me to get her to the gate. I turned the car around and drove back to the gate and just before I could stop my car she opens the door and tumbles out. I slammed on the brakes and jumped out, reaching for my cell phone, certain that I would need to call an ambulance. To my relief she got up (cussing) and finally another woman helped her get in the side gate while giving me a concerned and puzzled look.
That afternoon the doorbell rang and for some reason I was not all that shocked to see a policeman at the door. As I opened the door he held out Courtney's wallet with her student I.D. showing and asked me if I knew this girl. I told him that was my daughter and he proceeded to tell me how the wallet was found on the ground at the apartment complex next to Courtney's. The police had been called because some of the residents (all are over 60) were frightened by the appearance of a shirtless man wandering aimlessly about the property who clearly was not a resident. After the police had taken him away to another apartment miles away a resident gave the police her wallet and it was then that they connected it with the shirtless man and thought he was probably the one who stole it. Do you know his name I inquired, was it Dopey?? The policeman called the officer who had driven the man away and yes, indeed it was Dopey. I informed the officer that there was a protective order filed by my daughter against Dopey but unfortunately she is suffering from what therapists call "hostage syndrome" formerly known as Stockholm Syndrome. I filled him in a little with what we thought had been going on and he gave me the phone number for COPES (Community Outreach Psychiatric Emergency Services). See www.fcsok.org/?p+copes for more information.
COPES can be called for severe emotional distress, threats of suicide and psychotic episodes 24 hours a day, seven days a week. If Courtney was acting in a manner that lead me to believe she would harm herself or others then COPES would send a team out to talk with her and they would determine if she met the criteria to be taken to a hospital. If she did they would arrange for transport to a facility. It was a good thing he gave me the number because I would use it a lot sooner than I thought, like about an hour later.
A phone call from Courtney's apartment manager telling me about noise complaints from her apartment - the fighting was getting LOUD. The maintenance man had seen Dopey staggering about outside with a syringe in his hand (this is the truth). I decided that was it, someone else would have to handle this for me. I called COPES and explained everything and the young woman who I talked to explained to me that a COPES team would go out and interview her and determine if she needed to be hospitalized or not. I was to meet them at the office of the apartments and fill out and sign a form as to exactly what happened that has led me to believe that she would harm herself.
The apartment manager, a young woman, was great about it all. I told her about Dopey and she said his grandmother had brought him back and he had come back to the office and looked a little better but was confused about where Courtney's apartment was and he could not remember the correct apartment number either. The police officer who had returned Courtney's wallet had heard the call and decided to respond also. I filled out the forms and stayed out of sight and waited. I was dismayed to see the COPES team return 15 minutes later without Courtney. They had talked to her and she had straightened up enough and answered all the questions correctly so that she did not meet the criteria to haul her away. I shouldn't have been surprised. Courtney is not only smart and genetically clever but being a social work major so she knew EXACTLY what was going on and what she needed to do and say. Dopey was not there. Only God knows where he was wandering about.
True to their word, the COPES team went back later in the evening to check on Courtney at her apartment. Dopey opened the door and since they knew there was a Protective Order out on him they called the police. An officer called us and in order to arrest Dopey he would need a copy of the protective order, which I gleefully grabbed and ran with it to the car. We were there in three minutes and within three more minutes the officer had the Order in his hand. While we waited in the car behind the ambulance and fire truck, the COPES team came down to talk with us. I was taken aback when I saw two young twenty-something women in jeans; they looked like kids at the mall. But when you think about it, their appearance is not at all threatening but friendly and reassuring which would be met with a positive response from anyone they were trying to help. Once again, Courtney did not meet the criteria to be taken away but she did agree to spend the night with us. They were worried because Courtney was rather "loopy" and they thought she should be watched that night. She also had a few cuts, we were told, the worst being on her thumb. A few moments later, Dopey came down the stairs in handcuffs and I must admit to a warm feeling of satisfaction upon seeing him walk past us between two police officers.
As she came down the stairs and toward our car we heard Courtney exclaim "why don't you drug test them too, they are both psychotic . . . " We just couldn't wait to get home. But, fortunately when we arrived home she went straight up the stairs and fell in bed and passed out until after 1:00 p.m. the next day. We would have had a good nights sleep ourselves if it hadn't been for the fact that someone called us at 4:30 a.m. claiming to be from "social services" and wanted to talk to Courtney about her appointment that day. I asked the woman why would she be calling at such an ungodly hour of the morning and she replied that "there was a note left on my desk to call and remind her." Well, I wasn't going to fall for that crap and just told her that Courtney was sick and would not be there. My impression was that it had been Dopey's mother who had called because she sounded middle aged and she is the type of person who would do something like that.
Friday afternoon she awoke a bit clearer but the first thing she wanted to know was "what am I doing here." I asked her what she remembered and it wasn't much so I got her out of there as soon as I could before she erupted again. In the garage she jerked open the car door hard enough that it hit her father's car beside it and made a nice dent. I didn't say a word. I just wanted to get her back to the apartment so I engaged the child lock so she couldn't try to make an unexpected exit and got there as quick as I could. She was quite on the way back and I was relieved to get her out of my car without any problems. Now I could go home and relax.
I got to relax for an hour before Courtney called and wanted to go to lunch to "talk." I really just wanted to drive her through McDonalds but she requested that we "go in somewhere so we could talk." Reluctantly I took her to Panera Bread which was just a mile away. I didn't say much of anything and she was dressed better and looked like she had washed her face. She was polite. After ordering our food and sitting down she finally said "Dopey and I love each other too much to stay away." I though I would throw up so I didn't say much of anything to her except something about betraying her father. I just wanted to hurry up with lunch and get her back to her apartment. I reminded her that she had an appointment with her therapist in the morning and told her I would give her a call to make sure she was awake.
Telling my husband the results of my "talk" with Courtney was not easy, he was so disappointed but not surprised. We decided she would have to abide by strict rules if she wanted to keep her job and we spent time in deciding what those would be. She would not have the car - I thought she should never get it back, Ron thought six months at first but finally agreed with me. Ron really wanted to find a way to keep her at work with him - weekly drug tests were to be one requirement but she would still have to drive to the courthouse for work and that could be a problem. We finally decided that we would attend an AL-ANON meeting at 8:30 the next morning. Ron has a cousin and her husband who attend that particular meeting every week and it had really helped them, so we decided it was time to go and then we would see Courtney's therapist afterward.
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