When your child is ready to come home from the hospital there are a whole series of events that happen. Some are scary, some are joyous, all are overwhelming.
You buy a safe to put all the sharps and pills in so she can’t hurt herself.
You clean her bedroom, put fresh sheets on, spruce it up a bit.
You sleep all day because you know when she’s home you will be too filled with worry to sleep then.
You make appointments with the psychologist and the psychiatrist, as many as possible.
You buy her a bearded dragon because you think she will be better if she has something to care for.
You become obsessed with this lizard because you think he’s her savior who will give her reason to fight.
You enlist your other child and your husband into making a schedule so that someone will always be home.
You think about getting her into yoga, sign her up for guitar lessons, and plan activities for everyday.
You buy all the card games in the world to help her distract herself from wanting to self harm.
You call every therapist in the phone book who specializes in DBT and suicidal teens and don’t give up even when you hear the words, not taking new patients.
You hold your breath, cry your tears, and scream your screams before she gets home so you can be strong for her.
You thank god and friends and family for helping your family through this and you ask them to just hang in with us a little while longer.
Cause we’ve gotta ride the wave that will be full of crests and falls and highs and lows and this too shall pass. We just don’t know when.