Despite Encouragement From Me, No Words Were Ever Spoken

Am I a clown?
Do I amuse you?

 

 

This morning started with several texts from Jenny, a sampling of which I present here:

I called her after I received the first text just after 5 a.m.. I asked her to wait to leave. I didn't take her threat too seriously, she had run away the week before and came back. But I didn't laugh her off, and became increasingly worried as the texts continued. I called her again after 6, and after receiving a text listing a few more bills I would need to watch after she was gone. I asked her if she had a plan to hurt herself.  She said yes. I asked her to wait for me to get there before she left. She agreed. Remember, I was only 10 blocks away on top of a steep hill. Outside, I discovered my Jeep lock was frozen shut. I would have to walk--or run actually to get to the house. I had to go change into warmer clothes. I called her, told her my dilemma, and then asked her yet again to wait.  I called and texted both her sisters.  No response. I hurried, on foot, to get to Jenny before she did something rash. 

 When I arrived she was in her bed. I grabbed her car keys and hid them. I found her drafting a suicide note, well two actually, one for each kid she told me.  I sat next to her on the edge of the bed, tried to soothe her, and waited desperately  for a sister to return my call. She just kept writing, never looking up. Both of our girls were still asleep, thankfully. I said nothing about hiding the keys.  She was inconsolable. She said she was tired of being alone, tired of being sick all the time, tired of being in pain.  She said she believed she was nothing but a burden and that the kids didn't need her.  I tried to explain that none of this was true.  As we were talking, Moni called and I got up and went into the kitchen to talk to her.

As I was finishing telling Moni what was going on, and begging her to come over, Leiney emerged at the top of the basement stairs.  She was surprised to see me, and asked what I was doing there so early.  I told her that her mom wasn't feeling well, and before I could say anything else, she went to Jenny's bedroom to see her. I finished talking to Moni, who was heading straight over, and I went back to Jenny. Leiney had pieced it all together, having seen the suicide notes.

When i reentered, Leiney was snuggled up against her mom. Jenny was clearly decompensating. She was saying to Leiney that she wasn't needed, alternating between sobbing and talking, then leaned forward and returned to work on her suicide note as Leiney looked on, as if her daughter wasn't right there.  By this time, I was back next to Jenny, standing at the side of the bed and rubbing her back. Leiney was tough as nails.

Moni soon came in--she lives close.  She began talking to Jenny, who was now sobbing more and talking of killing herself.  I asked Leiney to go to the coffee stand for us. She got up and I assumed her place on the bed. Moni went and grabbed a kitchen chair, quickly returning.  Jenny's phone rings. Its Judy, our sister-in-law and a former experienced hostage negotiator.  She is on the phone with Jenny talking her down for what felt like 40 minutes, but was probably much less.  She got Jenny calmed down, and got her to take a lorazepam.  Leiney was amazing.  Having returned with coffee for us, thank God, at this point she begins talking to Jenny about depression, using her DBT skills to school Jenny on how her thinking wasn't clear because of the depression. Jenny seemed to listen to her. Leiney repaired to her room and came back with her DBT workbook, and encouarged Jenny to use it. Leiney the grown up is even more inspiring than Leiney the child.

Afterward, Moni took all the drugs I had rounded up, and left.  I, emotionally exhausted, went to work after hiding all the sharp objects I could find.  

I abandoned any hope of leaving, of living apart.

Entry 2:

Mindfuckery: Jenny just said this to Leiney at 9:10 p.m. "That's not a question at this point in my life.  I've got to be alive."