Brooke.
Another day, another drama.
This time she calls the police on herself. This time she insists she isn't safe and is going to hurt herself or me and this momma has no intention of getting hurt, but she is getting very close to it.
The poor police are not even sure what to do with my brat, but process, procedures, and all in agreement she is getting a ride in his car to Children's hospital.
Five. This is the fifth time we've done this in less than one year.
We arrive in Emergency for her check-in process when the cavalry arrives. It was the most vivid moment that stands out in my mind yesterday. David briskly walks into ER, shakes the officers hand and says, "Thank you for your help until I got here." It was pure dad-mode and in chaos my logic and strength had arrived. The only thing he was missing was the white horse.
Yesterdays experience was different than all the other experiences. I was always at my wits end, often crying, panicked, and beside Brooke's side as her always #1 advocate.
It was the psychologist that told me during the intake process Brooke asked if I was supposed to be in the room with her and she told Brooke, "No, only if she wants to be."
We never went in her room and left without saying goodbye. She will be gone for a week and I am going to allow her exactly what she has been asking for, to get away from me. This time I won't accept daily phone calls. This time I won't be visiting her.
Brooke's stunt this week will cost no less than $13K dollars. It is a game she has fine-tuned with an unexpected change ... no mom.
