Done spell checking.

I think, this evening, Sophie may have begun her trip to betterland. I think she may have begun to grow up.
It was a horrible thing.
She has been in a sad place and it has been a difficult thing to see ( and I suspect a terrible place to be) Withdrawing from Cocaine and who knows what else, she has been lower than I have ever seen her. I have seen her high and I have seen her mad but rarely do we see Sophie sad...really sad and admitting to it. She has been working in a pub, not a nice pub, or a family pub, this is one that the rough lot go to. Mention this pub and people roll their eyes, unless they like that kind of place. This place caters to people who might feel out of place somewhere genteel or um, nice.
Anyway, she loved it there.....until recently ( when she stopped using drugs) last week when she was in the midst of a wailing moment she said how she doesn't even like her job anymore and she used to love her job and now she isn't happy there and she hates that job and nothing makes her happy anymore and ......so she didn't like it there anymore.
When she got to work this evening, they fired her. They told her that they loved her but they simply can't have her working there, until she 'gets her head sorted out'.
She had been for dinner, Jordan and Mel were here, Seth had his school play again tonight, is I dropped them at the school, popped over to mums and was enjoying a chat when I jumped up and said " Gotta go...gotta go" and left...drove home and walked in on a little bit of hell. She was on top form and because I wasn't here, Jordan was getting it. Bless his heart he has no clue what he is supposed to do and also, there is no right thing to do because when Sophie is crazy, she can't hear what you're saying and she can't understand what you mean, she just yells, and yells and screams and she swears. Really swears.
I tried to calm her and I tried to speak to her but she was too far into this ranting fest.
Nothing we said made sense, nothing is good enough, nobody loves her, nobody ever gives a shit, what the hell, forget it she should just kill herself because she can't stand this in her head anymore, she will never feel better, nothing will ever be right. She has no home, no money, no phone, no job...what will she do without a job ( that paid her £20 a night, twice a week, really good job that one)
She is so low that she can't see things can get better, she is so lacking in confidence that she will never get a job, never have a home..there is no point, her head hurts, she wants out.
Whenever I have been in a situation that baffles me, when I simply do not know what I am supposed to do, somehow I do what is the right thing....but it rarely seems like the right thing at the time.
She was yelling and swearing and every time I tried to tell her what we would do....she swore at me and shot the suggestion down before I had even had a chance to finish suggesting it. What she wants is for me to say
"Here, Sophie. Take this and it will all be better. She thinks if I hand her money and do everything for her, it would be alright then."
I told her ( or tried to tell her) that tomorrow we would go and .....
"Just shut the hell up, you don't care, you just want me the f*** out of here and then you'd be happy.....don't even try to pretend that you....."
That's when the fairies took over and for the first time I either didn't think, didn't have it in me to hear anymore or...well who knows, I opened my mouth and said " Then fuck off out of here, just get out"
Oh my life.
I whine about Sophie and I complain and get frustrated but my every waking moment is spent worrying whether I have said or done, or not said or done something that will tip her over the edge, she makes me crazy but she is unstable and it's hard to tell when she might crack.
This evening I just snapped and gave her a taste of her own medicine.
She left and I felt sure that she would go and get some drugs from somewhere....I called the after hours Dr and asked what I should do if she came back. They said to take her to the ER and hand her to the on call psyche, get her admitted. As I was talking to him, she walked in and said " I've calmed down, what did you want to tell me?" That is a first. She is learning.
I think she needed to see that there has to be a limit, who knows. The unimaginable worked, I called her bluff without thinking and it was just what she needed.
We went to the hospital because she wants help. She didn't get it.....from them, but I think she and I made enormous progress. I had to keep her 'entertained' at the hospital because she got bored ( Fucking bored if you must know because Sophie never gets just bored and when she gets fucking bored she does it loudly, thankyouverymuch)
She started to talk about the boys and cute kids and I said that I didn't think it was possible to get more beautiful than Isaac.
"So he's your favourite"
"no, I don't have a favourite, but as far as looks go, Isaac's face is perfect, I don't like his face more than anybody else's but physically there isn't a thing that could be improved."
"You do so have a favourite"
"No, I don't. I have 6 children and I love them all the same amount in different ways. I have children who are easier to get along with, Isaac is easy for me, Jordan has always been easy for me. H has no difficulties at all getting along with Seth and everybody adores Eli because, lets face it, what's not to adore, he is just the easiest going little flossie in the world."
She listened to that and actually heard what I said...she has long accused me of loving the boys more than her, she has never given me a chance to explain why she would think that.
She heard me say a lot of things while we waited at the hospital and when the most patronising and sloppy doctor came to talk to her and eventually said " well, I don't think there is a thing wrong with you, get a job, find a nice boyfriend and you'll be fine, I can try and find a psychiatrist for you but he won't be able to do anything because you're not sick"
Well then he didn't try to call a psychiatrist and after an hour I found him and told him that I thought it best of I took her home and called the mental health team tomorrow.
I am going to do several things tomorrow but first I have to go to sleep.
I may, or may not write details of this horrendous evening tomorrow.
I had my first real dislike of the health service this evening and that stung.
I am weary beyond words and dread all that is to follow after this experience.
If I were to look at the bright side ( and I am so bloody sick of looking at the bright side, life stinks sometimes and this is one of those times, let me wallow) I would say that I think Sophie may have hit her low, and by the time I dropped her at the place she is staying, she had a glimmer of an idea that she will be fine. That things can and will get better, even if it's slowly.
I don't think any mother should ever be in a situation where she is waiting to hand her child over to the straight jacket brigade. I wonder if I will ever look back on this and laugh. I did manage a smirk or two in that awful place but I think that may have been hysteria rather than humour.
My eyes are blurring over and my brain is a furry furball of hopeless fur. Must be time for bed. Glad I have spell check, all done, am going to bed.