I Called the Police on My Daughter.

It finally happened.

Having attended the NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) classes for family members of those with mental illness I have heard many stories of parents having to call the police on their children, some teens, some adults. I have never done that and wondered if I would ever have to do so. I hoped not.

It was a Sunday, one where some of my children come home from visiting their father, my ex-husband. Usually when they come home there is a bunch of adjusting and Sunday evenings are usually wrought with unpleasantness due to that--mostly by one or two specific children, while the other two generally acclimate quickly and slide into our regular routine without much of and issue.

My 14 year old daughter starts early on Sunday by asking if she can go to the mall thru text when they return. Well, due to my faith I have never allowed my children to shop on Sunday; Sunday is the sabbath and in observance of this we don't cause others to have to break it (even though they're already working because if there wasn't a high demand for service on the Sabbath they wouldn't need to be working on Sunday to stay employed). Agree or disagree, that's just what we do, it's how we've been living life for ALL of her life, so this is simple boundary checking and challenging.

So it starts like this:
Her: Mom.
Me: Yes?
Her: Can I go to the mall with [friend]?
Me: Maybe tomorrow.

She wasn't satisfied:
Her: Well then can we go to the movies?
Me: Maybe later this week.
Her: Oh my what the hell ever.

I now know that things were probably going to be just "awesome" when she returns. When I say "awesome" I mean UNPLEASANT!

Not to disappoint my expectations, when we met and the girls got into my van she was full of demands and new requests for time with a friend.

Not only do we refrain from patronage on Sunday but we also do not go to friends' houses--it's family time, however; if my children would like to have a friend over to participate in what we're doing we're good with that.

I remind her [friend] can come over if she'd like but she isn't going over to [friend]'s house.

She then barks to call my mom and tell her to get all her crafty paper and tools because she has a project to do. I am not a fan of doing school work on the sabbath as it's work that could be done any other day of the week, but I offer she can call grandma to ASK her if she'd be willing to get her things to share. My daughter calls and basically just demands grandma go home to get all of her craft supplies for the project. My mom tells her when we get back she'll get into my van and we can go look at what she has. (My mom comes over every Sunday for supper--it's our thing.)

We return, we go to my mom's home, daughter gets what she thinks she needs plus my mom's little cutting machine (I don't know what it's called but if you're a big time scrapbooker, it's one of those cutting machines you hook up to your computer and it'll cut out every shape known to man), we bring it to my home, start setting up the cutting gizmo when the best husband ever tells us supper is ready to eat.

Pause on the project, on with the supping.

During this time daughter begins to announce she WILL be going to warp tour (is a concert event every year) because "dad's paying" and she looks me dead in the eye holding her gaze waiting for a response. She's telling me I don't have a choice--well, trying. I don't care, let him waist his money--if she doesn't earn the privilege, she won't be going regardless of any money spent by any human on this planet! But she holds her gaze--her stare.

My son responds. He's older and warp tour is his kind of thing. He mentions that HE wants to go and asks why dad is paying for her. A good question in my book. Daughter then responds in a softer tone that dad said I have to say it's ok first. aha! And suggests maybe dad will pay for him, too.

Grandma and I move ourselves to the living room where all the project supplies are waiting to be used. I'm talking to my mom when daughter and her younger sisters come in asking if they can go to [friend]'s house.

SERIOUSLY? Didn't we just go over this? And at what point did the rules change?

I tell her she cannot go over the [friend]'s house today but that [friend] can come over here.

Her: Why? That's stupid!
Me: Well, that may be but that's the way it is.
Her: [Friend's mom] called and said she needs me to come over.
Me: Why?
Her: She wants to talk to me.
Me: That's too bad. If she wants to talk to you she can come here. (Sorry but no other mother at another house is going to override the rules and standards regarding my children.)
Her: That's stupid!
Me: Well, that's ok. You need to do you project anyway.
Her: I don't want to.
Pause
Her: I'M GOING TO [FRIEND]'S!!! You can't stop me.
Me: You better not.
Her: Why? What are you going to do?
Grandma: Why don't you come over here, Honey. Let's get your project done.
Her: No! I'm not doing it!
Grandma: Come on, let's get it done.
Her: I'm not doing it. I don't want to.
Grandma: I brought all this over for you.
Her: I don't care.
Her: Looking at me and standing by the front door: I'm leaving, I don't care what you say.
Me: You better not leave.
Her: Why? What are you going to do?
Me: I guess you'll find out.
Her: I'm leaving. Go ahead and call the police. Tell them I'm a runaway. I. Don't. Care. What's gonna happen?!
She looks me dead in the face, stone cold, straight in the eye and declares: N O T H I N G!

She then spins on her heels and darts out the door slamming it closed.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

I call her friend's house to tell them she does NOT have permission to leave this house or to be at there's. I call her counselor to leave a message about this fun interaction. I text her father to let him know she just challenged me to call the police and took off.

I call the police......................

Can you believe it?

I dial the number and tell the dispatcher that I have a daughter is 14, bipolar, who just ran off, and I need a police officer to respond who has been trained to deal with mental illness. (This is super important if you have a family member !!!) I let them know she has ran away before so I cannot be sure she went to [friend]'s house and I'm concerned.

A little while later [friend's mom] calls to tell me they are bringing her home. We talk the duration of their walk (they live two blocks away--so not far at all) with me explaining what happened here and her telling me the things they've told her and how they feel about it. (These are people who've been in our lives for 8 years and our daughters have been best friends for that entire time--we feel almost like family)

As we're talking in front of my house a police officer pulls up. Daughter sees this and gets nervous, [friend]'s mom tells her, "Oh, yes, she DID and would have, too!". Daughter turns, runs into the house, finds her way to her room and locks the door.

The responding officer and I speak for a few minutes. He was kind and respectful to me. We're feeling that simply talking to the officer will probably make enough of a point that she should not threaten me to call the police because I will call her bluff.

No so, my friends, no so. One would think a 14 year old girl would snap into compliance when a tall, solid, booming voiced police officer came to address her.

NOPE.

He tried talking to her through the door she had locked without success. All he wanted to do is talk to her. He spent a good amount of time trying to talk her out of her room. We then just unlocked and opened her bedroom door. He tried to talk to her face to face but she would not comply in the least degree. He offered that everything could be resolved "here" (in our home) but she would not respond, she was simply on attack and defend mode (verbally). She was telling him what he could do, what she wasn't going to do, being very non compliant and belligerent. He was patient, he kept his voice calm, he was assertive but not aggressive or intimidating (as in he wasn't trying to intimidate her by making threats or calling out his authority). He finally told me he thinks she should go to [Youth Center], so I agreed.

When she heard me say OK, she FREAKED. Of course. She was red faced, teary eyed, angry, incredulous.

In order to be transported in the back of the police car one must have cuffs, that's the rule. She. did NOT. want cuffs. She resisted, and resisted, and resisted...

As he walked her through the house and out the front door she spews at me: I f'ing HATE you!   I hope you ROT in Hell!

All the while my house is filled with 5 of our children, my Mom, my Step-father, and my son's girlfriend. My mom wants to comfort me and hug me while my daughter is being cuffed but I couldn't have her protect me this way, I needed to stand tall and sure when my daughter passed by me. She needed to see me on sturdy ground, not withered up into a bucket of tears on my mommy's shoulders. That was for after.

She was in [Youth Center] for two nights and days during which time I've talked with her counselor, who happens to work at [Youth Center], for long amounts of time.

When she was received by [Youth Center] during the intake she was asked why she was there. Her answer? "My mom called my bluff. I didn't think she'd do anything."

The responding officer, the counselor, and her psychiatrist told me I did the right thing. She cannot think she can just take off and do what she wants, she cannot think she can threaten someone to call the police and not have an interaction with them, and she cannot think it's ok to behave in such a defiant and abusive manner.

It was awful. I never, ever want to have this kind of experience again.

Can you relate?