The original home was overflowing and due to *Ella’s unstable emotional state, I broke the cardinal rule (again) and allowed her and her two endearing children to live in my home. My mentor and best friend (who just happens to be a Licenced Professional Counselor) strongly recommended that I try not to become emotionally involved. This just wasn’t possible with Ella and her children.
She was immediately given respite, away from the children – as well as the general responsibilities of life. As I took care of them for the week, I fell completely head over heels for her beautiful children, a 6-year-old with autism and a very energetic 2-year-old girl – who could probably charm a homeless man out of his last dime. So…. emotional involved – yes. I just don’t know how any person could help some of these amazing women and children without caring passionately about what happens to them.
Ella was unique in her situation – but still fit the requirements as an abuse survivor. Her husband was in another state but prior to her arrival she had shared that she was unsure if she wanted to continue the marriage – in fact, she was unsure that she wanted to continue living at all. We had hoped that by removing her from her current homeless situation and by entering a new environment of support and encouragement, that we could allow her the space to figure out what she wanted to do… living being the most important.
Unfortunately – at the time there was simply too much drama going on at the rehabilitation home and after a plea from her mother and husband, who feared she would follow through on her threats, came to live with our family. Even after respite, Ella remained very withdrawn and continued cutting herself to relieve the pain. I personally made sure that she was directed to the right resources, drove her to the appointments, reviewed her medication with her – and stayed in constant touch with mental health professionals on how to deal with her issues. We talked about what would make her happy, her children, her husband, what she wanted in life and even poked around the cutting issue and her abuse as a child. What was most boggling is that she didn’t have any particular reason for wanting to end her life, at least none she shared with me.
My husband was extremely supportive and encouraged her to join our bible studies and to talk about whatever she felt like talking about. Sometimes she would open up – other times she would shut down completely. I was greatly concerned about the number of medications she was on. I knew each one had its purpose – but I also knew from my own experience that becoming a zombie would not promote the functional thinking processes that she needed to adopt, instead they provided her an opportunity to escape from the problems all together. I couldn’t help but wonder if she would use the pills at some point to escape completely.
Her husband came to visit and while he was here – she truly seemed happy. Her family was together, the environment was not pushy or hostile, and nobody was telling her what to do. I really hoped that this was what she needed in order to start moving toward recovery. As the story goes… all good things must come to an end, and as the time approached she made a huge decision. Her baby girl would go home with her dad. Ella was separating her family even more and letting go of another huge part of herself.
I do not hold a degree in psychology so I have always refrained from any kind of ‘therapeutic’ pushing or prodding (although I did push her a bit to spend more time with the trained professionals). Again, by experience – I have learned that a little information is a dangerous thing. Even if the facts are correct – when therapy is delivered in the wrong way, or while the person is in the wrong state of mind – it can be much more damaging than what the person has already experienced.
I knew that she had to take control of her own life – and as much as I disliked this particular option, I knew the call wasn’t up to me and at least she was finally making a decision - a huge step for Ella. Most of the women that use Sparrow House and its resources – have had enough control in their lives. My job is not to control but to help guide and pray they make the right decisions. Everything I have done up to this point is based on faith and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. I leave the medication to the doctors and the therapy to the counselors – all I truly have to offer is my love and encouragement as they struggle to face life and its difficult choices.
Needless to say – I cried more than Ella as her daughter was buckled into the car-seat and drove away for the long trip home to Florida. Yep – totally and completely emotionally involved! Ella was okay for a while, she acted much stronger than I was feeling and I felt somehow we had made a breakthrough. She knew now that she didn’t want a divorce, she wanted to work through things with her husband and be a family again.
Then, without warning she had a complete mental breakdown. I tried to talk to her, my husband called family prayer and I even asked the prayer chain at church to intercede on her behalf. She was determined that she needed to be admitted to a mental hospital or she would commit suicide, and with no insurance – there was no option besides the state facility. I’m not sure if all states have this issue but here in Texas, the state mental health agencies do not have a very good reputation. I have heard horror stories of abuse and neglect over and over for at least 20 years. This was one decision I was strongly opposed to – and after asking advice from the LPC, I took on a very tough love approach.
I am a very non-confrontational person – so I’m not sure if my behaviour scared me, Ella, or my husband worse. He said that he had never seen me so angry – but the truth is, it wasn’t anger but love. She had to understand the consequences of going into a state hospital and convincing them she was crazy. I knew she loved her children – it was obvious, and to commit herself to the state’s care – left her children in complete limbo. It was one thing to send a child away to stay with family during her recovery – but the state would have become her advocate, as well as the children’s, and I feared that she would lose the last threads she had left that were worth living for. I knew that I could not handle her son alone – and yet he would be in my care, or if the state allowed it – sent back to Florida to a father that was facing criminal charges or even worse, into the foster care system. In my eyes – none of these options were acceptable.
To this day, I don’t know if I went to far, but she did not commit herself to the mental hospital nor did she commit suicide. From that day on – her entire demeanor changed. She became more withdrawn from me, but appeared to have found a well of strength I had no idea she had. She may have been hiding her feelings – afraid I would confront her again - but the truth is, I was completely drained emotionally. My husband said that he had enough – I was too involved and it was time for us to let her fly on her own. We were in the process of moving to an old farm house, so I worked it out where she and her son would have free rent for a month to try and sort things out. I left her as many comfort items and necessities as I could, then my family and I packed up and left.
She wasn’t stranded by any means. I called often to see if there was anything she needed from the store – or if she needed a ride to her appointments. She accepted when necessary, but her determination to make it on her own was apparent. I explained that the organization could help her pay 1/2 the rent and bills for the next month – but that was all the program allowed for. She had recently received a small inheritance from her grandmother and also had good work from home business – so I knew she was able to make it on her own now if she wanted to, and she did. She spoke frequently with her husband and made efforts to have his probation transferred to Texas. She found an apartment in town, transferred her son’s bus route – and became even further removed from me and my own life. I still helped as much as she allowed me to – I knew she needed the space and I prayed earnestly that her husband would get the transfer so that they could be a family again.
She spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with our family but after the holidays, she dropped another bombshell. Her husbands transfer was not approved and she and her son were moving back into the exact same situation that had pushed her over the edge the first time.
I questioned everything. Was it all worth it? Did we help her or make things worse? Was I really called to this line of work? I tried not to think about her leaving too much – or what she would face when she got there. Being the eternal optimist – I put myself in her shoes, and the truth is that I would want to be with my husband and children as well, regardless of the circumstances. So once again we helped her move – I told her son to take care of his mommy, gave her a hug, told her I loved her and then let her go.
So what now? After all the drama over the past few years, drama that I chose to be a part of – all of the sparrows are gone. I will stay in touch as much as they allow, but this phase is over and I am uncertain if I have the strength to continue. Helping others is a lovely thought, loving people is a universal law – but all love brings pain and I have to keep asking myself how close to the fire do I really want to get? Deep inside of me, I know I will try again – but the who, what, when and where are unknown. I cling to my faith and the knowledge that God is in control, He always has been and He always will be. Letting go is as hard or easy as we want it to be.
~ Corrie Ten Boom
