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My Daughter: Once Lost, Now Found
The following article was written by a parent of a Thresholds member. Dorothy Rayford tells of her struggle trying to help her daughter get treatment for bipolar disorder, and also shares the newfound relationship she has with her daughter now that they are connected with Thresholds.
In 1980 my daughter left for college in Atlanta. It was at this time that she was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but I was not told about it. This was the beginning of a journey I was not prepared to take.
At college, my daughter lived in the dormitory and I got letters from her periodically. Her grades were also being mailed home. Things seemed to be going well, but soon I noticed that her grades were slipping and I wondered what was going on. She tried to reassure me by saying she was trying, and she was very insistent on staying to work things out. We agreed to let her stay, but when she came home for Christmas break we knew that something was wrong. The family encouraged her to stay home but she went back to Atlanta anyway. That's when her letters became shorter and increasingly lost detail. The letters eventually stopped all together.
Before I could get down to Atlanta, I learned that my daughter was missing. All attempts to reach her resulted in nothing. I called the school and they didn't know where she was, the Atlanta police department couldn't give us any information, and we learned nothing from the hospitals. My entire family was concerned. We hoped, prayed, and put it in God's hands. My daily prayer to God was to let her be o.k.
It was agonizing, but one day- 17 years later- I finally got a call. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a Tuesday morning in August. It was my daughter and she said, "Momma, I want to come home!" I was so calm - I couldn't believe how calm I was at the time. I said I wanted her home, too. I thought, "THANK GOD! He answered my prayers." I called my family, and her brother and sister. It was like a big family reunion.
After my daughter returned, I called her social worker and she told me about my daughter’s situation. She explained that my daughter was on medication and what those were, what her medical issues were, and that she was going to have her files sent here. Seventeen years had gone by and so much had happened. My daughter had been in the hospital, but eventually got involved with social services and lived in a group home for women with mental illness. My daughter built a life as best she could. The social worker said my daughter had helped out at the local church and was involved with a day program. Through that program, she even got a job working part-time in a grocery store. I was melancholy, thinking "All this was happening and I wasn't there."
It hit me like a ton of bricks: she left one person and came back changed.
Time has passed. My daughter is now involved with the program at Thresholds South. She is doing well, but this time, she is not alone. She is getting help with the love and support of her family. My daughter’s illness has been quite a journey for all of us. It is an illness that affects the whole family, not just the person with the diagnosis.
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