At first light I went to see my daughter. Pale, distant, lost and almost non-responsive to anything I said. Seeing her arms with cuts on them, top to bottom I wept but knew I had to control myself for her. Superficial cuts with none requiring stitches nevertheless...
We drove around in the car for a very long time but I don't remember anything said by either of us. I do remember she hardly said a word and that's not her style. I do remember trying to let her know how much I loved her and that her life had great value.
This set in motion a new line of thinking that my daughter needed me more than I needed to be with a new love. It was my constant thought the next few days. Miss New Love sensed it and even went to see her therapist and wrote a poem about her feelings. I still have that poem.
On Friday night I called someone seeking clarity because I was apprehensive leaving Miss New Love due to her BPD issue and all that goes with that. I knew it would be intense, I knew it would involve emotions and actions I did not want to see. I had witnessed irrationality with her children for what were little things most of the time.
But my daughter was more important.
Little did I know that after I left that night(stay tuned for one of the scariest moments of my life) she too would attempt suicide.
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