After the craziness of the night before, yesterday could only be called strange. Some of it was my lack of sleep and a brain that doesn’t handle that very well any more, but some of it was Hope.
When Hope woke up yesterday morning, she remembered screaming and me taking her to my room. She was happy and cheerful and looked at me as if I was a nut job when I asked her if she remembered crying. Her eyes were puffy and red, though, so I am pretty sure it really happened.
The consensus of Hope’s team was that the trauma work during the intensive stirred up a lot of things in Hope and what I saw was grief. Whether it is good or not remains to be seen. If Hope allows herself to process the grief, this is good. If she can’t handle that magnitude of grief, we may be looking at hospitalization. They said some nasty stuff, like personality disintegration.
Hope had a great day until MK and Mali came home. Hope started peeing. And peeing. Her pants. The floor. She tried to pee in the dogs water dish.
This morning I just tried to hold the line firm and got her on the bus. The Dad and GB come home tonight.