I made a huge amount of progress today, so much so that I feel as if I’ve had a stay of execution and in many ways that is true. I’d received another email from a teacher confirming my thoughts and feelings about the damage Jose has done in our home, the constant outbursts, terrible potential for violence, and how he has lately projected his hatred for me onto the other girls in our family. His threats, his attacks and his continuous maladaptive thoughts of ‘killing his mom’ are too alarming to live with each day.

I received a reprieve when I finally got through to someone at the state level. Someone I’d tangled with a couple of years ago over another child of mine who desperately needed mental health services, unable to live safely outside a psychiatric setting.

This man was in charge of the ‘Bring Them Home Initiative’ and I was impressed with his ability to squelch me. We went round and round, neither of us backing down until it was over and he graciously told me outside and off the record of some options I was unaware of.

I didn’t realize it was him I was talking to this morning but he did. I then instantly had a recall, not easy at 53, of a tall good-looking man who knew his stuff.

He made some phone calls, gave me a ton of suggestions and got me on the right track; a very little used lane since our state has nearly eliminated all funding for residential psychiatric help.

This expediter attacked the largest pile of indecipherable paperwork, I started faxing and emailing, and Jose’s superb counselor at the state hospital, Miss Pam, got on board as well, working all day on this very good possibility.

Before I’d reached this man I’d been hit with 12 negative replies from facilities just this morning, I fought back my tears and frustrations, kept praying and pressing forward and finally this door opened.

At least my foot is in it.