The Crisis

Trigger warning: Suicide

 

 

 

 

The week of Easter 2025, I called the crisis hotline twice for my six-year-old. Yes, I said six-year-old. This is one of those things that you never expect as a parent. When it was happening, it felt surreal in a nightmarish sort of way.

Below is an account of the event.  You should know that we didn’t just magically end up in this situation. This saga really began in January of this year. Between January and April, there was a steady decline in her mental health.  She seemed to be stressed about everything. Mundane tasks became difficult to complete: getting out of bed in the morning, changing her clothes, putting on shoes, homework, even picking something to eat when she was hungry. Everything that she was struggling with during this time had not previously been hard for her.  

Ahsoka had been in therapy for a while; in March we increased the therapy. We kept her psychiatrist up to date. And in March we were also able to apply for a Mobile therapist. We hoped by having all these services in place we would see improvement.

We tried a myriad of different things at home to help stabilize her mental health. We gave her options of things that we thought might help and tried to see if she had any ideas too. 

• For her struggle in the mornings we tried getting everything ready the night before this helped but the physical act of getting dressed still overwhelmed her
• She picked a song that she wanted to wake up to (the thought being that it would help her wake up in a better mood). We tried a few different song choices none of them helped. She just didn’t want to get up.
• When offering food options we simplified to two options instead of listing what was available because she told us it was overwhelming hearing a list of options. Then she would get upset because she didn’t want the options that we gave her. We didn’t want to keep going down the list because that stressed her out too. So when she didn’t like our options we would let her be and think about what she might like. 
• We tried incorporating quiet play into the morning but then she didn’t want to stop playing to go to school. There’s never enough time for her to play. If she could, that would be her whole day. 

There seemed to be a never ending list of stressors; homework, choosing a story for bed, going to bed, waking up, transitioning to an activity, even a fun activity, EVERY meal, making mistakes doing things that she enjoyed like art. Everything just seemed to fall short, and it all came to a head the week of Easter. I didn’t know what else to try. I felt like I had failed her in some way. I kept thinking, Shouldn’t a mother know how to help her child? Shouldn’t I know what she needs? Why can’t I find any strategies to help her?

Ahsoka’s anxiety about life in general had grown exponentially and the week before Easter. The only time she wasn’t screaming or crying at us was when she had her tablet (and that time is not usually very long, especially on school nights). Anytime we talked to her or asked her to do something, even something fun, she would be upset about it.  I remember one time that week we took the kids to the park, which is usually her happy place, and she was upset because we only had two hours (often we go for three to four hours) and she said, “it’s not enough time to do everything”. She was so stressed about deciding what to do that she sat on the park bench or paced for thirty minutes before she went to play. When it was time to go she was upset because she had wasted so much time in the beginning deciding what to do. The anxiety was so bad that she was also struggling more than normal to sleep.

The first time we called the Crisis line that week was the night of Easter. Ahsoka had only slept for about four hours the night before. When she doesn’t sleep, we know that it’s going to be a rough day, full of all the emotions.

Everyone was on edge that day, knowing that if the wrong thing was said or the wrong look was given, she would erupt with emotion, sometimes with desperate sadness, extreme anxiety, or furious anger. We had fun activities planned for the day and hoped they would lift her spirits. Unfortunately it seemed to have the opposite effect. The art we made that day as a family didn’t come out the way she wanted, she didn’t find as many eggs as the other kids, the park time was too short, etc. It was so disheartening that activities she normally would have been thrilled about were triggering her instead. 

Matt and I had been able to de-escalate each situation that came up the whole day until bedtime. She was so emotionally exhausted by the end of the day that nothing would soothe her, and she just wanted it to end.

We were all in the living room trying to start the transition to bedtime when she started escalating again. During the last tantrum she started inflicting self-harm, scratching at her skin as hard as she could and saying she just wanted to “bleed and die”. When the scratching wasn’t working she said she was going to get a knife. I was able to block her from the kitchen so she tried scratching harder and looking around for something sharp to use. We kept telling her we loved her and that we could work this out. She screamed back at me, “Nothing you do helps me! You’re the worst parents in the whole world. If you really loved me you’d just let me die”. 

I know she was just saying these things in anger trying to get a reaction. I knew I needed to stay calm, and my heart ached. All week I’d felt like my heart was getting shredded and now it was just crumbling to bits while I had to stay strong for my girl. 

“Life is too hard. I just can’t do it anymore.” she said. That’s when she stopped scratching turned around and ran head first into the wall. I was stunned. It was the loudest “thwack” I’d ever heard. She shook it off and looked like she was going to try running at the wall again but Matt grabbed her and wrapped her in his arms. Ahsoka started crying and saying “I’m just too dumb to even die”.

We tried to comfort her, to talk her down, to keep her safe. Nothing we tried helped. We were exhausted from the lack of sleep that week. In that moment, I knew that we needed professional help. I knew that we couldn’t fix it this time. I called the Crisis Hotline.

Matt carried her to the playroom for the phone call and took the other children up to bed. While I sat in the doorway on the phone with the crisis hotline. We were all scared. The other kids had never seen her so desperate. They didn’t understand what was happening.  Jyn (5) was the most reactive. She’s my little empath. She wanted to give Ahsoka a hug to help her feel better. Ezra (3) looked like a deer in the headlights at first then started crying. 

When you call the hotline, it’s just an answering service. They ask if you need an ambulance or police assistance. If you don’t, then they call an agency (we work with an agency that has their own Crisis number). A crisis worker will call back within 30 minutes (max) and assess if you need a mobile unit or see if they can talk it through with you and the child or recommend going to the hospital.

While we were waiting for the crisis worker to call us back, I lost it. I’d held it together all day but in that moment, I broke. I was so scared, sad, and at a loss as to how to proceed. The tears just poured out of me. My daughter, who was still throwing things and trying to hurt herself, suddenly stopped. She saw me crying and the tears started for her too. We embraced while we were waiting for the crisis worker to call us.

I put her on my lap and we snuggled, telling each other how much we love each other and how we couldn’t imagine life without one another. You could feel the love bursting into the room. For as scary as this situation was, this was a beautiful moment for her and I. 

The crisis worker called and we described the situation, what had transpired and everything that had brought us to this moment. My daughter rubbed my arm or touched my face for most of the conversation trying to comfort me. We had both calmed down, thankfully.

We were able to stay home this time, because she had calmed down and promised the crisis worker she wouldn't try to hurt herself again. We didn’t need to go to the hospital this time, we just needed to follow up with the crisis unit at the clinic in the morning. We also promised that if she escalated again, we would go to the hospital immediately.

I’m grateful my partner and I have so much training in de-escalation and crisis.  We are by no means experts. We have lots of tools in our belt, but the truth of the matter is that no matter how much training you have, sometimes you need an outside professional to help.

While it seemed as if my six-year-old had calmed down and we felt like the danger had passed, we slept fitfully. In the morning, I called the crisis unit to follow up. I asked for an earlier medication appointment and an additional therapy session. The therapy session was scheduled immediately for later that week.  While the psychiatrist appointment took a little more work.  I was told that they didn’t have one for that week, not even an emergency appointment.

I called again on Tuesday and Wednesday to check about appointments, trying to see if there had been any cancellations. Each day my anxiety increased. Tuesday and Wednesday was an emotional roller coaster. Even though her crisis on Sunday had been resolved, it continued to feel as if she could easily escalate again. We finally got an appointment scheduled Wednesday to see her psychiatrist for Thursday of that week.

When your child is in crisis and you’re not sure how to proceed, it’s a scary feeling. For our family, we try to work with the services we have in place. If they had not scheduled me on Wednesday I might have started calling other places.  I didn’t want to go through another day or weekend without seeing the doctor. In the end there’s no right answer. I had to follow my gut and look for any way to find help for Ahsoka. 

Wednesday night, we had our second crisis situation.

Ahsoka was still not sleeping more than four hours together. That night, I was trying to get her to sleep. Matt had already tried. I went in about 9:30PM (her typical sleep starting at 8PM). I stayed with her, singing, rubbing her back, trying to help her calm down. Nothing worked.

About 10:30pm Ahsoka was still awake. She was getting mad at me because I was falling asleep while I was singing.  I asked her if I could put Instrumental Lullabies on the speaker for her.  She agreed.  I told her, “PLEASE, wake me or Dad up if you need something.“ She agreed. I literally couldn’t do anything else and the waves of guilt were relentless. I was so exhausted that I couldn’t stay away to make sure she was safely asleep but my mind was also racing when I got up to go to our room.  Would she be ok falling asleep by herself? Why couldn’t I stay awake for just a few more minutes? Is there something I should change about her bedtime routine to help her fall asleep? What could I change to help her?

Matt and I quickly drifted off to sleep not knowing how much time we would have until she needed us.  We were EXHAUSTED. We have a baby monitor in her room because of the night terrors so we can go help when she needs us.  However, on this night we were so exhausted that we didn’t hear anything until it was almost too late.

At some point, Ahsoka came into our room (which would usually wake us up) and went into the bathroom.  She decided to put on makeup at my vanity. She put on a full face of makeup and covered the rest of her exposed skin in glittery lip gloss so that she could "sparkle”.

 

This next part was the scariest for me. Ahsoka took my lipstick and went out to our bedroom door where she wrote, “I'm leaving. I love you! Goodbye, A”. She then proceeded to the other bedroom doors in our house and wrote the same thing.  She took the lipstick into her sister's room and drew something happy on her sheets. I honestly couldn’t tell you what she drew because it looked like random scribbles. She told us later she wanted to leave a happy picture for Jyn because she couldn’t read yet.

We slept through all of this on the baby monitor. Ahsoka went to Ezra’s (3yrs) room last.  She wrote on his door and while she was writing he sat up and asked her what she was doing. She told him, “I’m running away. Do you want to come with me?” He said yes. Because he's three, he had no idea what she meant.

At this point in our timeline, it was 2AM. When she went to close Ezra’s door, she forgot that if you’re not careful it slams loudly.  And thank goodness she forgot, because THAT is what finally woke us up.  We weren’t sure exactly what was going on but knew that we had heard a door and needed to check.

When Matt went out to check, Ahsoka had opened the baby gate to the downstairs. She was holding Ezra’s hand saying, “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

I’m so grateful we woke up and were able to stop them. Matt put Ezra back in his bed and had a long talk with Ahsoka about the dangers of going outside without an adult in the middle of the night. She was upset that we woke up and stopped her.  Matt was able to de-escalate her and convinced her to try and sleep.  He stayed in the bedroom with her and slept on the floor while I cried myself to sleep. 

We couldn’t take any more chances. We couldn’t keep living like this, in fear of her harming herself or running away. The next morning, I took her into the crisis unit. We needed help or we were going to risk losing her.  

Our local crisis unit is technically a walk in but if you make an appointment, you have priority.  I called our Blended Case Manager (BCM) in the morning to tell them what had happened and see if she could get us an appointment that morning.  

The BCM was able to get us an appointment. 

We checked in at the front desk.  The front desk staff know me, so when I told them I was there to speak with Crisis, they asked if we needed anything while we waited.  It was a kind gesture but honestly, I felt like the room was spinning because I was so overwhelmed and nervous about what to say. I felt like a bad parent. Was I doing everything I could? Was I doing the right thing? Why couldn’t I get a handle on this? Was I failing my kid? The self-doubt and the parent-guilt consumed me.

While we waited for our appointment, I talked a little to our BCM. Our Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) Family Peer had come to help support us too.  I was so grateful to not be alone. They were both so supportive, having both experience and advice to offer. 

When we finally got taken to the Crisis area they had everyone come into the office.  They asked us why we were there.  I told them about both incidents. I find it exhausting retelling traumatic experiences. It’s not like telling someone about what you did at the grocery store or out with friends. It tends to reopen that wound, the tear in your heart that had been healing. It’s hard to control the flood of emotion that comes over you. Then they asked Ahsoka if she wanted to talk with them alone first or if she wanted mom to stay and talk first.  She chose for me to take the first turn. Her BCM took her out to the waiting area, and I stayed. 

This is when I gave them some background regarding Ahsoka, filling in biological parents and what I knew of her bio-family’s mental health history. They asked me some questions to fill in anything I might have missed earlier. Questions like: “What does our home life look like?” “If we get sent home today, what is our safety plan?” etc. 

Then we switched. 

Ahsoka went in to talk with the crisis worker, deciding to take her BCM in for support.  While I was waiting, I spoke with our FASD Family Peer. She had been working with our family for a while, had brought her own children into the crisis center, and had supported other families through their own situations. I appreciated hearing her experiences. It’s always nice to hear that you’re not alone in these situations. 

The big decision to be made on this day was whether or not to have Ahsoka transferred to a hospital setting for a week or two until we could figure out what was going on. This was her third time in crisis in two and a half months. The question for everyone was, could we keep her safe at home? Locking up all the sharp objects was one thing, but keeping her from running away was a whole different thing. And then it wasn’t just her running away, which was bad enough, it was the possibility of endangering her sibling(s). 

 

At the end of the day, we decided to try taking her home. The doctor changed her medication, and we made a safety plan. Matt bought sensors for every bedroom door and the stairs.  The sensors would alert us if any bedroom doors opened, if anyone was on the stairs, and if the doors to the outside were opened. Matt’s phone would be alerted and a lamp beside our bed would light up.  With this safety plan in place, the Doctor felt comfortable sending us home.  He warned us, if Ahsoka came back into crisis, he would have to recommend her to a hospital for her safety.  

We went home exhausted, sad, and worried. The new medication she received could take about two weeks to start showing results and it came with side effects that we would have to watch out for.  I didn’t know if we’d made the right decision, but I knew I wanted to try one last time.  We brought her home, set up the cameras, scheduled with her mobile therapist, and talked to her school about what they might need to look out for.  

All we could do now was hope that our efforts would be effective. 

So, we waited. We gave all our kids extra love that week, appreciating the trial we had all just endured. We were vigilant with Ahsoka watching both for side effects of the new medication and signs of stress that might lead to an attempt. And Matt and I each took time to recharge our batteries, not only with sleep, but with some serious self-care.  

After we switched medication Ahsoka the suicidal thoughts stopped. She is still experiencing big feelings about thirty percent of the time which is a huge improvement. She started the medication at the very beginning of summer. I was afraid when school started again the stress would make her regress. So far we’re still at thirty percent big feeling and no suicidal thoughts. That’s a win in my book.

Normally, I remind you to just take one day at a time. In this situation - for our family - we were in true survival mode. I had to take my own advice and remind myself that sometimes I need to take my day minute by minute or hour by hour, and that’s ok. 

Wherever you’re at this week, know that you can do this. You’re not alone.