“My name is Bob Livingstone and I have been a psychotherapist in private practice for almost thirty years.  This blog post has been written ​ based on real experiences. The individuals depicted are fictional.”

My name is Roger and I am forty two years old.  I work as a general contractor in a small town in the Midwest.  I had been married for eight years when tragedy struck my family.  My wife, Rose was having a difficult time coping with life and I was so into running my business that I was oblivious to the deterioration of her mental health.

My daughter Cindy was eight years old at the time when I came home early from work one day.  I found Cindy in her room crying louder than ever.  She was grabbing her arm which I found out later from the doctor had been pulled out of its socket.  There was a bruise below her left eye and a burn on her right leg.  That burn was from an iron that my wife held in her hand as she came charging towards me.

I wrapped my arms around her and yelled for Cindy to call 911.  Rose dropped the iron after it scorched my back.  She fell down on the floor and scrunched her body into the fetal position.  My wife was crying uncontrollably, but I feel no compulsion to hug her or tell her everything was going to be alright.  My poor daughter was confused about the whole incident and didn’t know which wound to attend to first.  I held her gently because I didn’t know where all the sources of pain were.

The police came along with two ambulances.  All the neighbors were standing on their porches gawking at our house.  We were now the latest attraction for the bored masses; a Midwestern reality show.   I told the cops I didn’t need medical attention myself and would ride with my daughter to the hospital.  I knew that I couldn’t afford another two grand for an additional ambulance.

They took my wife to the locked psychiatric unit of the hospital where she was committed for being harmful to others.  Charges against her for assault were pending.

Cindy ended up spending two nights in the hospital. She obtained x-rays, MRI’s and medication.  The social worker suggested that I take my daughter to therapy and made an offhand remark that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to get help as well.

My wife is still locked down in the psyc unit and I could not find it in me to visit her there.

My daughter is not ok in any sense of the word.  She is having nightmares and is often afraid to leave the house.  When I look into her frightened eyes, I become enraged.  The anger feels like a volcano is erupting from the deepest core of my being.  How could my wife do this?  How could I not see it coming?  I didn’t protect Cindy and I had no idea there was a raving maniac sleeping next to me.

I asked Cindy to tell me what happened that day.  She says that her mom checked on her grades via computer she got zeros on a number of tests.  She said that her mom has gotten angry at her before, but never like this. She told me that Rose ran into the room with the iron in her hand, screaming at the top of her lungs. She was wildly swinging her fist and the iron.  Cindy recounts being burned on the leg and noticed her mom’s mouth formed in a grimace while continuing to make animal like noises.  Mom dropped the iron and proceeded to grab her daughter’s right arm and pull it as hard as she could until something popped. The pain was excruciating.

It is going to take a long time for Cindy to ever feel safe; maybe she will never be without internal terror.  I know I should visit my wife in the hospital, but I am afraid that I will say or do something that I will regret.  How could a mother harm her own child?  How could Rose be so vicious?  OK. Despite all my reservations I have about seeing my wife in the hospital, deep down inside going to see her is the right thing to do.

I want to talk about how I feel about all this, but I realize that I don’t have any close friends because I have spent most of my time trying to keep my business afloat.  I am under constant pressure always trying to figure out what bills I will pay and which ones will be delayed.  Life isn’t easy right now for my family.  Most of all I need to do all I can for my daughter.  I am so afraid she will continue to be a deer in the headlights.

I imagine what it will be like to visit my wife in the hospital.  Will she be an over medicated zombie?  Will she remember what she did to Cindy?  Will I start yelling at her?  Will I cry?  Can I forgive her?   How and why should I forgive such a horrible act?

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