Cinderella is home (YAY!)...with bright shiny new meds and a 60 year old psychiatrist with tattoos, piercings and gauges in his ears (Eww...but, KEWL!).
My butterfly has now faded and I am hopeful that I won't have to draw another one.
(HOWEVER, I am considering getting one TATTOO'd on my arm for her. I owe her a tattoo after getting an ambigram for her brother and sister after Prince Charming and I separated, and the symbolism of TRANSFORMATION seems fitting.)
In the meantime, I have hidden all of the Tylenol, Advil, cold medications and razors in the house.
This is normal, right? A new normal that the parent of a suicidal teen should expect?
And...MORE IMPORTANTLY...these fears will fade.