I’ve been lurking for a few years, but it’s time to come out of the shadows. My
I’m a 60-something mom to a 43-year-old adult child with multiple challenges: mental and physical illness, homelessness and poverty. In her 40’s now, she’s made a succession of bad decisions … and is now squatting alone in a tiny travel trailer on public land, alone and snowed in 30 miles from the nearest town. She can’t get out, and it’s unlikely anyone can get in, there’s no phone service, she’s drinking ground water and burning wood in her trailer to stay warm.
This winter is going to be very, very hard. I am probably going to need some friends.
I’ve been at this awhile, nearly 30 years, but I enabled-enabled-enabled for most of that time. Because my child is trans, I allowed her to defer much of adult life, telling myself that “gender reassignment will sort all this out!”
Only, it didn’t. Even after transition, her issues mounted. Right on schedule, in her early 20s, mental illness started to manifest. She did manage some stability—employment, housing—for about 10-12 years in her 30’s, but she’s never been a full participant in the wider world.
A year ago, health issues began sending her to the hospital—and in March, she was evicted from the trailer park where she’d lived for 12 years. She did some couch surfing, but finally pulled her trailer to a remote location on BLM land, and has settled there. No job. No money … and now, she can’t get out.
This is a recipe for tragedy, and I need to be prepared.
I was able to get a satellite communicator into her hands before she got snowed in. Made for backpackers and running on solar, this lets her send brief emails out, and it contains a panic button, so she can summon help in an emergency. I am able to hear from her each day, which is a priceless blessing.
There are positives. A couple of years ago, she began accepting treatment, and she’s being pro-active with her caregivers, going to appointments and taking her medications. She got out a couple of weeks ago, made it to town, and checked in at the clinic: all great steps forward for her.
But the risks of her situation are so great. Fire. Infection from groundwater. Injury away from camp. Flare-up of health issues. Illness.
You all know the dance. I am caring for myself and sitting on my hands. This is my child’s dream, this is what she wants, and she is the only one who can make it work.
So I thought I’d pop up, since I’m hanging out here more and more. Nice to meet you all.
I’m a 60-something mom to a 43-year-old adult child with multiple challenges: mental and physical illness, homelessness and poverty. In her 40’s now, she’s made a succession of bad decisions … and is now squatting alone in a tiny travel trailer on public land, alone and snowed in 30 miles from the nearest town. She can’t get out, and it’s unlikely anyone can get in, there’s no phone service, she’s drinking ground water and burning wood in her trailer to stay warm.
This winter is going to be very, very hard. I am probably going to need some friends.
I’ve been at this awhile, nearly 30 years, but I enabled-enabled-enabled for most of that time. Because my child is trans, I allowed her to defer much of adult life, telling myself that “gender reassignment will sort all this out!”
Only, it didn’t. Even after transition, her issues mounted. Right on schedule, in her early 20s, mental illness started to manifest. She did manage some stability—employment, housing—for about 10-12 years in her 30’s, but she’s never been a full participant in the wider world.
A year ago, health issues began sending her to the hospital—and in March, she was evicted from the trailer park where she’d lived for 12 years. She did some couch surfing, but finally pulled her trailer to a remote location on BLM land, and has settled there. No job. No money … and now, she can’t get out.
This is a recipe for tragedy, and I need to be prepared.
I was able to get a satellite communicator into her hands before she got snowed in. Made for backpackers and running on solar, this lets her send brief emails out, and it contains a panic button, so she can summon help in an emergency. I am able to hear from her each day, which is a priceless blessing.
There are positives. A couple of years ago, she began accepting treatment, and she’s being pro-active with her caregivers, going to appointments and taking her medications. She got out a couple of weeks ago, made it to town, and checked in at the clinic: all great steps forward for her.
But the risks of her situation are so great. Fire. Infection from groundwater. Injury away from camp. Flare-up of health issues. Illness.
You all know the dance. I am caring for myself and sitting on my hands. This is my child’s dream, this is what she wants, and she is the only one who can make it work.
So I thought I’d pop up, since I’m hanging out here more and more. Nice to meet you all.