Saturday morning. Independence Day 1998. Today will be fun! No staff to watch over us like hawks. I call our friend to see what the plans are. No answer. I call again a little later. He's "busy." I leave a number he can call me at and hang up, a sick feeling starting deep in my stomach. I know something is wrong by the coolness in the voice on the other end of the line. He finally calls back only to tell me he isn't coming. He's made other plans and can't make the trip up to see us. I ask about future plans and he answers cooly saying he'll 'let me know.'

I hang up and try to stuff back the tears, but I'm unsuccessful. I keep my back to the kids and start to give in to the pain, quietly sobbing once or twice, but realize I can't do this to them. I have to be strong. It is time to stuff it back in... push it down into the blackness where I can't feel it. I breathe and fan my face to slow down the redness forming in my cheeks. I know I am not really hiding much, but I try to smile and not to show my disappointment. My eyes give me away. The kids all respond differently. One is silent and brooding; another openly questions "why?" The teenagers are visibly angry, responding differently. One erupts in anger the other in tears.

My niece called them back, these people who we'd planned on spending the rest of our lives with, to find out why we were being pushed away. They were angry that we'd left without talking to them about what was going on. That was my fault. I was so exhausted and afraid to be rejected again that I ran before they could turn us away. I'd never wanted to overstep our boundaries or cause anyone problems, but I couldn't stay there with my niece exploding in anger often, my job prospects fallen through, the relationship that had started out seemingly as an answer to a prayer had taken a very wrong turn.

It started out easy enough, but the stress of the trip, losing our housing, people failing to follow through on their promises, etc., has taken its toll on the children and me.

My niece is angry at being closed off and pushed away. She angrily calls again, yelling, only to be hung up on. We'd tried to call them to let them know what was going on, where we were and our plans to get back to the area quickly and get back on track. I'd written them. He'd promised to come see us for the holiday and talk about the future. He isn't coming. His answer to our phone calls is a knife in the heart, and now my niece was angry, lashing out. When I asked her not to call anymore, she snaps. She is young, angry, hurt and follows the example she's been given by her parents when they are angry or hurt - lash out at others.

This uncontrolled behavior awoke the feelings of being trapped that I'd felt for so long. I told her I couldn't have it, wouldn't have it. She doesn't believe me. She has no reason to believe me. I've never stood up for myself in front of the children other than passively and in an effort to calm the storms. I feet her frustration but understand agency and that I can't control the actions of others. I understand exactly how she is feeling, but I don't express it the same way. I tell her that her violent behavior has to stop or she'll be gone, outta here on her way back to her family who'd been so cruel to her. I explain that I didn't leave a bad marriage filled with intimidation and power/control struggles only to have her start in on us with the same tactics.

We were later turned out of the third shelter because my niece broke the confidentiality rules, told my spouse's family where we are and snapped emotionally. She intimidated with shoving and screaming. She began slugging, arguing and cussing at my children me. I called the shelter staff to ask for their help. Their response to me was that it was a holiday weekend and no one would be coming. I was on my own. They also said we'd be out of the shelter Monday morning because She'd broken confidentiality. I explained the situation, the distance between us and who had been told (2400 miles) but no amount of explanation changed their minds. We were to be out Monday morning. It didn't matter that we had no money, no transportation, no family to turn to, no choices whatsoever. BANG! That societal wall fell and we were going to be held behind it whether we liked it, deserved it, were buried by it or not.

I hung up in stunned silence. I turned to my niece who was still obviously pumped up with her own bodies adrenaline from a bipolar manic rush. She was livid with me for calling for help. This was all my fault, her anger, our situation, her pain. She raged on, slamming her fists on furniture, shoving whoever is closest, releasing all the pain and frustration that has been building inside her for 16 hard years. I want to reach out to her, but understand she is not lucid and understanding what's going on at this moment. Reasoning is gone. Her sparkling blue eyes are black without understanding or clear thought processes. She will hurt herself or us and not even recognize she is doing it. She is out of control. I pick up the phone again to call the police, and she panics. I explain what is happening and the dispatcher, rather than listening to what I'm trying to say, she focuses on the sounds in the background and catches only parts of what I'm saying. She hears only "shelter ...slugging, screaming ... out of control... needs help." She says the police have been dispatched and will be there in seconds.

This is the point when I realize how angry I am at the world for the pain that exists here. There is no one to pin the anger on, no organization or conspiracy to blame, this is life. I am angry at life and hate being pushed into a corner again to cower or fight back. No one should have to live in "fight or flight" mode forever. I cannot and will not, whether the person raging before me is someone I dearly love or not. My kids have a right to grow up without this violence. They need a chance to make choices for themselves, to develop their personalities, to fail without fear of serious emotional or physical harm, to succeed without manipulative maneuvering on someone else's part to take credit for their accomplishhments. They need to be allowed to be children before the world of adulthood is thrust upon them. No, this will not happen ...not here, not now. I am resolved, but still...

Standing before me is the little blonde girl I'd love since she was born, raging out of control with a disease that eats the frontal lobe of the brain when left untreated. She rages on and on, then collapses in tears and fears as I hang up the phone. The adrenalin and endorphins drop her mercilessly as they dissipated from her system. She is a teenager in serious angst trapped by life's challenges, shaped by her parents terrible choices and addictions, esteem crushed by the inability of others around her during her life to take responsibility for their own actions, the victim of abusers and molesters, a child of alcoholics and addicts. She's at once crumbling, contrite and in tears crying. I want to be her open arms. I've tried to be her open arms, but I can't do it all. I know my limitations and I reached them long before this day. It rips my heart apart to watch her in the spiral of coming down from a manic paranoid rush, but still... I have no choice. She goes outside to sit on the back porch.

The police arrive, guns drawn and circling the perimeter looking for the intruder who is assaulting the residents of this safe house. I step out on the back porch and stand by my niece to explain and to soften the blows of reality, but I will not remove the consequences of it. This is as important a part of life as any other lesson. I explained to the officers that there is no need for guns and that there has not been a break in. The altercation was between us, the residents. They come forward, a few look through the house to make sure things are okay and one talks to my niece and I. I explained the situation

We come to a stress filled compromise that the violence will stop and she'll stop calling the family that had housed and cared for my youngest three for a week while my niece and I drove 2500 miles with a small 15' Penske truck to our destination.

Somewhere along the line we come to a peace of sorts. I tell them we'll go into town to see the 4th of July celebration festivities and have some fun. We get ready to go when I overhear her on the pay phone again. When I come down the stairs to listen to what is happening, I realize she is on the phone with her grandparents 2500 miles away. She tells them, and so my exhusband, where we are. Then and there my mind is made up.

So again, we were moved.

It broke my heart to send my niece (my spouse's biologic niece) to go back to live with the chaos that has been her life until this point. I had so hoped we could work together to create a calmer more peaceful life for her, but her choices made it impossible. I cannot risk my children's healing by having them live in fear of her unpredictable volatility. I told her so, explained that I would not live through one more day of someone else's hell threatening me or my children's safety. Not from her, not from my spouse, not from anyone.

We have traveled approximately 2625 miles, driven over 41 hours and been homeless and in shelters for to get to where we now reside.