Jo Nisbet - Laughing Star: A Story of Tough Love

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jo Nisbet was born in Northamptonshire, the second of four children, and grew up mainly in suburban London and the Thames Valley. After leaving university, where she studied psychology, Jo lived in Venezuela, working as a teacher, and travelling extensively in the Caribbean and South America. She returned to London in the early eighties and began a career in Public Relations. Jo's daughter was born in 1989 and her son in 1991, both of whom were diagnosed with ADHD. Having spent some time living in Washington, DC, the family returned from the States in 1998 to settle in London and she trained as a counselling psychologist. Jo now runs a successful private counselling and coaching practice and frequently works with ADHD children and their families.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my family, friends, and neighbours, and all those who supported me on this journey into the abyss and back.

In particular, thank you Emily, for permission to include your journals. It was so important to me that you should have a voice in this story.

Tom, for all you went through. You know I love you.

I am especially grateful to Jules and Ione who, on reading the very original journal, persuaded me to turn it into a book and to enter it into a literary competition, searching out new writing talent. That the book won first prize in both the regional and the national rounds of the competition gave me the courage to believe it was worth publishing.

Heartfelt thanks too to Janette and Bob. The part they played in this story is clearly described in the book and I am forever indebted to them for their unwavering kindness and love for us all.

Redcliff Ascent, for trying their best to get Emily back on the right path, and for the valuable life experience she gained from her time in the wilderness.

Oliver Rathbone, at Karnac Books (and Jo for introducing us), for giving this book an opportunity to do some good, both for other parents of difficult children, and for those who might be in a position, perhaps professionally, to be able to understand and to help other families in crisis.

CHAPTER ONE

I awoke with a start and lay rigid in my bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioning unit drowned the sounds of the night outside. The clock on the telephone beside the bed stated that it was 3.38 a.m. It was nearly time. I felt a wave of panic rise up within me and fought to control the shaking, heart pounding, gut-wrenching feeling of despair which threatened to overwhelm me. Calm down, get a grip, I said to myself. You have to get through this. Falling apart now won't do any good at all.

As I lay there, sweating and afraid, I heard footsteps and a gentle knock on the door.

Thanks Bob, I'm awake, I said.

I listened, straining for the sound of an approaching car. Nothing. Pulling on yesterday's shorts and sweatshirt that lay in a heap by the bed, I stumbled into the bathroom, splashed water across my face and drank huge gulps from the tap. Turning on the light I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. Haggard and hollow-eyed, with a nervous rash on my chinnot a pretty sight. I felt a wave of nausea rush over me. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes against it.

Padding barefoot through the kitchen and across the marbled hallway I thought I heard the sound of a car engine. I looked up at the galleried landing. Emily's door was closed. Bob and Janette tiptoed down the staircase and joined me, just as we heard footsteps beyond the front door. Bob let them in.

Officer Davidson and his wife, Cheryl, were calm and businesslike. Together we went up the stairs to the landing. Officer Davidson stood guard at the top of the stairway while Cheryl and I went to Emily's door. Before we went in she said:

Just wake her gently and tell her that it's time to go. Tell her that she can choose to go quietly, or we will have to use the handcuffs. I will have to watch her get dressed and go to the bathroom but, as much as possible, I will try to have respect for her privacy.

I stroked Emily's forehead and roused her from a deep sleep.

You need to wake up, darling; you are going to Utah today, now. They have come to collect you to take you to the Redcliff Ascent programme. This lady's name is Cheryl and she and her husband are here waiting for you to get ready. So, up you get. I will stay with you.

Emily lay in the darkness, eyes staring. For a moment I thought she would lose it and start shouting but she seemed to change her mind and instead got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

Emily, I have to be with you at all times, said Cheryl gently. I'm sure you understand that I cannot let you out of my sight. She posted herself firmly in the bathroom doorway.

I waited on the landing while Emily threw on jeans and a sweater and followed as Officer Davidson and Cheryl took her down the stairs between them to the front door. Tears were streaming down her face but she was calm and silent. She let me hug her and I told her that I love her, and that she would be in my thoughts every minute that she is away. And then she was gone.

Stunned, I stood and watched the car pull away. It had all been so quick. So few words spoken. There seemed to be so much to say and yet nothing left to say. The result was a sort of heavy silence and the darkness of the night, oppressive and humid. I could almost persuade myself that it had just been a scene played through my mind in some kind of sick daydream. That I could change any bit of it at will and rerun it with a different outcome. But I couldn't. I had let two strangers come into the house and take my fourteen-year-old daughter away. I didn't know how long it would be before I would see her again. How could I do this? How had I reached a point where this is the only thing left to do for Emily to help her straighten out her life? What would happen to her? Would she be able to cope? What the hell is this concept of tough love and why must I do it? Why is this happening to us?

I sensed Janette and Bob behind me. I shivered and turned. Gradually I allowed myself to dissolve into tears and just let them hug me like a little child. The enormity of what I had done seemed too much to bear and I simply could not control myself any longer.

We sat up for what remained of the night: talking and drinking hot tea while I let my dearest friends, Janette and Bob, remind me of why I had sent my lovely daughter to boot camp and what makes this the best thing to do for Emily right now. How, when this time has become the past, I would look back and say: Thank God I had the courage to do this.

I shall never forget their warmth, compassion, and love that night. We must have covered every conceivable positive outcome to this terrible thing while watching the dawn break over Topanga Canyon behind the houses and waiting for the phone to ring.

Every hour Officer Davidson reported on their progress. In the first call they had reached the airport in Los Angeles, where they had boarded the plane for Las Vegas. Then they had landed at Las Vegas airport and were heading off towards St George, Utah, and finally to their destination, the Redcliff Ascent field office at Enterprise. At 10.00 a.m. the Davidsons signed off. They had delivered Emily safely to the Redcliff Ascent Programme together with her passport and a letter from me explaining why I had done this terrifying thing to her and how it was because I love her.

CHAPTER TEN

W ith the prospect of Emily going away to school, I began to dream of getting my life back, and spending some time in Manchester with Jonathan, hopeful that we could repair our tattered relationship. I set about ordering school uniform, sewing on name tapes, and trying to enthuse Emily about the idea of going. She, however, had decided that she was not going to Frensham Heights.