Even though I questioned things, I trusted that the professionals would know better.

I also believed that my daughter, Nikki, would be able to comprehend what was going on enough to recognize if her diagnosis was accurate or not.

But sadly, most of the time Nikki couldn’t comprehend what was going on with her wellbeing.

With severe side effects from the prescribed drugs, Nikki wasn’t able to be mindful of what the drugs were doing to her both physically and mentally.

At one point, my daughter dressed, acted, and ate differently together with consuming alcohol obsessively.

Overall, she was a different person.

In hope of receiving help to get better, my daughter blindly trusted what she was being told and conveyed this trusted information to me.

Watching closely from the outside, I witnessed firsthand my daughter’s pain both physically and mentally. And her continued hope and struggles for relief.

With each day passing, new false promises came from her health care providers.

Feeling helpless, all I could do was secretly cry. But with each tear, I continued to grasp for hope. Hope that someone would help my daughter’s pain go away. Hope that someone would recognize what was happening.

Unfortunately, no one ever did.

As time went on, fortunately the uncontestable trust faded away regarding Nikki’s health care treatment plan.

Nikki began to look at things differently. Becoming more and more observant that something was wrong.

And with that came the awareness to take charge of her own self-help care.