Yesterday my nephew allegedly spotted Michael Jackson on Hollywood Blvd. Not an impersonator but THE Michael Joseph Jackson. He has his days. For the most part he’s happy, practically manic, which is better than before when all he did was cry, mope around, and look spacey. His mom, my mom, and my step father were accompanying him to a group therapy session when he told the therapist that nothing was wrong with him, that his mother was his “motherfucking problem.” I honestly can’t say that I entirely disagree with him either. But at this point, whether he admits to it or not, the problem is definitely his and his mother is now a victim of it. So after he cursed at the therapist, he walked outside and yelled “there goes Michael Jackson!” then took off down the street with my mother chasing behind him. I saw him this past weekend and he seemed fine. There were a few moments where he seemed a little confused, but he didn’t scare me like before when he would just stare at me, waiting for instruction because he was unsure of what to do next. A lot has happened since last December, when he was perfectly fine. His girlfriend not only dumped him but she had a serious vendetta against him. His mother decided she no longer wanted him living with her, so she put him out in the pouring rain and tossed all of his belongings in the garbage behind her apartment building. He walked 4 miles in the rain that night to my mothers’ house and spent the following few weeks despondent. When my mother went out of town for the weekend, he left with “the devil”, the guy who my family took in when he was 12 (see my Christmas Sleepover post). He’s always been jealous of my nephew so I wasn’t surprised to learn that he’d given him crystal meth to try and then let him wander around L.A. alone for two days. When my mother returned from her trip she received a frantic call from my nephew’s best friend saying that he’d shown up at his house in the middle of the night, dazed and confused, and then disappeared again. The devil’s story was inconsistent. He still hasn’t told the full truth. Anyway, we found my nephew when he showed up at his mothers’ front door, and for days after that he was severely depressed and suicidal. He ended up being committed for about 4 days and has been improving steadily since his release. My mother remains everyone’s hero. Without her, none of us would have survived this. I believe that had he been my own son, I probably would have been better equipped to deal with it. But he wasn’t and although I love him dearly, I couldn’t handle him being sick at all. I didn’t know where to begin to help him and it was killing me to feel so hopeless. He’s 19 years old and our relationship has always been surface; nothing ever too close but as close as most extended family members are to one another. I could talk to him by phone, tell him I loved him and would always be there for him, buy him things to help keep his mind from wandering, but I couldn’t deal with him face to face for too long without feeling immense stress. We played pool and talked while he was committed but when he wanted to come and spend the night at my house, I panicked. I think we all panicked in the beginning, save for my mother who just dove right in and kept us all from falling apart. She was clearly worried sick and was crying every day, but it didn’t paralyze her like it did the rest of us. She is truly everyone’s hero. About 10 times a day he tells her he loves her.

We’re all doing a lot better now. He seems to be 90% back to his old self, thankfully. It's a happy and hopeful ending.