Carmen María Montiel - Stolen Identity

“No, Mami , no. They are not expelling me. It was not mine.” Here we go. The old story of “It is not mine. It is my friend’s.”

“Alexandra… who is going to believe that?”

“ Mami , it is true! Anyway, I told them to call you, that even though I am living with my dad you need to be informed. Please, wait for his call.”

Oh my God! She is delusional. She is getting expelled. The school has a zero-tolerance policy on drugs. I know about cases in previous years when kids got expelled even with all of the excuses they made. Why was it going to be different this time?

The principal called. I know he has a sincere appreciation for Alexandra. This man knows the psychology of the teenagers he deals with and manages them very well. You cannot ask for a better head of the high school. After explaining what happened, he said the incident occurred on Tuesday and that this morning they had a meeting with her father, which Alejandro never told me.

He said Alexandra collaborated and was believable. And the school was not going to expel her, but there were going to be consequences that would be explained to me on Monday. She and another boy were suspended until Monday. I did not know yet why the school was protecting Alexandra and I will be forever grateful for that. Expelling her would have destroyed her, and I would have lost my daughter completely and forever. She would not have been able to recuperate from that. It would have been too much for her. She had enough with everything that had happened in our family.

Ok… this is it! I called my lawyers again and told them they needed to speed up filing the motion to get my daughter back. That it was obvious she was under no supervision by her father and this had gone way too far. My daughter was on the verge of losing the year for missing days or getting expelled.

Thursday went by quietly until around 7 p.m., when Alexandra called me again.

“Mommmm…!!! You know my car got towed. I need you to go with me to get it. Since the car is under your name, I cannot go alone.”

“Alexandra, have you noticed that something wrong has been going on with you every day of the week?”

She started to scream: “ Mami , you need to…!”

I hung up. She called again.

“Did you hang up?”

“Yes, I did. I am your mother and until you respect me, I will not talk to you.”

She started screaming again: “ MAMI …”

Click. I hung up again.

Just like with other people, I have even lost my daughter’s respect.

I had an appointment on Friday at my lawyer’s office. I am working to get on the stand. I have never done that before, and the lawyers from the opposite side will try to destroy me, to get to me, so I needed to learn how not to let them. In other words, I was coached on how to be on the stand.

Yes, you got that right! You have to be coached for that. Family court and any other court is a theater. The best show wins! You would think the truth always wins. Well, you need the truth and a good show, too. So, I figured that I had the truth already and now I am training to win.

On that day in the afternoon, around 2 p.m., Alexandra called me.

“Mommmmm, can you take me to get my car?”

This time she is sweet, but also sounded sad and depressed.

“Of course, Baby. I am in a meeting. As soon as I finish, I will pick you up.”

I hang up and asked the coach how much longer it would take. He said about an hour. So, we continued. About half an hour later, she called again.

“Mommmmm, can you come get me, please?”

It sounded like she was crying. I told them that I needed to go. I did not like the sound of her voice.

Ever since my problems started, I have been the perfect driver. I keep to the speed limit and do not make a misstep. I cannot afford that. So, even though I wanted to run get her, I did not go over the speed limit. I got to their building and called to let her know I was downstairs. By now, her father had moved to a luxury high rise downtown.

She got in the car. My God, she was like hobo, filthy, smelly, greasy hair. I cannot stand this!!! She looked awful!

I asked: “Are you okay?”

“No, Mami !”

Her eyes looked lost. She was crying, her eyes red. She pulled up the sleeve of her blue jean jacket, showing eight cuts on her left arm.

“I was going to jump from the balcony when you called to tell me you were down here!”

I did not know how I was able to be composed and calm because I wanted to scream and cry.

My poor baby. God gives you strength in the most important moments. Only God could have helped me through that time and so many others.

I did not cry. The shock was such that I could not cry. I was speechless. It felt like a lifetime, but probably seconds passed. I was looking at her and thinking what would be the best possibility at that time for my daughter… Definitely not the emergency room. It would take hours and be in her record as a suicide attempt.

This would prove to be a mistake that haunted me and saved Alejandro from losing his medical license. I called my psychiatrist. Yes, I have a psychiatrist. I needed one to help me recover. After all, I had post traumatic stress disorder and battered wife syndrome, plus I had to clean myself up from the medication Alejandro had been giving me. Years of abuse did this to me.

No answer. I left a message.

“Dr. Gus, I hope you are at your office. I want to bring my daughter to you.”

Within a couple of minutes, his secretary called me back. I explained, and she told me to come right in. The cuts are fresh. She has blood on them. I do not know how I can drive! The tears started to burst out of my eyes. And I do not want her to see me crying. I am shaking!!!

We get to his office, and he is with a patient. When he came out and saw her, he instructed his secretary to clean the cuts. We went to the bathroom, washed her arm, and applied peroxide and Neosporin.

While we were waiting, Alejandro called her. I took the phone and told him what was happening.

“Why is this happening to her?” I asked him.

We have not spoken in three months. But he is the usual victim. He always played the victim. He did not know anything.

“I don’t understand. But Carmen, she is depressed. Come home and I will give you some medicine for her.”

“Alejandro, you will never again medicate any of my children or me.” And I hung up.

We went in to see the doctor and I explained what I knew. Then he asked me to leave, so he could speak with Alexandra alone. When I went back in, Dr. Gus told me: “Take her to Menninger. I am calling and they will wait for her.”

Menninger is a mental health rehabilitation facility. This was all new to me. The doctor made it clear to me she did not need medication and that he will not give her any, that the more important thing now is to get her clean from all medication since she had taken Xanax.

“Xanax? Who gave her Xanax?” I asked.

Dr. Gus gave me a look which I understood to mean that it was better to leave it like that. When we got to Menninger, they would not let us in until they knew for sure that she was committed and we were ready to pay $28,000 for a three-week stay. My God! I do not have that kind of money now. Alejandro emptied the bank accounts and I do not have access to the money. Alexandra decided to call her father and said: “Let’s see how much he loves me. His watch is worth that much.”

She called: “Dad, I am at the hospital. Dr. Gus sent me to Menninger. But they need $28,000 in order to check me in.”

He started to scream: “You and your mom think I am a bank.”

“Dad, your watch is worth that much.”

“Put your mother on the phone.”

Then he started screaming at me: “I am not paying $28,000 or $1,000 for a spoiled girl that is just afraid of a drug test.”