Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘daughter’ Category

Being a Mom is difficult, even in the BEST of situations!

I see my friends struggle with motherhood all the time.

Sometimes I can laugh and agree with them. Sometimes I empathize and feel their pain. Sometimes I bite my tongue and don’t let my opinion or disagreement be know, and sometimes I actually learn something.

Sometimes I learn from myself.

I became a mom at the tender age of 20.  Still merely a baby myself, I had so much to learn.  I tried my hardest to be a good mom, I never neglected her or abused her. I actually OVER doted on her and spoiled her in my effort to have her love me more than her (mostly absent) father.  I do look back and see glaring mistakes I made with her along the way…. mistakes that I wish I could undo or make right, but that’s all part of growing up, right?

My daughter was showing signs of mental illness and gender identity problems even at age 6 and 7, long before it was “cool” to be gay or “accepted” to be Bipolar.  I worked hard to get her help and counseling, but there was little know then about these issues.  Abandonment by her dad at age 12 did little to help the state of her mind.

I myself struggled with panic disorder and depression, anxiety and PTSD, making it difficult to function normally when I even did function.

Add to this already simmering pot of potential disaster, a screaming, broken, sick all the time,  baby boy… and you have a house full of exploding emotions.

I remember one night when Owen was about 2 months old, he had been crying for hours (again), nothing could calm him, he was in a terrible state.  I finally put him in his bouncy seat, in his crib and went to the bathroom to weep.  Marissa came in the bathroom and placed her hand on my shoulder, tears in her big brown eyes, and with all the courage a 10 year-old can muster, she simply said “Mom, I think it’s time to send him back… I think he’s broken”.  It is funny now, but at the time… I wondered if she was right?!?! What had I done to our little family?  I had no business being a single mom, AGAIN.  I saw the future, and it terrified me!

Of course, you can see I didn’t return him to the hospital, abandon him or give up… no, I actually started working harder to “fix” him.  Only to run into wall after wall of phoo phooing doctors, old fashioned parents, strange advice from anyone on the street that was brave enough to approach us, and more simply… isolation.

It’s funny how fast friends will run away from a screaming baby.  They run even faster from a screaming, violent, still breastfeeding 3 year old!  Nobody would babysit, nobody offered to play with him so I could sleep, or study, or even take a shower.  Owen was kicked out of 8, EIGHT, Amarillo daycares by the time he was 4 because of his behavior.  He cried spontaneously, was very anti-social, smart but bored, couldn’t talk, had daily meltdowns, and was sick all the time.   I became very dependent on Marissa, even at her only being 12,  so I could do some things alone.  She learned how to pacify him, she put aside her own problems and tried her best to be a grown up, poor baby, she did a wonderful job.  But Owen was still broken.

I almost got kicked out of school due to Owen being ill all the time, I don’t know how many times I was written up at work for missing due to my sick child, or my being late because of his morning rages.  I was falling apart in every area of life, so was Marissa… we were a complete and total mess.

I never saw the seizures.  I never knew what to look for,  I hate so bad to admit that now, but I was unaware, untrained.  I want to blame the many doctors I took him to, I feel that they should have seen these gelastic seizures, his missed milestones, something that surly pointed to his seizures. However, they didn’t… and neither did I.  I just continued doing all the things I knew to do… hide us all away like a dirty little secret.  He would become raging and violent in the grocery store, people would stare, so I would spank him… proving to these strangers that I was NOT going to let this spoiled little boy get his way! At home when he would rage I would spank him, shut him into his room, hold him down, throw him in a cold shower… all done in hopes he would stop screaming.  He was violent towards me at these times, coming at me with toys, hitting, biting.. such rage in those eyes! I felt surly he was possessed or mentally deranged, I knew I was raising the next mall shooter…I knew I was the worlds worst mom!  I just knew he hated me!  He never hated me, though, for any of these things, it was like he never remembered… now I see that he really didn’t.  He was seizing, not tantruming, Thank God he doesn’t remember… cause I sure do.. and my heart cracks in two every time I remember how I treated him.

One day, Owen was about 3 1/2, he had just gotten kicked out of his 8th daycare… I was at a complete loss, crying and screaming at him, completely frustrated… so I drove straight to Dr. Habersangs office, plopped Owen right on the counter and started screaming a the receptionist “Please!!! Help us!! I don’t know what to do with him! Something is WRONG with him and I want you to FIX HIM!! PLEASE!!!”  This was the day Pia Habersang diagnosed him with Aspergers High Spectrum and a complete over growth of yeast in his digestive tract, ears, throat and urinary tract.

I finally had something to work with, to research… and ultimately blame.  Aspergers.

It all seemed to fit, mostly.  The allergies, the tantrums, the cognitive development delays, his being so smart, but yet so different form the other children around his same age.  This HAD to be the answer!

The rages became fewer and further between with the addition of the new Gluten Free diet.  He still had trouble in school and with large groups of children, but he was starting to become a little boy, rather than the monster he was for his first 3 years.  Ages 4-7 he did fairly well, only raging about once a week, usually right before he started getting sick, or if he had an over stimulating day at school.  One of the things I started to notice by this time was that weather and time of day affected him.  Like an Alzheimer’s patient, he experienced “Sun Downers” almost daily.  I would research this, and it always said this was a characteristic of Neurological problems, not mental disorders like Autism or Aspergers.  So I dismissed that idea, Yup, never dreamed I saw a sign as far back as then, until last week.  (Kick, Kick, Kick)

Meanwhile, as Owen seemed to improve… Marissa started her decline.  Moody, violent, down right MEAN at times…. I suffered through the verbal abuse, hurtful glares and violent attacks just as I had with Owen all those years.. by hiding them away from everyone.  I would nonchalantly roll my eyes when asked about Marissa… usually playing it off as “you know teenage girls”… but I was screaming out for help in my head.  She would make up stories about me and tell people at school that I was abusing her or Owen. She accused me of playing favorites with Owen, she would get jealous of Owen and my time together. Owen and I started taking weekend road trips to just “get away” from the drama and the seething anger.  This only made matters worse. She became suicidal and regressed daily, crawling into herself… abandoned once again.

During her second trip to the Pavillion, I was crying to my mom on the telephone, I remember saying “I should never have been a mother! My son is broken, my daughter is a mess… I should just leave them now, before anymore damage can be done!”  I remember those words like they were yesterday.  The moment I said those words I realized I was at a precipice.  I had the power to change things, to change things for the better… or for the worse and just run away.  I was exhausted, frustrated, depressed and broken.  I could either start standing up for my children and get busy fixing them, or I might as well leave, because life could not go on like this any longer.  I could no longer be selfish and lazy and expect them to get well all on their own.

The very moment I decided to accept my silly little daughter for what she is, a mixed up, deep, beautiful introvert… I feel back in love with her.  The medicine helped, but she was my baby again, warts and all.  I may not agree with everything she says, does or believes… but I love her, and I will ALWAYS accept her for who she is.

As for my little son, I was prepared to live a life of mental problems with him.  I was prepared to be battered and broken at an old age, in hopes that he takes his rages out on me rather than a girlfriend, wife or friend.  I was prepared to not work outside the home for a very long time, live off of welfare in order to keep my son safe and hide him away from the cruel world outside.  I would joke that he would be a 40 year-old United grocery store sacker living in Momma’s basement.  But it hurt to think that was all we had for a future.

Now the future is here.  A possible new diagnosis, a possible new way of living.  I am terrified but also excited for this future.  I see both the good and the bad side of this possible new diagnosis.  I worry that me concentrating so much on Owen again, will cause my daughter to slide back into old fears and feelings.  I worry that if Owen does ultimately have to have brain surgery to fix him, there might be complications.. he could be permanently blinded, a quadriplegic, suffer severe memory loss….

Yes, I still suffer from my own mental illnesses, anxiety and depression being the main ones at this time.  The loss of my mom weighs on me daily.  She had become my biggest advocate, my biggest supporter, my favorite cheerleader in the crusade to “fix Owen”… and even though I believe 100% that she is the one making all this happen.. I still would give my left leg and right arm for her to be here holding my hand and stroking my hair as I worry and wait.

I have made many, many mistakes as a mother over the past 19 years.  I have also done some very unusual, amazing and beautiful things for my children.  I admit.. I am jealous of my friends and their “normal” children, and their normal, everyday, problems…  but God chose to give me Marissa and Owen… and I cant  imagine a life with anyone else.  I will continue to work hard, to learn, grow and become a better mother.  I will advocate for their health and I will champion for their happiness.  Who knows, maybe someday I WILL be a real Mother of the Year!

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

I knew it was sitting there.

I could feel its weight pressing down on my brain. I could feel it as if it were fire.  I was not touching it, but I could still sense the weight of it in my purse.  There was a little over $4 thousand dollars, right there in my purse.  Blood money, free money, will money, payment for 39 years of being moms “perfect child”, her “sweet baby”.

The stress is getting worse.  The kids are compounding everything I feel.  Just like a crushed tomato tied back together with string, I still ooz and bleed with every touch, jab, word. Ready to fall apart, easier than before.

The weight of depression, hopelessness, growing faster than a storm cloud in my mind. “Why can’t we just have one day of peace? Why can’t I have just a moment to think? Why can’t we just spend a day together without the fighting, the anger, the competition for my affections and favoritism?”

I am exhausted. Just thinking of a simple task like cleaning house or making the bed seem to weigh 500 pounds on my bruised brain.  I want to hide. I want to run away and hide.

The money, it’s right there.  It’s ready to burn my hand the moment I touch it.  I’m supposed to use it for bills, Christmas.. the kids, not me… not for myself, the kids.  Don’t touch it.

I slowly pull myself up in the bed.  I glance at the alarm clock, 2:30p.m.  I had fallen here just moments ago.  My bed a rescue raft, floating in my room for me to grab onto and wail into my pillows until the hopelessness and suicidal thoughts pass on by.  My raft is still shaking, threatening to sink.  I’m screaming inside, “It’s not going to get better! It is NEVER going to get any better!”   The kids will never get “well”.  Neither one has any illness that can be cured.  I will just be stuck in this life for the remainder of mine.  The same violence, the same temper tantrums, the same emotional drainage of mom day after day.  It. Will. Never. Get. Better….

I slowly drag my aching heavy limbs out of the bed and start pulling on clothes.  The argument that had just occurred between my children and I still ravaging my brain like it’s on repeat. The same depressing mantra on repeat:  “Its happened before, it will happen again, again, again, it will happen again.”

I look around the house. It’s a disaster. You would think that my teenage daughter, seeing her mother is drowning, would at least help with the housework.  I start pulling together dirty clothes, I make separate piles of colors and observe how they look like piles of dead leaves.  I will do the laundry, I can at least do that.

I quickly start to come out of the fog, suddenly I’m on fast forward.  Laundry, sweeping, dishes, clutter… each task tackled in a mindless rush. I can at least get these things done. I can at least leave a clean house.

The kids are in the background, sighing, stomping, slamming, sniffling… each, in their own passive aggressive way, are driving the nails into my back.  “You deserted me!”  “You took her side”, “you took his side”, “It’s not my fault!” “It’s all his fault/Her fault/YOUR fault!!” Each silent accusation a dart going into my skin. I ignore each dart with a disinterest, a tear slipping out silently instead.  “Don’t treat me like that”, I cry inside.  “I’m the one that loves you more than life!” “I’m the only one that understands you, but I’m tired!! Don’t yell at me, don’t hurt me! It hurts to be used like an emotional punching bag” “it hurts, It hurts, I HURT!!!”

Instead, I just keep cleaning, tears running down my face.  I want to run and hide, back onto my raft, back into my cave, I want to cling to the safety of the bed and hide. I keep doing the dishes.  I look out the window into the backyard.  Birds, a dog, a squirrel… things that usually make me smile instead make me feel the exhaustion of my own inner darkness.  There is such an anger in being depressed, like, how dare the sun shine when I feel such pain? Does it not care that I can only feel, can only see darkness?

Dishes, concentrate on the dishes.  Concentrate on the work.  Feed the bird, feed the dog, mop the floor, change out the laundry, feel the weight of the money in my mind, count it.. weigh it… smell it.. finish the dishes.  Finish the Dishes.

Freedom is in the weight of that money.  Freedom from everything weighing me down in this house, in this life.  It will never get better, so why stick around?  Why should I stay here and watch it all fall apart?  Why should I be the one to always have to fix, mend, tape, glue, wipe, heal… Why should I be the abused one? I can’t think, I can’t heal, I am supposed to be “momma’s STRONG girl” but my strength was obviously buried along with my mother.  It’s holding her hand in the cold darkness, it is certainly not holding my hand as I struggle to stay afloat.

I finish the dishes, I continue to stand at the sink, the moment has come.  The moment that entered my thoughts as soon as the money hit my hands.  Turn around, walk out the door, fill up the car and just go… just GO…. Walk out the door… WALK OUT THE DOOR…

I can’t seem to move.  Whats the problem?!?! Why am I not doing what I should, what I want, What I know will keep my children safe.  I am the problem, I am the reason their life is so chaotic and horrible.. I should leave, let them move on, let someone more stable and healthy deal with their needs.. I Should Just Leave.

I slowly turn around, away from the sink, away from my old life, away from the accusations and the pain. I turn, I turn away and find myself looking at the alarm clock, the alarm clock beside my bed… 2:35 p.m.

Read Full Post »

(Just thinking of my daughter today, wherever she might be…)

 

Now that I’ve lost everything to you,

you say you want to start something new,

and it’s breaking my heart you’re leaving,

baby I’m grieving.

 
But if you wanna leave take good care,

hope you have a lot of nice things to wear,

but then a lot of nice things turn bad out there.
Oh baby baby it’s a wild world,

it’s hard to get by just upon a smile.

Oh baby baby it’s a wild world.
I’ll always remember you like a child, girl.

 

You know I’ve seen a lot of what the world can do,

and it’s breaking my heart in two,

cause I never want to see you sad girl,

don’t be a bad girl,

but if you want to leave take good care,

hope you make a lot of nice friends out there,

but just remember there’s a lot of bad and beware,

beware,

 
Oh baby baby it’s a wild world,

it’s hard to get by just upon a smile

Oh baby baby it’s a wild world,

and I’ll always remember you like a child, girl.
Baby I love you,

but if you wanna leave take good care,

hope you make a lot of nice friends out there,

but just remember there’s a lot of bad,

and beware, beware,
oh baby baby it’s a wild world,

it’s hard to get by just upon a smile.

Oh baby baby it’s a wild world,

and I’ll always remember you like a child, girl.

Read Full Post »

I am lacking.

I am lacking in the “passion department”.  I know it is just the depression and grief from my daughter leaving (against my will).  I know it is the indifference of the over worked Cable Guy.  I know it’s due to the lack of money from a job that barely even uses me as a warm body and to where I am subjected daily to mean-spirited women.

I am lacking in things other than just passion, though.  I am also lacking in energy, smiles, creativity and sleep!

I fear the effect this will have on my sweet little son.  I fear the effect this will have on my will to write.  I have been depressed before, but I have never had the reasons just keep raining down on my head like this!  I have had one after another for several years… once long ago during a very dark time in my life.  However, since my little SONshine has arrived I have had very few dark days.

I keep trying to focus on the positive.  I try to focus on my plan for the Seattle trip.  I try to focus on the peacefulness on having the daughter gone, no more fighting and tension filled air.  I try to focus on the fact that my Cable Guy, however “complacent” I consider him… is also steadfast and comforting in his safety and kindness.  I need to stay focused on these things.

I also have the best little man in the whole world.  With a fierce love for his momma, and a “wise beyond his years” advise almost daily.  He really is my special little gift.  I can’t wait to travel with him and write down his funny little thoughts and sayings. 🙂

Here is a quote I found today on The Great Discontent.  A website dedicated to artists.  This is a quote that I see my past self in.  This is a quote that, kind of, Woke me up…. Now this… is a quote worth putting on your bathroom mirror!

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’”

— Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Read Full Post »

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I’m getting older too…

Oh, mirror in the sky

What is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

The last “happy” photo taken with my daughter.
Moments later the Lanslide began….

Read Full Post »

Drama

Have never felt so completely and utterly helpless.  Thinking of sending the daughter to a residential treatment center for troubled girls.  She has such anger towards me. and is telling the most horrible lies! 😦  I want to tell the CG everything, but what if the drama pushes him away? I’m so lost and alone right now. 😦

Read Full Post »

More Parenting Fun….

 

My daughter has been challenging me since she was 2 years old!  And I thought life was tough then!  She is now  17… I have never felt such sadness and depression any other time in my life.  Some of the things she says to me, I don’t even have an  answer or comeback to!  How do they get so manipulative?  She thinks she knows everything and that I am just a bad/strict/mean mother!  Nobody else’s parents want to know where they are, who they are with, what they are doing, home at curfew,  oh, the list could go on.  It has been going on for y e a r s . . .  I have laid down every punishment.  NOTHING matters to her.  She plays the blame game.  She is never responsible for her actions.  It is ALWAYS my fault. I have cried so many nights.  Now I have almost removed myself from the situation.  I make sure she knows I love her, but she is still so hurtful & hateful when I catch her breaking the rules or lying about something and have to punish her. I try to explain why things are the way they are but she never listens, it is just me being a horrible mother.   I just want some respect and consideration.  I am NOT a strict parent.  I just want her to be safe.

Last night it got so bad between my daughter and I that it became physical and she bit my arm (drew blood).  My poor sweet 8-year-old son witnessed it all.  The only reason she is still in my home is because she has no where else to go, he dad has not contacted her since she was 12 (major part of her problem… abandonment issues), and she babysits when I work 3 nights a week.  But now she has even stopped doing that, leaving my son to his own devices and not even staying home when I am gone! I am at my wit’s end.  She will be 18 in Sept, but still has another year of HS… Ugh! How am I going to do this for another year?

I am at a loss….  I am defeated.

Read Full Post »

The Life and Times of Nathan Badley...

just like Moby Dick, but shorter and less whale-oriented.

living in stigma

Mental illness stigma and connection with those struggling with chronic pain

Tripping Through Treacle

Stumbling my way through life with Multiple Sclerosis

JUST AROUND THE BEND

My Journey with Chronic Illness...

AROUND THE BEND

Living with an invisible illness

Intentional Existence

Crafting the lives we want, NOW!

Courage Coaching

HELPING YOU TAKE THAT FIRST STEP

Adrenal Fatigue & Hypothyroidism study

Conducted by an international team of homeopaths

ultimatemindsettoday

A great WordPress.com site

Attila Ovari

Loving Life and Inspiring Others

Easy Peasy All-in-One Homeschool

A complete, free online Christian homeschool curriculum for your family and mine

A Slice of Bree

The blog of Bree Hoskin, a writer with a passion for pop culture and dance floors

No More Words

Writings, in categories of Misc & Other, from your friend Xavier F Smith

Blase'

My heart, mind and soul...transcribed!

Scribe

News You Can Use from The Writers' League of Texas

Nail Your Novel

Nail Your Novel - Writing, publishing and self-publishing advice from a bestselling ghostwriter and book doctor

Roz Morris, author

'A unique voice rising in the literary scene'

My Memories of a Future Life

My Memories of a Future Life - a critically acclaimed novel by Roz Morris. And home of The Undercover Soundtrack

Creative Writing with the Crimson League

Creative Writing Tips and Authorial Support from Fantasy Writer Victoria Grefer