Tag Archives: parenting
So as if my own mental problems weren’t crippling enough…I got a call from my kid’s teacher yesterday informing me there was an arm wrestling incident in the cafeteria and my daughter was one of the ringleaders, or well, participants. She was viewed doing it, then lied to the teacher and started bawling and denying, so the teacher had to leave her alone for 5 minutes to calm down. Only then did Spook fess up but she started crying some more about being a follower and she can’t help herself. She was just going along because devil girl J told her she would if she was really her friend. (Um, could there be a better example of a follower than my daughter?)
The teacher was disturbed, saying that it seems Spook is overwhelmed with too many thoughts all at once and thus it makes it hard for her to concentrate, focus, and perform accordingly as well as make good choices.
SOUND FAMILIAR, ANYONE????
I had been expecting a call because Spook told me the other day a boy wanted to kiss her during lunch hour and I told her…you will get in trouble. She said she didn’t care and at this point, I’ve gone school of hard knocks with parenting. But ARM WRESTLING??? Kids rough house, sure, but the way the teacher made it sound this was some major episode. And I’ve seen my daughter at work with the emotional manipulation when she’s caught doing something wrong. She will bring up something that happened 4 years ago to draw attention away from her wrong doing and paint herself as a victim. I wish I were making this up, but I even asked my uber critital-and grandchild coddling mother- about this behavior in Spook and she, too, has seen it. That’s no small deal, my mom admitting I’m not being a critical monster and my child has some…issues.
I was honestly at a loss what to say. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed as is lately and while Spook’s got some stuff going on, for the most part, until this year, it rarely went on at school. Now the school is seeing the behaviors and instead of suggesting counseling or what not, when i said I didn’t know what to do….the teacher said, “What do you do…” UM…Not helpful.
So I steeled myself for dealing with Spook when she got home, which these days means, turning on the sound recorder on the phone, because she is a ticking time bomb when told no or caught doing wrong. And I wasn’t wrong. She went OFF. I tried to talk to her, empathize (without condoning her behavior), tell her we’re a lot alike in that we have trouble processing too much at once and we need to be besties as a support system….I may as well have been talking to a wall. She just blew me off, blamed it all on J and “I’m a follower, I can’t help it”, then when she asked for a cookie…and I said have some fresh watermelon instead, you’re wound up enough…
She started hitting me, snarling, trying to break the computer, the phone. She was like a rabid animal, but she was also….smiling while doing all this. And all I could do was hold her off with an arm and try to talk calmly but when she went after the cat’s throat, I grabbed the phone and threatened to call 911. I am no longer joking, I fear my child when she gets like that. And she started saying nooo, don’t call the police…but kept snarling…She knows she is doing wrong. What I can’t discern is if she simply doesn’t care or if it’s like much of my aggressive behavior (before mood stabilizers) where it just sort of had to burn itself out before it passed and after it passed I felt exhausted and vulnerable and disgusted with myself…
She eventually calmed down but there was no remorse on her part. She said sorry, but it was as hollow as an apology could be. And she snuck a cookie behind my back and then tried to lie about it but ha, she kissed me and I could smell the mint on her breath. She has no compulsion about lying. And every time, it’s “Fine, I lied, but you told me no and it makes me mad when you tell me no.”
My stomach ache just got worse after that incident, plus knowing R was going to stop by…But at least she calmed down. Her attitude didn’t improve much, she kept putting her feet up on my chair and yanking my hair then when I said ouch, please stop, she got indignant like it was my fault for not having a scalp made of cast iron. How she can go from such a sweet kid to such a…meanie so quick is baffling but then again, I’ve seen it in myself so I can’t throw stones. Difference is, and it’s a big one for me- I have ALWAYS felt bad after any of my tirades. She has no guilt and I do find that disturbing. I am not expecting her to grasp full blown grown up guilt but even at 8, there should be some inkling of conscience, especially when causing someone else pain physically or emotionally, and she has none. Her only sympathy is for herself.
It pains me to admit this. I wish I was just a petty mentally trashed parent making her kid look bad to absolve myself of whatever but others see this behavior in her, so it isn’t just me. I may not be parent number one worldwide, but my kid has some issues going on that aren’t my fault. Whether it’s ADHD or bipolar or hell, it could be bipolar with the attentiion deficit as a secondary…But she’s only 8 and the professionals won’t label her anything other than ADHd,if that. It doesn’t excuse me having to live in fear that my 8 year old is going to physically attack me, and our belongings, on a daily basis. So first thing today i called the pediatrician’s office and left a note for the nurse about the ADHD paperwork and what the teacher said about Spook’s issues with focus. They have got to do something to help her, and help me. There is no planet in which a child hitting the parent is acceptable.
I sort of got lucky last night inasmuch as R didn’t stay more than ten minutes, he stopped to give me money for gas and such so I can continue to do his bidding at the shop. And I tried ten different ways to tell him I can’t keep this up and he just blew right by me, telling me what a big help I am, and I am going to end up with a better car and blah blah blah…And there he is talking about working 13 hours a day, plus spending two hours a night helping family and friends with their broken stuff and he’s worn down so I guess I didn’t have the gall to tell him about my impending breakdown. Even if I did, he’d dismiss me. I tried to talk to him about Spook’s behavior, seeking advice from a fellow parent, but he blew that off, too. So the question is…If he cares so little about me except as someone to do his bidding…why am i so loyal as to basically wear myself to the bone and end up hospitalized?
Something’s got to give. I just hope it doesn’t result in my child being taken away because I can’t control her or me in a straightjacket because everyone around me can’t grasp that mental illness is as serious as physical illness. No one would fault me for needing a few days to recover from even an outpatient surgery like an appendectomy. Yet my brain is on overload, my health is being impacted, and I am made to feel like a lazy monster because I need to stop the world a few days and reboot.
My hatred of the world is metastasizing as quickly as my mind is disintegrating. The world deserves it, though. I don’t.Trying your hardest should not result in being broken down and destroyed psychologically. It just shouldn’t.
It was inevitable after so many consecutive days in the dish being the functional person I am expected to be. It’s why I could never hold a job for more than a few months at a time, even part time, because faking it and the anxiety just tap me out.
Had a decent run, 4 days or so I didn’t feel like dying.
Today has been awful. Instead of running errands while my kid was at church, I lolled in bed til 11 am. Then I got up and took my meds and…lost the lottery and got very ill with neausea and stomach cramps and bathroom trips.
I’d like to say it got better but my mood went Splat when all the kids started bullying Spook (or so she claims, I witnessed nothing other than some mouthing off about who was going to play with who and of course, the tweens and teens are always gonna ditch the 8 year old, cruel but true.) I started feeling incompetent as a parent. My mood went splat, and the dark thoughts crept in and are still hanging around.
I was even gonna let my kid have a friend sleepover as a before back to school treat. Instead that girl, who is ten, fell victim to all the rumors the older girls were saying (we have lice, fleas, bedbugs, etc) and suddenly she had to go home. Odd how she spent 7 nights here over the summer with no complaint about any of that shit but the second a teenager she wants to fit in with says it…Spook and I go under the bus.
By then all the drama had given my a migraine complete with more nausea to go with my lingering med nausea and I was grateful the girl went home. Enough with the drama and stress.
Early bedtime tonight. Brain needs a reboot and hopefully tomorrow will be better. As long as R doesn’t beckon and expect me to feign this functionality thing again. I can feel the seasonal affective disorder settling in even if the psych professionals say it doesn’t start this soon. Every August for years since having my kid, I’ve warned the docs the meds need tweaked cos I could feel the seasonal splat coming (my knees start aching when there’s an abrupt weather shift and 98 degrees one week down to the sixties the next week…Yeah, knee ache city.) Every year I warn them, every year they ignore me until October when it’s too late because I’m already half way down the rabbit hole.
I am gonna try to advocate for myself when I see nurse doctor next. But if the splat decline keeps going, I may well be a basketcase by then and all this progress made on Trintellix will have been undone because others expect more of me than I can safely give without it costing me tremendously psychiatrically.
Fort Blankie time as soon as I tuck in the spawn. Sometimes when your mind gets this blackened..all you can do is retreat and reboot and hope it’s a cyclothymic low that will shift upward after some rest.
I can’t spend much more time with a brain sending me such bleak self abusive thoughts. That sadist Fifty Shades of Grey character could learn a few things about cruelty and torture from my brain.