I don't talk about our daughter much. It's been just over 2 months since we placed her in residential treatment for attachment disorder. We've visited once, and are about to visit again. Visiting her is consecutive days of serious therapy that makes you feel like you've just vomited your soul. Can't wait to go back.
She's 12. My teeth are clenching even now, as we just had a phone call with her that makes me want to scream. I've sat here, looking at the screen, wondering how to come up with words that would convey how lovely and gifted and wonderful she truly is. But those aren't the words that I want to type. Or think. Those words make me want to laugh right now. Wouldn't it sound like I had enviable faith and hope and vision if I were to talk about how great she is despite our circumstances...? Sometimes I can do that, and do it with great sincerity. Now is not one of those times.
She's a force most people underestimate, even those who know her well. She has an ability to destroy viciously, and intentionally, all the while smiling and effortlessly convincing others her innocence is unquestionable. She's a hard kid to parent. Even now, from a distance, when I have few to no responsibilities, still it's hard.
For so long our lives have been directed by the sick, twisted dance of dealing with her disorder. Surviving each day meant something different for each of us. I was required to wear thick, thick armor at all times around her. Twenty four hours a day, every day, and never ever let down my guard or slip up. If I did, she took advantage in any way she could. She was constantly looking to hurt me, to drive me away, to rid herself of me in any way she could. Any weakness or misstep or mistake on my part was cause for her celebration. She can admit that now, whereas before she wouldn't.
It's still the same, even now, though.
I am hopeful that she'll be helped by the people who are caring for her. They're amazing individuals, with more talent and love and dedication than I've ever before seen in a group of people.
Sometimes I'll go off on some tangent when I'm talking to my mom on the phone and she'll say, "Um... what's your point?"
Are we at that part of this post? I guess my point is that I've put off writing about her at all because I couldn't do it in a way that didn't sound like this. But this is what it is, pretty or not, and I want to be genuine. So here.
(Now, go feel up your boobs and comment on the post below, please. Goals are important, y'all , and ours is 30 this month.)
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Your Comments
As I told Gina by email, if you think you know someone with this check radkids.org and look at the signs and symptoms page. GIna actually describes 'triangulation' in her comment, where the kids cannot handle being close to one person without simultaneously pushing others (like a mom figure) away. The kid's tactics are often subtle, masking a very real violence, as in our case.
I really admire your courage, both for doing what's right for your daughter (and your family) even though it "makes you feel like you've just vomited your soul", and for being so honest and open about it. Maybe someone, like Gina's niece, will be helped because of your honesty.
My nephew has a similar disorder and I've seen how hard it can be on a family. Fortunately, at 14 he's doing much better. He never had to go to a facility like your daughter, but he's been in counseling for several years (since threatening to take a gun to school & kill all the bullies). I wish that he had a relationship with God, and your daughter at least has that example from you in her life. God bless you and your family.
It's so brave of you to write about this. But it's catharctic (if that is how you spell it) at the same time isn't it!? Especially when you find people through your opening up that are dealing with it too.
I have no idea what you're going through except what you've written. It terrifies me. It makes me pray for all of you...so keep mentioning it!
It would be great if you could remind us just before you go on the next visit so you could have as many people praying for that girl and for your family as you can. Even though God hears just one prayer, there's power in that quantity thing!
{{hug}}
Christie
You know reading through the whole post, the thing that stuck with me was the title. My Daughter. That in it self says so much. I lived with my Dad's wife through my teenage years and she never meant it when she referred to me as her daughter. To have the whole love of a mother makes such a huge difference. It could be worse ...
Please, try to stop worrying about how you should feel, how you 'should' write, or how you should think where she is concerned. You have a lot of healing to do too and to deny yourself that because you 'shouldn't' need it would be unfair to everyone..especially you.
I applaud you for being real in this post. For genuinely sharing a tiny part of the pain. I bet it can become completely overwhelming if you let it. You are fighting a brave fight..for her, for yourself and for the rest of your dear family.
You are in my prayers.
I am unfamiliar with this disorder. I am sorry this is a struggle you are to bear. And I appreciate your genuiness... So when do you visit her? Or will that be awhile.
{{hugs}}