For Christmas that year my Mother graciously gave us a family trip to Disney World. I was so excited. The first time the girls went they were to young to remember. I really felt like we would have a great family trip. Unfortunately being off her meds not very long made the trip unbearable. We tried our best to cater to each child's needs. I went with Natalie and my husband took Natasha. The last day we were there. I had a security guard come up to me and ask if this is my child. "Yes, she is with her father." So what happened is. She through a major fit my husband had to carry her kicking and screaming. So security stopped him and accused him of kidnapping. So when they found me they just needed me to verify his story. They sent us on our way. To me it was just another humiliating thing she did. To him he was so humiliated and she went over the line in his eyes. For a very long time this one incident fractured her and her fathers relationship. It took years to repair the damage that was done.
I felt I was the only one fighting now he would help me because she was to strong and I physically couldn't deal with her. He was just the enforcer no affection for her left. Our relationship was strained because neither of us knew what to do to make her happy. He had two options. First enforce every rule and restrain her use tough love. Second just let her be let her do what she wants as long as she doesn't hurt herself or someone else. I chose the second most of the time because I did not have the will power to get into altercations everyday with her. I just accepted her for who she was. Even if I lost my family in the process.
Even till this day the hair pulling continues. It started with her eyelashes. Then on the day of the family picture her eyebrows. It continued to the hair on her head. I goes away for years at a time , but always resurfaces. I school she struggled during middle school she never got above a 2nd grade reading level. Her comprehension level was very low. She also had very little to no short term memory. I always thought I would love to look inside that head of hers. What a struggle she must be fighting.
Monday, January 17, 2011
First diagnosis
The summer before 6th grade was a very big struggle for her. She always had sensory issues and OCD tendencies, along with her fits. It was a summer day and I was looking at her trying to figure out what was going on in her mind. I noticed something, or something that was missing. My 10 year old daughter pulled all of her eyelashes out. I was horrified, shocked, and scared. I knew now this is not normal, she was not getting better, and it was time to act. She explained to me she was nervous and she was making wishes on them. I found this to be a very odd response. Why would she do this to herself.
I set up a doctors appointment. We talked and she decided this was anxiety and put her on Zoloft. At the time Zoloft seemed to help her not pull out her eyelashes. When she took it I saw another side even more terrifying then before she was on meds. Late one night she had a major hissy fit, about what I don't even remember. She was kicking her wall nothing uncommon there. I heard a smash she put her foot on purpose through her window and sliced her ankle. So the next day I brought her back to the doctor. I came to find out rage can be a side effect of the drug. She pulled her off it and recommended a mental illness doctor.
Our first appointment the doctor diagnosed her with bipolar. Gave her lithium and sent her on her way. The months that followed were great. She was well mannered and was able to concentrate better. I believed we had the right diagnosis and everything would be fine. After 3 months I saw a major change in her. She was no longer a sweet and eccentric child. She became a zombie. She found pleasure in nothing and just went through the motions of living. Overall the doctor was very impressed with her progress. I noticed her fears were growing she was telling me she saw things and heard voices. The doctor wrote that off with her being to young which I could understand.
Four months into her meds she had a major fight with her Step-father "which she knew as her only father." She had a fight with her Dad. She went upstairs and wrote on her cork board. Devil Dad, Devil Dad over and over again. Then she drew a picture of out family with pins stabbed in our hearts. I was terrified was this just bipolar symptom, or something else. I let her calm down then talked to her. She explained to me she hates the meds when she take them the pictures in her mind are clear. She did not remember writing any of the things she wrote. She just remembered someone telling her to do it. As a mother I was shocked and confused where do we go from here. I looked into her eyes and could see the fear in her eyes. It wasn't just a kid trying to get out of taking medicine. She was clearly terrified of what was going on in her head. I decided with out doctors advice I took her off meds completely. I was willing to have her as she is not just a shell of what the meds left me. It would be three more years until she saw another doctor.
I set up a doctors appointment. We talked and she decided this was anxiety and put her on Zoloft. At the time Zoloft seemed to help her not pull out her eyelashes. When she took it I saw another side even more terrifying then before she was on meds. Late one night she had a major hissy fit, about what I don't even remember. She was kicking her wall nothing uncommon there. I heard a smash she put her foot on purpose through her window and sliced her ankle. So the next day I brought her back to the doctor. I came to find out rage can be a side effect of the drug. She pulled her off it and recommended a mental illness doctor.
Our first appointment the doctor diagnosed her with bipolar. Gave her lithium and sent her on her way. The months that followed were great. She was well mannered and was able to concentrate better. I believed we had the right diagnosis and everything would be fine. After 3 months I saw a major change in her. She was no longer a sweet and eccentric child. She became a zombie. She found pleasure in nothing and just went through the motions of living. Overall the doctor was very impressed with her progress. I noticed her fears were growing she was telling me she saw things and heard voices. The doctor wrote that off with her being to young which I could understand.
Four months into her meds she had a major fight with her Step-father "which she knew as her only father." She had a fight with her Dad. She went upstairs and wrote on her cork board. Devil Dad, Devil Dad over and over again. Then she drew a picture of out family with pins stabbed in our hearts. I was terrified was this just bipolar symptom, or something else. I let her calm down then talked to her. She explained to me she hates the meds when she take them the pictures in her mind are clear. She did not remember writing any of the things she wrote. She just remembered someone telling her to do it. As a mother I was shocked and confused where do we go from here. I looked into her eyes and could see the fear in her eyes. It wasn't just a kid trying to get out of taking medicine. She was clearly terrified of what was going on in her head. I decided with out doctors advice I took her off meds completely. I was willing to have her as she is not just a shell of what the meds left me. It would be three more years until she saw another doctor.
The early years
The one advantage I had in this fight was my other daughter Natalie. One one hand I had Natalie well mannered and kind. On the other was Natasha a sweet, but a very temperamental child. They were twins so how could they be such polar opposites. I did everything right from the beginning. I never smoked or drank during my pregnancy with them. They had a low birth weight, but other then that perfect. In there young years they loved each other so much. Natalie was the caregiver and thinking she was the Mom most of time. Natasha was all about herself and what made her happy. Natalie had know issues giving in to make her sister happy.
After kindergarten was done they were off to a new school. I felt is was a fresh start with all new teachers. That I hoped were not going to judge me like the other school teachers did. Natasha's temperament continued. As first grade progressed It was next to impossible for her and I to do homework. Doing a simple problem 2+2 was next to impossible for her. I just couldn't get why is it not clicking for her. By mid-term the teachers and I sat down to discuss what a hard time she was having. I supported the tests they suggested. So by the end of the year she went through a batter of academic skills test. I remember sitting down and the counselor said "in all my thirty years doing this I never met anyone like her." Which amused me, she was unique. She went on to say. "She cooperated very well, however when I was done she asked how me how does this apply to my life." We were both floored because how could a 7 year old come up with a response like that. She was put onto individual tutoring sessions because she was clearly not understanding the work. The conclusion we came up with how she went through the last 3 years of school with out any noticing is because. Her sister was quiet, however her sister was finding her name tag and helping her with her work. She never had to try hard with her sister around.
Through her elementary years she was deemed as a sweet and hard working child at school. Those years are the years I told myself as long as her fits do not effect school I will not medicate her. At school she was struggling to say the least, but thriving socially. At home it was a nightmare. Her fits were off the charts. She would not stay in time out. She would act as if there was no consequences to her actions. She could repeat the same thing over and over and expect different results. My mother always said " you were no treat when you were her age either." I remember growing up I was from a divorced home. At the time I never cared much for either of my step-parents. I did act out I would not deny this. One thing I would point out to my mother. I would not hit you. I would not tell you I hated you. I knew the consequences of my actions I would just choose to disobey even though I knew what followed. It never got to the point I had to be restrained for hours at a time. My child was out of control. I remember the abuse I suffered from just a eight year old. She would hit me do hard I thought for sure one time she broke my arm. She was extremely strong much stronger then her sister. Those early years I just dealt with it best I could. She was still growing who knows she may out grow this. It helped to see her twin how kind and caring she was. I felt I clearly was raising them right look at Natalie. This would eventually get better. I always told myself " I can deal with this as long as it doesn't effect school.
After kindergarten was done they were off to a new school. I felt is was a fresh start with all new teachers. That I hoped were not going to judge me like the other school teachers did. Natasha's temperament continued. As first grade progressed It was next to impossible for her and I to do homework. Doing a simple problem 2+2 was next to impossible for her. I just couldn't get why is it not clicking for her. By mid-term the teachers and I sat down to discuss what a hard time she was having. I supported the tests they suggested. So by the end of the year she went through a batter of academic skills test. I remember sitting down and the counselor said "in all my thirty years doing this I never met anyone like her." Which amused me, she was unique. She went on to say. "She cooperated very well, however when I was done she asked how me how does this apply to my life." We were both floored because how could a 7 year old come up with a response like that. She was put onto individual tutoring sessions because she was clearly not understanding the work. The conclusion we came up with how she went through the last 3 years of school with out any noticing is because. Her sister was quiet, however her sister was finding her name tag and helping her with her work. She never had to try hard with her sister around.
Through her elementary years she was deemed as a sweet and hard working child at school. Those years are the years I told myself as long as her fits do not effect school I will not medicate her. At school she was struggling to say the least, but thriving socially. At home it was a nightmare. Her fits were off the charts. She would not stay in time out. She would act as if there was no consequences to her actions. She could repeat the same thing over and over and expect different results. My mother always said " you were no treat when you were her age either." I remember growing up I was from a divorced home. At the time I never cared much for either of my step-parents. I did act out I would not deny this. One thing I would point out to my mother. I would not hit you. I would not tell you I hated you. I knew the consequences of my actions I would just choose to disobey even though I knew what followed. It never got to the point I had to be restrained for hours at a time. My child was out of control. I remember the abuse I suffered from just a eight year old. She would hit me do hard I thought for sure one time she broke my arm. She was extremely strong much stronger then her sister. Those early years I just dealt with it best I could. She was still growing who knows she may out grow this. It helped to see her twin how kind and caring she was. I felt I clearly was raising them right look at Natalie. This would eventually get better. I always told myself " I can deal with this as long as it doesn't effect school.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The fight begins then comes to a standstill
I threw myself into research.I read any book I could find on behavioral issues. The one I remember the most was called a "Strong Willed Child." It was about how any behavioral issue could be fixed. I felt the discipline techniques were outdated. I worked off of what that books message was and tried to adapt it to the modern world. So I started by removing her from the situations and time outs. None of the standard methods of discipline worked on her. I really got sick of everyone say " you need to give her a slap on the butt." Which I also tried and that did not work either. When you are a young parent the judging people cast on you is so overwhelming. You end up questioning everything you do and who you really are. When your a parent your judged for everything you do.
The day I remember most is when I received a knock on the door from protective services. The women was young and very judgemental. This was the day we just got fresh carpet layed. So my children's room had everything shoved in it. Her words were "do they ever have beds in there room." "No I leave a piano in the middle of there room all the time." I wanted to say. She set-up a meeting with us at her office to explain our situation. She said we needs parenting classes and accused us of beating our child over spilled milk. The school called her. I felt completely alone. On one hand I had my parents and friends judging me because of my daughters temper. Now I had the school saying I was beating my kids. So I was damned if I do and damned if I don't. The damage between the school and I was done. I was in a battle to defend myself and husband.
One month later we received another knock on the door. It was another protective service worker, however she was older. She walked into our house with a open mind. After talking to her for twenty minutes. She cleared our family of any wrong doing and left. I felt vindicated after months of doubt. I felt in control of my life again. So I could continue my fight without the threat of having my kids taken away. I was in charge again and I was not going rest until I had answers.
The day I remember most is when I received a knock on the door from protective services. The women was young and very judgemental. This was the day we just got fresh carpet layed. So my children's room had everything shoved in it. Her words were "do they ever have beds in there room." "No I leave a piano in the middle of there room all the time." I wanted to say. She set-up a meeting with us at her office to explain our situation. She said we needs parenting classes and accused us of beating our child over spilled milk. The school called her. I felt completely alone. On one hand I had my parents and friends judging me because of my daughters temper. Now I had the school saying I was beating my kids. So I was damned if I do and damned if I don't. The damage between the school and I was done. I was in a battle to defend myself and husband.
One month later we received another knock on the door. It was another protective service worker, however she was older. She walked into our house with a open mind. After talking to her for twenty minutes. She cleared our family of any wrong doing and left. I felt vindicated after months of doubt. I felt in control of my life again. So I could continue my fight without the threat of having my kids taken away. I was in charge again and I was not going rest until I had answers.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
A parent's perspective on mental illness
When I was seventeen and was told I was having twins. I was shocked at best. I decided to accept this reality and begin a new and frightening life. I had my twin girls at eighteen just out of high school. There father was never there. So it was me and my small support system. Looking back now I do not remember much from those first few years. Who would at that age. I was just trying to make a life for my girls and I. This blog is not about being a single Mom and overcoming the odds. This blog about adolescent mental illness. Finding ways to deal with that diagnosis. Ways to search for answers and never giving up.
From the age my daughter was five I knew something was not right " I hate to use the word normal."
I remember picking up the twins at preschool. My daughter threw a colossal fit in the van. She was known for tantrums so this was not uncommon. We were half way into the drive and she wanted something at school so bad. She opened the Van door and tried to get out. By God's grace I just approached a stop light. The door slammed on her legs and she was dangling upsidedown. Scared and embarrassed I stopped the car in the middle of the road got out and secured her again. I was only a block from home. I ran in the house shut the door and cried. I realized that day. This child had no concept of consequence. She was willing to risk her life for a toy. I knew from that day forward something was wrong inside that head of hers. This was the day my fight for her began.
From the age my daughter was five I knew something was not right " I hate to use the word normal."
I remember picking up the twins at preschool. My daughter threw a colossal fit in the van. She was known for tantrums so this was not uncommon. We were half way into the drive and she wanted something at school so bad. She opened the Van door and tried to get out. By God's grace I just approached a stop light. The door slammed on her legs and she was dangling upsidedown. Scared and embarrassed I stopped the car in the middle of the road got out and secured her again. I was only a block from home. I ran in the house shut the door and cried. I realized that day. This child had no concept of consequence. She was willing to risk her life for a toy. I knew from that day forward something was wrong inside that head of hers. This was the day my fight for her began.
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