In those two years before I accepted her illness. I gave up in a way. I was the one pulling in the large salary. So I was never home and if I was I was sleeping. I felt my Husband was home so she was his problem. Little did I know how fractured my husband and her relationship was. He also gave up he just let her do what ever also. So as anyone could imagine. Our house had two fifteen year old who were constantly at war with each other. Then there was a little brother ten years difference witnessing all of this. A mother who was always working and when I was home I was always pissed off. A husband that did his best he knew how.
This continued threw the Summer until my hours at work drastically changed. The company decided there managers needed to spend more time with there families so we went down to four days. This was the first time in five years I was forced to be home. I was forced to see what my family had turned into. I saw a very spoiled Natalie that only cared about what she wore. She would also loose her temper without notice and turn on her sister. I saw a Husband so exhausted his only retreat was going on the computer to get a break from it all. I saw Tasha running the house mostly using fear as her guide. Knowing how to manipulate everyone around her. The saddest of all I saw my four year old son. So isolated day after day. He would rather play all day in his room then bother with anyone else. I also noticed he was not thriving. He did not recognize letters or numbers. I knew him going into school the following year this would be a issue. I put all of my effort into him. He was my focus. The girls were to far gone to help at that point.
Two months into my new schedule I remember driving to work and crying because I had to help Tasha. I was ready to ask for a personal leave because I could not work and help her at the same time. I tried my best at work but struggled to please new management. The week I decided to ask for a leave I lost my job. I went into a whole realm of depression. I worked there for thirteen years and to just be told sorry we don't want you anymore was devastating. I cried for one day and decided everything happens for a reason and this maybe Gods way of saying it's time to slow down.
My main focus was to make sure the kids had insurance. Tasha meds were one hundred dollars a month with insurance. With out over five hundred. I received insurance right away I could check that off my list. Next thing I had to apply for unemployment our income took not a hit but explosion. I was accepted within weeks of applying for that also. I knew my payout threw this company was going to be huge. So I knew I had at least a year to really focus on my family. Tasha also had to find a knew doctor. We had to go threw the county mental health office. This was a whole new thing she had to be diagnosed again. Go threw all of the tests again. At the time this seemed frustrating, but little did I know this was a blessing in disguise.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Two years of walking on egg shells
The next two years all just seemed to melt together. We were able eight months after the diagnosis to finally accept it. I again through myself into research. I read clinical books. Life stories of family members of people that had this illness.and also people that had schizophrenia. The more I read the more I saw my daughter in them. Most books were about adults and there struggles. Which was frustrating because know one was writing about adolescents. I know why that is now because no one wants to diagnose a child with such a scary illness. We continued to go to the same doctor for two years that first diagnosed her. We would walk in not say much and walk out with another 3 months of Geodon. I even started to question this because she had no visions no serious symptoms. She had a temper that was over the top. We learned to manage that the best we could.
This was the years her twin Natalie felt very isolated. She felt all of the attention was on her sister. We lived life walking on egg shells to please her sister. I did as much as I could at the time to make her sister feel special. We went shopping weekly and would have Mommy and Daughter days. Looking back I probably was trying to by her love. Unfortunately Natalie became very spoiled and felt she deserved things and didn't have to earn them. At the time I had a high paying job my husband stayed home. I was able to give the girls what ever they wanted. I felt like a human ATM machine.
This was also the time the twins father came back into there lives after being gone eleven years. My goal of letting him back was I felt he could understand Natasha. In the time I knew him I saw her in him. I felt she may really find a friend in him. At first it seemed to be going great, however he would only communicate with her via email. She was stuck in second grade reading level this was hard and frustrating for her. He pushed her so hard to be "normal" she cracked. The one time they met she became scared of him because he had no issue making her cry to though en her up.
The twin reunion with him lasted one year. In this time he attempted suicide and blamed me for trying to help him even though I was the one person he called during his attempt. He would never admit the kids were his. Regardless of a blood test we took when they were young. Natalie still had a need to see him so I let her go there for a month. What she described was completely a adult version of her sister. I believed he believed in his mind that they weren't his, that I was trying to get him back, and the worst of all he murdered three people. I knew from that point on he was dangerous and delusional and medicated him self with drugs. All ties were cut on that relationship. He did email Natalie once in a while asking when she was ready to start a knew life with him. Which was odd since she live her whole life with me. The twins have a half brother who they loved, however they knew to keep there sanity they had to just put hope in that they will see him some day again.
In those two years Tasha also had a boyfriend who she dated for one year. He was also in special education and said he accepted her chap stick in all. This ended when he tried to touch her chest she freaked out and dumped him. Her morals are a major part of her life which is a advantage when you fight this illness. She had fall outs more then normal with her friend because socially she only wanted to do what she wanted.
One of the down falls of meds is you may loose your passions. My daughter loved art her entire room was painted how ever she wanted it at the time. By the time she left her treatment center it was lost. She stilled liked it but never got her passion back. I love this quote from her doctor "If there was Geodon back then there would never be a Mozart of Picasso." This is so true the drug takes away those inhibitions and passions. It is sad however I would never take her off she is a dangerous person off them. My only hope is that she can find her way back because she is talented and has won awards in middle school for her art and has had it showcased. These days her walls are white again and crowded with the latest tween celebrity pics. No, more bright yellow sun coming up over her bed. No, more flowers that seemed to stretch over the base of her ceiling. I remember her room from top to bottom it was full of art. Just like her door at the treatment center. When she left treatment she took them off her door and threw them away just like her passions.
This was the years her twin Natalie felt very isolated. She felt all of the attention was on her sister. We lived life walking on egg shells to please her sister. I did as much as I could at the time to make her sister feel special. We went shopping weekly and would have Mommy and Daughter days. Looking back I probably was trying to by her love. Unfortunately Natalie became very spoiled and felt she deserved things and didn't have to earn them. At the time I had a high paying job my husband stayed home. I was able to give the girls what ever they wanted. I felt like a human ATM machine.
This was also the time the twins father came back into there lives after being gone eleven years. My goal of letting him back was I felt he could understand Natasha. In the time I knew him I saw her in him. I felt she may really find a friend in him. At first it seemed to be going great, however he would only communicate with her via email. She was stuck in second grade reading level this was hard and frustrating for her. He pushed her so hard to be "normal" she cracked. The one time they met she became scared of him because he had no issue making her cry to though en her up.
The twin reunion with him lasted one year. In this time he attempted suicide and blamed me for trying to help him even though I was the one person he called during his attempt. He would never admit the kids were his. Regardless of a blood test we took when they were young. Natalie still had a need to see him so I let her go there for a month. What she described was completely a adult version of her sister. I believed he believed in his mind that they weren't his, that I was trying to get him back, and the worst of all he murdered three people. I knew from that point on he was dangerous and delusional and medicated him self with drugs. All ties were cut on that relationship. He did email Natalie once in a while asking when she was ready to start a knew life with him. Which was odd since she live her whole life with me. The twins have a half brother who they loved, however they knew to keep there sanity they had to just put hope in that they will see him some day again.
In those two years Tasha also had a boyfriend who she dated for one year. He was also in special education and said he accepted her chap stick in all. This ended when he tried to touch her chest she freaked out and dumped him. Her morals are a major part of her life which is a advantage when you fight this illness. She had fall outs more then normal with her friend because socially she only wanted to do what she wanted.
One of the down falls of meds is you may loose your passions. My daughter loved art her entire room was painted how ever she wanted it at the time. By the time she left her treatment center it was lost. She stilled liked it but never got her passion back. I love this quote from her doctor "If there was Geodon back then there would never be a Mozart of Picasso." This is so true the drug takes away those inhibitions and passions. It is sad however I would never take her off she is a dangerous person off them. My only hope is that she can find her way back because she is talented and has won awards in middle school for her art and has had it showcased. These days her walls are white again and crowded with the latest tween celebrity pics. No, more bright yellow sun coming up over her bed. No, more flowers that seemed to stretch over the base of her ceiling. I remember her room from top to bottom it was full of art. Just like her door at the treatment center. When she left treatment she took them off her door and threw them away just like her passions.
Monday, January 17, 2011
When it all came apart
The three years off meds was a turbulent time for our family. It go to the point I just accepted her behavior and just lived with it. We did have a few discussions with the school on lies she was saying about us. That were brought up that concerned them. The school just wrote her off as a compulsive lier. When Tasha was interviewed by the school so was Natalie. Natalie's story was always told different. These event led to there being a wedge between the girls. Natalie resented her and how she acted. I knew something new was going on with the school because Natalie told me she was interviewed by a protective service worker. Dejavu here we go again was all I could think. We went down this road I can not do this again. The worker called me to set-up a time for the meeting. I made sure Chris was also home. Because he was the likely target her lies were directed at.
This time I was ready to defend myself and family. I was sick of her lies and if I had to. I would send her away for a while. I remember my anxiety when I opened the door. His first words were "what ever your about to tell me I believe you." shock ran through me he was not here to judge just help. He told me he believed without a doubt my thirteen year old was homicidal and suicidal. Leaning more to homicidal because of her arrogance. He was terrified of her and he wanted her to get help immediately. This was frightening to hear even though I knew that already. For once someone saw what I did it was such a relief. I took his advice, with the insurance I had this did not leave me with many choices.
I decided on a local organization unfortunately they kept cancelling my appointment because the doctor had a emergency. Two months went by since my visit and I was more terrified of her then before. I remember taking my newborn son with me to bed and hiding all of the knives because I had know ides what she was capable of. I remember her getting angry staring at the wall for hours and her eyes going black. This would happen all of the time. Yes, it was finally effecting school I had to act. One night she through a major fit she ended up in the hospital because that is what I was suppose to do if she was out of control. They were also scared of her and found her a room in a mental facility. She went in there angry, smelly, and a mess. She stopped taking care of her self physically and it got to the point I couldn't force her to bathe, eat, or make her go to school. Calling the police to make her go to school was getting very old.
She was at the facility for a week they put her in the younger children's group because that is where her mind was. She went back on medication. One I never heard of it was called Geodon. 100mg a day from this point forward. On our first visit she had her door decorated with her art work from top to bottom. She was bathed, eating, and clean. She had rules and followed them. She was a whole new kid in my eyes. The week she spent there she was diagnosed not with bipolar, but with schizophrenia. This diagnosis was bounced back in forth for two years though. Every ones reaction including doctor was you can't diagnose her so young. How can anyone be sure she just has a big imagination. My favorite courtesy of my mother. "you will find out she is just slow with a little bit of bipolar."
The next two years were rough. One thing I knew her vision and delusions were a bay. That was the important part the rest I could handle just like before. In those two years I never had her in counseling. The counselor said this probably won't help but we can try. Ya, I'm going hand over $100 a week for that diagnosis. So we continued the medication religiously. I knew one thing it was working I had no doubt about that.
She still had major struggles in middle school. She was bullied a lot I mean a lot. Most days she came home from school crying. She didn't help herself out she stood out more then anyone. With her sensory issues her clothing preferences were not in by any means. Her OCD tendencies were very known to the kids. She insisted on putting on chap stick ever fifteen minutes. Sometimes she was not care full and it made her look like she had a clown face. I learned to accept the strange things she did and focus on the more damaging things. She continued this medical course for the next two years until she was fifteen.
This time I was ready to defend myself and family. I was sick of her lies and if I had to. I would send her away for a while. I remember my anxiety when I opened the door. His first words were "what ever your about to tell me I believe you." shock ran through me he was not here to judge just help. He told me he believed without a doubt my thirteen year old was homicidal and suicidal. Leaning more to homicidal because of her arrogance. He was terrified of her and he wanted her to get help immediately. This was frightening to hear even though I knew that already. For once someone saw what I did it was such a relief. I took his advice, with the insurance I had this did not leave me with many choices.
I decided on a local organization unfortunately they kept cancelling my appointment because the doctor had a emergency. Two months went by since my visit and I was more terrified of her then before. I remember taking my newborn son with me to bed and hiding all of the knives because I had know ides what she was capable of. I remember her getting angry staring at the wall for hours and her eyes going black. This would happen all of the time. Yes, it was finally effecting school I had to act. One night she through a major fit she ended up in the hospital because that is what I was suppose to do if she was out of control. They were also scared of her and found her a room in a mental facility. She went in there angry, smelly, and a mess. She stopped taking care of her self physically and it got to the point I couldn't force her to bathe, eat, or make her go to school. Calling the police to make her go to school was getting very old.
She was at the facility for a week they put her in the younger children's group because that is where her mind was. She went back on medication. One I never heard of it was called Geodon. 100mg a day from this point forward. On our first visit she had her door decorated with her art work from top to bottom. She was bathed, eating, and clean. She had rules and followed them. She was a whole new kid in my eyes. The week she spent there she was diagnosed not with bipolar, but with schizophrenia. This diagnosis was bounced back in forth for two years though. Every ones reaction including doctor was you can't diagnose her so young. How can anyone be sure she just has a big imagination. My favorite courtesy of my mother. "you will find out she is just slow with a little bit of bipolar."
The next two years were rough. One thing I knew her vision and delusions were a bay. That was the important part the rest I could handle just like before. In those two years I never had her in counseling. The counselor said this probably won't help but we can try. Ya, I'm going hand over $100 a week for that diagnosis. So we continued the medication religiously. I knew one thing it was working I had no doubt about that.
She still had major struggles in middle school. She was bullied a lot I mean a lot. Most days she came home from school crying. She didn't help herself out she stood out more then anyone. With her sensory issues her clothing preferences were not in by any means. Her OCD tendencies were very known to the kids. She insisted on putting on chap stick ever fifteen minutes. Sometimes she was not care full and it made her look like she had a clown face. I learned to accept the strange things she did and focus on the more damaging things. She continued this medical course for the next two years until she was fifteen.
The happiest place on earth
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.
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.
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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