Facing my fears...

Apparently, the girl has been talking to her father about spending next school year with him.
He's been talking to her about taking a class with him at a community college, to help her adapt to a college environment. He says that this way she can practice with him right there. He still hasn't discussed a word of this with me. He's only talking to her about it.

When she was talking to me about it she told me she needs to start detaching from me anyway. She said she has separation issues, and this might be good for her. Those sound to me like his words, and they make me mad as hell.

I have to admit, I'm kind of crushed, on top of being angry and scared.
The girl is getting ready to graduate, and she's turning 17. She's almost an adult. I'm not ready.
Partly, I'm worried about her safety. After the incident that caused another blog to be born, I'm terrified of what might happen. What if she still doesn't feel like she can ask for help? What if she still feels pushed to the side? What if he still won't take her seriously? What if she hurts herself? I'm worried that the other teen in the house will still get away with mistreating her. I'm worried that her father won't let her be who she is, but will try to make her be what he sees as normal. How will he handle it if she freezes? Will he help her get through, or will he humiliate her? If she cuts, will he make sure she's safe? Or will he make her feel like it's a failure?

It's not just those things, though. I feel like I'm losing her. It was her and me against the world for so long, and now she's going to go live with the person who repeatedly broke her heart, broke his promises, and wasn't there when she needed him. I can't trust him to take care of her, emotionally. I know he loves her, but he doesn't want to understand what her issues are.

So here's my problem - what if they're right? Maybe she really is too attached to me. Maybe she does need to do this transition, so that she's ready to go away to college next year. Maybe I have no idea how to prep her for the next phase of her life.

I feel absolutely heartsick. I will miss her more than I've ever missed anyone. More than I want to be right though, I want her to be happy. I want her to be a success - what ever that means to her. I want her to feel confident and competent. I want her to have a good life.

Getting ready to graduate...

So after months of dragging her feet and procrastinating any way possible, the girl came to me and said "I have a plan that will have me finished with high school soon."
YAY!!!
She working on Chemistry, Calculus, and Economics.
I love it when she gets into her studies. When she's motivated, she's a powerhouse. It's amazing to watch. She gets so much more motivated when she comes up with her own plan. I'm so excited to see where she takes the remainder of her studies.

In other news, some superficial cutting about a month ago. Nothing really deep, and not as often as it had been, but she does still occasionally cut. It worries me, but I know it's hard to stop completely.

Raising a teenager

Raising teenagers is hard. I mean, really hard. They look like adults, and sometimes they sound like them. 

They are not adults. 

When I ask the girl a question I'm still likely to hear "I don't know" as an answer. But it will come from above my head because she's taller than I am. 

When she's sick she still wants me to rub her back and hold her in my arms - but sometimes her breasts get in the way. 

She calls me Momma and holds my hand in the grocery store. I glare at the people who give us funny looks because I don't want her to get too self-conscious to continue. 

Sometimes I look at her and wonder who the hell this almost-woman is, and where did my little girl go. Then she gives me one of her now rare smiles, and her dimples appear for a moment, and I see the little girl briefly. 

There are times my heart breaks because she's just so beautiful, and times when all I can see in her are my own flaws. 

I want her to travel, to see the world, to study whatever makes her happiest. I want her to fall in love, build a life, feel fulfilled. 

I wish I could protect her from heartbreak, from injury, from making stupid mistakes. 

Raising a teenager is hard. I can't imagine not doing it. 

Two years

Yesterday was 2 years since the girl's suicide attempt. So much has happened since then.
When I brought the girl back home with me after the nightmare of those first 6 weeks, I didn't have any idea what was going to happen. I was so afraid - afraid she would try again, afraid she would never completely be herself again, afraid I would never see her happy again. I was just so afraid.

And when her therapist told me she was going to discharge her because she wasn't making any progress, I was angry. "Her treatment isn't effective, so we're not going to treat her at all any more." What? No one would say that to a cancer patient! This has just as much potential to be fatal!
And when therapist after therapist failed to grasp Social Anxiety Disorder, I felt like there was no place to turn.

Family members railed against homeschooling her, convinced she just had to learn to deal with things. (That really hurt. Not any more - now I stay away from those people as much as I can.)

After taking a class from the wonderful people at NAMI, I finally began to understand mental illness better, hers and mine. I learned new ways to fight for her, and how to accept things that scared me.

I saw my first glimmer of hope 2 months after she returned. A dog came into her life. That dog helped the girl finally start clawing her way back from the darkness. When that dog got sick and died, I was afraid the girl would, too. She didn't.

The girl is strong. She's a fighter. Recently, she tried to go back to public school. She wants to go to prom. It didn't work, but we're not giving up. Our new GP is running a bunch of tests. She said that certain medical issues can exacerbate mental illness, so she's checking for those things. We're looking for yet another new therapist.

Does the girl still cut? Yes. Cutting is an addiction. It's hard to stop. Does it scare me? Absolutely. But she's not suicidal. She has plans for the future, and we need to get this all figured out so she can achieve her goals. We're still working hard at getting the issues under control.
At least we know what the issues are. At least she's working with me. This will be a lifelong struggle, but she's equal to the task.

It's been 2 years. Last night, after I tucked her little sister into bed, the girl came in and grinned sheepishly at me. She felt silly, but she asked me to tuck her in, too. We snuggled and giggled for several minutes, and she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her lips.

To school, or not to school

The girl is thinking about returning to public school, so we made an appointment to meet with the principal of our local high school. We made a plan for easing her back in. We talked about part-time classes, and moving to full-time. We did the paperwork, and made sure her vaccines were current. We were ready.

And then time came to go. We walked into the school together so she could take the placement test for the classes she was going to take. The halls were full of students.
Then she froze. She got almost to the school office. Then she panicked. She went white as a ghost, eyes wide, hyperventilating. I asked her if she needed a minute and she nodded. Then she started to shake. I was talking to her the whole time, but she didn't register what I was saying. She couldn't move. Tears poured down her face, but she didn't seem aware of them.

In the past, I've forced her through situations like this. They never went well. This time I directed her to a seat. I spoke to the woman in the office, and let her know what was going on. We spent about 45 minutes in the lobby, trying to get her panic under control.

In the end we decided to try again another time. Walking out of the school, she did her best to keep from sobbing, but it wasn't easy. She felt like a failure. She was so disappointed in herself.
I told her I was proud of her. She looked at me like I was crazy, but I explained that even though she wasn't entirely successful, she got further than last time. She snorted at me, and I bought her a hot chocolate.
Another bit of progress - we were actually able to talk about it. Not just eye-rolling and shoulder-shrugging. An honest to goodness conversation. She told me that when she gets into a panic like that she can't really process what people are saying to her. She feels like her brain just shuts down. She finds it mortifying.

So she's still a homeschooler. We'll try again, I'm sure. Maybe next time she can do it.
But if she can't, she can't. We'll deal with it when it comes.

Summer

Self harming is an addiction. If you've never experienced it, it might be hard to imagine. But if you have, then you know. 

Cutters, sex addicts, alcoholics - even if you learn to control it, it never totally goes away. 

About two weeks into her summer, she started telling me she wanted to come home. She didn't want me to talk to her dad about it though. She was worried about hurting his feelings. I was concerned, but I try to respect her wishes. 

Sometimes I regret that. 

She came home at the end of the summer with literally dozens of new scars, in two rows down her right arm. Easily fifty new marks. And that's not even counting the ones on her legs. 

When I asked her how old they were, she said two and three weeks. 

I knew she was struggling. I heard it in her voice when she called me. And she called me a lot. Sometimes three or four times a day, even when she was doing stuff. 

The thing is, I did end up telling him that she was struggling. I asked him to make sure she took her meds (which he did). 

But, according to her, he never noticed or mentioned the new cuts. Which means, in her mind anyway, that he still isn't seeing her. 

Several of the times she called me, she told me she just wants to be normal. She thinks her dad would be more present for her if she was. It makes me wonder what he says to her. I worry that he rides her about being normal - or at least about acting normal. 

She's a good, smart, caring person. She happens to have crippling social anxiety. It's part of who she is. We're trying to help her deal with it as best she can, but it's not something she can help. She doesn't choose this. It just is. Making her feel even worse about it is counterproductive. 

My heart breaks when she tells me how much she hates herself, that she wishes she were someone else. That she wishes she were normal. 

My dear, sweet girl - nobody is normal. I hope she understands this, and soon. 

Missing her

The girl is going to be gone for another week and a half.
I can't help but worry. I'm happy for her that she is visiting the East Coast friends and family, but I want her home. I'm ready to knuckle down and get some academics going for the new year.

Who am I kidding? I miss the kid. It's that simple.

Not alone

I've just started taking the NAMI Beginner Basics class. NAMI  is the National Alliance for Mental Illness, and the class is for parents and caregivers of children with mental illness.

I've discovered that, in the realm of parenting a child with mental illness. I have it pretty easy.

Not that we don't have day-to-day struggles. We certainly do. The stories I've heard from other parents, though, certainly are eye-opening.

I think this class is going to be really good for me. 

Cars

The girl's best friend got her driver's license and a car. 

Watching my first born drive away for the first time, with her friend at the wheel was harder than I thought it would be. 

I don't think I'm ready for this.

A step back

The girl has recently had a small reversal.
I found some scratches on her arms. Initially when I asked, she said she didn't know what they were from.
Then she admitted that she had done them with a pin. And that she's not taking her meds.
Holy crap. More stuff for the therapist.

I asked the homeschooling group for help getting her involved, and a couple of moms of teens have offered to meet up separately. So glad I live here. We meet one family tomorrow. The other family, we will probably get together with next week. I'm as glad to meet other moms as she is to meet other teens.

My hope is that making some new friends will help alleviate her loneliness. I think that is a factor in her slipping back into bad habits.

This scares the hell out of me. I just have to keep her moving forward, and she'll be ok.
She has to be.

Lonely Girl

My girl is lonely.
We've talked about clubs. We've looked into lgbt groups. We've discussed a homeschooling group.
We get as far as talking about returning to public school, and then we hit a brick wall.
Our next meeting with the therapist will be focused on creating a plan to overcome her fear of people, and discussing anti-anxiety options.
I remember feeling lonely as a kid, not knowing how or where to make friends. And I went to public school.

Childhood Shouldn't Suck

I hear people say all the time "I survived childhood, my kid will too".

Or "being a kid sucks".

Frankly, my childhood did suck. But I don't think childhood has to suck!

Things that suck about being a kid :

School

Bullies

Lack of control of your life

Difficult family situations

School is designed to teach kids to conform. Some actual education may happen along the way, but it isn't the primary function. School is about raising your hand, fitting in, and being obedient. If you're different or weird, you get bullied, sometimes by adults. Personal learning styles are not taken into account, and if your family is dysfunctional, you're basically screwed.

So I homeschool. I allow my kids to learn however they learn best, in a safe environment. I let them have input in their education. We can cover the material as fast or slow as necessary. And they know that no matter what happens, they can come to me. Even if it's bad or scary. I listen to them, take them seriously, and love them without strings. I spend my days with them, and don't look forward to "back to school". The world is our school, and we take breaks when we need them, not because a calendar says so. 

I can accept that this life isn't for everyone, but my family thrives in it.

So I'll continue to homeschool.

Friends

This is Sadie.
Sadie saved our girl. When she came home covered in scars, and couldn't connect with people, this dog made a connection with her.
Sadie is having surgery tomorrow. She has a mass on her spleen, and needs to have it removed.
We love this dog, but even more, I'm terrified what will happen to my girl if this dog doesn't come through this.




Update: Sadie had her spleen removed on Wednesday. By Saturday she was so weak she could barely lift her head, and struggled for every breath. On Sunday, we made the difficult decision to euthanize her, so as not to prolong her struggle. The whole family went, and my girl held her in her lap while Sadie breathed her last.
We loved her greatly, and miss her very much.

School and other important stuff

As you know, I made the decision to homeschool last year, after my teen was thrown into a huge school and ended up hospitalized after a suicide attempt.

So, we've officially started our academic year. The teen is studying zoology, and is captivated. I'm always so excited when she gets enthusiastic about a subject.

She asked me to get her back on her meds, and to help her find a therapist that she might click with a bit better. I'm glad she's come to me instead of waiting until things got bad.
We have appointments this coming week to get right on it.

My girl will be just fine.

Moving

Tomorrow we move into our new house. We're so excited!
My teen loves her new room, and my little loves our new yard! We'll have space to set up a work area for my kids, a family room, and a garden!
The teen is motivated this year to get through her academics with as little delay as possible so she can move ahead.

Today, I was attacked by a family member for not sending her back to public school. She accused me of being selfish, and taking the easy way. That I need to think about what's best for my children for once. She told me my girl will be a dysfunctional adult if I don't force her back into school.
If you have a teen in the house, I'm sure that you are aware that having her at home all day is NOT taking the easy way out. The other, bigger issue here is the social anxiety disorder that the girl has.
Am I supposed to send her back to a place where she is so unhappy she has to harm herself to deal with it?
(Here's a hint - HELL NO!)
I understand that my family member is concerned. I get she doesn't understand what our day-to-day life is like. And I even can kind of accept that she means well.
Those things being said, I have every right to raise my children as I see fit. I also have an obligation to do what I feel is best for them.
Public school ain't it.

Anxiety

My girl has just spent the last 2 months visiting her father for the first time since she came home. I picked her up at the airport on Sunday. I couldn't really relax until I saw her beautiful face.
She called me every day she was gone, and texted me that she wanted to come home.
I'm so glad to have her back.
I haven't checked her for fresh cuts. I'm too afraid. I know I need to. I just need everything to be ok for a little longer.
I'm a coward, I know.

Oppression

Oppression comes in many forms. For women, it frequently comes masked as protection.
Don't go out alone. Stay out of certain neighborhoods. Don't wear revealing clothing. Don't be a slut.
It hurts my heart that I've already had to say some of these things to my own daughters. I have to worry about what they wear- not because they are bad or weak or stupid girls. I have to worry because if something should happen it may be blamed on them because they were wearing short skirts, or tight shirts, or whatever stupidity might be used to justify evil actions.
I have to teach my daughters that even though we know many good and decent men, there are some out there just waiting for a girl to come along to victimize. And because you can't tell who they are- ALL men need to be treated with suspicion until they prove themselves.
I desperately want to tell my kids that most people are good, but that gives them the idea that they can let their guard down. And they can't. Not ever. My daughters will always have to think, in the back of their minds, that they need to be careful around men. And that makes me sad and sick.

Outburst

Yesterday was an emotional day.
The girl has been shirking her chores, and I called her on it. It ended up with her shrieking in my face. When I asked her later what that had been about, her answer was "I have no idea".
Thankfully, we see the therapist today.

I hate feeling like I have to walk on eggshells around my child. I hate not being able to leave a teenager alone because I'm afraid she'll hurt herself.
And I really hate that I let myself get pulled into an altercation with a 14 year old.

I need to talk to the therapist to learn tools for dealing with this.

I was terrified every time she left the room for the rest of the day, wondering if she was cutting herself, how bad it would be, and if she would go too far.

Today, everything is back to normal.

Nightmares

In my dreams I'm searching for my kids. I can hear their voices. I step in puddles of their blood. I find body parts lying on the ground.
Sometimes I'm not searching. Sometimes I'm trying to stop the flow of blood as my teen's life drains down her arm and drips off her fingertips.

I dread sleeping some nights.

In reality, the girl is healing well. And the closer she gets to being healed, the more "normal" teen attitude she has. I realize it's the age. 14 sucks, I remember.
I know that soon she'll be yet another person, and another year closer to the woman she'll become.
Parenting is so bittersweet. I wouldn't give it up for anything.

Progress

It's been a couple of weeks since the last incident. She seems to be doing ok.
She's been in fairly good spirits, and laughing and playing with the family.

We're easing into the homeschool lifestyle. And really, that's what it is. This has changed the dynamics of our household significantly; mostly for the better, I think.

We communicate more. We share our thoughts more. We set goals together.
The girl and I are making the decorations for our tree this year. We spend evenings working on them and talking after the little has gone to sleep.
So I suppose some good is coming out of all this misery. My big girl and my little girl are closer than ever. My girl and I have been able to reconnect. We're home, with my husband as a buffer between us and the world. (He's been wonderful about his anti-social family.)
Things are definitely on the upswing. I expect there will be more setbacks.
That's just life. And it hasn't been all that long.
But the future is looking promising, and we have a mellow kind of contentment instead of the constant despair that seemed to loom over us.