Breaking thru Beautifully...

When life happens and all you want to do is cry, come join me on my little adventure...for after all, sometimes, it's just about breaking thru it all....beautifully.

“I want off…”

Unless you have lived with it, you could not possibly begin to understand. And as I type this, I know I have been told numerous times, “I understand.” But really, how could you? How could I even begin to explain what it is like to live with someone who has such a severe mental illness. How can you explain to someone that when you think, “I want off this crazy train?” you actually really mean it, but you know it won’t happen and this is your life, this is the life that is given to you and there is no way out or off…and as bad as it is for you, it doesn’t even begin to compare to the one who is suffering from the illness.

How do you find hope when there is no hope?

I have a daughter who suffers from Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) and Borderline Personality Disorder, as well as anxiety and depression and when it rears its ugly head, let’s throw in some Oppositional Defiance Disorder (ODD) as well.

It’s not her fault. She didn’t ask for it. She can’t help it. And there are times when she cannot control it. So it is constant work on all of her family to help her thru it.

So what does that look like? It means we monitor her meds closely. And you can’t for a moment think that she can take charge of this herself, although eventually, she’s going to have to in order to function in the adult world.

It means, when she doesn’t want to work and she is in your face screaming at you, you still have to remain calm and not react, and somehow hold her accountable anyway.

It means when she breaks into your most personal things and absolutely has no regard for anyone but herself, because that is truly all she can think about when she is triangulating and spiraling downhill quickly, then YOU have to remember that it isn’t personal, she does love you, and you have to be the bigger person.

It means when she does the same to her siblings, friends, and those who are close to you, you have to help them thru it and remind them that it isn’t personal, and although they have a right to feel the way they do, they somehow need to understand that she can’t help it. That it doesn’t make it ok, but that she is out of control.

It means that when she doesn’t get the reaction that she desperately wants, because you are trying so hard to give her what she desperately needs, she will do anything and everything to get a reaction. She will follow you around and get in your face and go from extreme highs to extreme lows until you are backed into a corner, and for her safety and everyone’s safety in the household, you have no choice but to do the one thing you know will only set her back even further.

It means that you just may have to convince yourself that you are not going crazy. So, you take her to the hospital in hopes of saving her from herself. In hopes of getting her stable enough to try and bring her home and start all over again.

You have a friend drive while you sit in the back with her to keep her safe.

You take her and listen to her beg you not to leave her there; you listen to her cry out because she wants to know if her life is always going to be like this…in and out of hospitals.

You take her and listen to her tell you that she will never be able to trust you.

You watch her “attach” to the friend who is strong enough to go with you in case she bolts and harms herself.

You sit with her for hours, and watch her go from love and fear to hate and defiance.

And then, you watch her walk thru the doors once again, the doors that continue to take her away from you. The doors which you cannot walk thru. You can’t go with her, because for this part, she has go it alone. And you pray that she knows that you would go with her if you could. That you truly never have left her side, even though she feels completely and utterly alone.

And the guilt is almost unbearable, because it’s not that you don’t care; it’s that you have played this game so much, that you are able to allow the numbness to take over temporarily, so that the others don’t see how crushed and broken you are on the inside. And then, you remind yourself, that you are strong. God gave you this beautiful, broken child because He knew you would be strong enough to do what you have to to help her. And that when you are at your weakest, He will give you the strength you need to take one more step.

I will never give up on her; even when she has given up on herself. My beautifully broken daughter.

broken-butterfly

 

 

 

 

This Journey of Mine

I could never have imagined the pain of motherhood. Pain associated with love, pride, loss, anger, guilt, frustration, sadness, heartbreak….

I started this blog because I needed a way to process; and I process best when I write things out. Lately, I haven’t had time to process, which is probably why I am a mess. Yes, I am a mess of a mom. And I have to think that there are so many other moms out there who feel the same way. Who knows if any of them will ever read this blog, but if some mess of a mom happens to come across this journey of mine, I hope something I’ve shared can help them.

The last post I wrote was in regards to feeling broken as I began a journey of intense therapy with our youngest daughter. Six weeks later…

This week, we took a trip and admitted her to a long term facility to get her the help that she needs. I keep reminding myself that this is the right thing to do. And in my doubt, I remind myself that He is with us on this journey and He has orchestrated this plan.

I remind myself that on the day I broke, He planted the name of this facility right in front of my face.

I remind myself that when I felt guilty and wondered how I could possibly do this, He brought a friend who truly understands all that we are going thru…all the way from Missouri to my doorstep, and gave my husband and I the encouragement to push thru to the light at the end of the tunnel…a light we can’t see yet, but are assured is there.

I remind myself that it is not my fault; it is not her fault; it just is.

I believe that parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done. Parenting a child with Reactive Attachment Disorder is even harder. It is a type of parenting that others truly can never understand unless they have lived with it themselves. The types of destructive behaviors, the struggle, the frustration, the hurt, and exhaustion often times make parents of RAD children seem awful. We know we look like terrible parents to the outside world, and after time, we discover that we cannot “fix” these broken children, and we feel so guilty.

I remember when my friend was going thru what we are now, and thinking, “Can it really be that bad? Surely not? She just needs to allow herself to love these kids thru it.”

And she did.

But it wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. Loving them thru it sometimes feels impossible. Will they ever understand the magnitude of the love that we feel for them?

How do you fix a broken child?

You love them. You find them help. You realize that even though a mom is supposed to be able to handle it all, fix everything, sometimes you have to let go.

It took years for us to fight it out and bring them home permanently. We thought we had finally won the long battle.

I realize now, the battle has just begun. Yet today, I feel like I have no fight left in me. Just emotion; raw emotion.

I cannot escape the guilt of feeling relief, that today, I can rest assured that there will be no arguing; no sabotage, no destruction, no praying for bedtime to come so that we can start all over tomorrow.

I cannot escape the thoughts that pound in my head; Is she ok? Did she sleep well? Does she feel abandoned?

I remind myself that I have to trust that He is taking care of her. That He has placed caregivers in her path to help her cope, to help her trust, to help her love, to help her accept love; to help her heal. To trust that He will bring her home to us.

And I remind myself that the best I can do for today is to be here for my other children. I can be strong and help them thru this. Help them heal. Help them grow.

And allow myself to heal.

And hopefully, we’ll all be able to break thru all of this… and break thru beautifully.

 

Broken

There’s a song, “Bring the Rain” by Mercy Me. There was a time when I listened to it on a daily basis. It’s funny how a certain song can just be what you need to get you thru.

Today was not an easy day. First of all, it was a Physical Therapy day for me. They are never easy, but I hear it will all be better if I just hang tough.

It was day two of our radical therapy. The idea is to force an attachment. But how do you force someone to attach to you if they just aren’t that interested? Maybe she is; I honestly just don’t know. After yesterday when she realized her outside socialization had been greatly diminished, I received a letter. I’m choosing to see it as her making a positive change rather than manipulation to get what she wants. And yet, I still didn’t do all I was supposed to. I’m supposed to keep her by my side as much as possible. And I tried…but her shower took forever, and her hair took forever and there was never time for our ten minutes of coloring. Instead there was her doing everything possible to delay spending any more than the necessary amount of time with me.

Reactive Attachment Disorder. **sigh**

It’s funny how you believe you can handle anything….and then realize that perhaps, you can’t. You think you’re prepared…and find out you aren’t.

Parenthood is a lot harder than I could have ever dreamed. My son is sick. He hurts. And no one can figure out why. I think if we could just have a reason, then perhaps we could deal. Perhaps we could find some miracle drug to end his suffering once and for all. But we can’t.

Someone said to me today, “I feel broken…”

Yes.

And I’m a fixer. I like to fix things. And yet I can’t…so I’ll just keep trying, one day at a time, and hopefully, I’ll figure out to break thru…beautifully.

Here’s the song I listen to these days…

Mold Me

His works
But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8

Just when I think that perhaps, just perhaps, I am finally about to lift out of this fog, a new storm rumbles in.

May I just say…”I-AM-SO-TIRED-OF-THE-STRUGGLE.”

I’m tired of my son suffering from a mysterious physical ailment that no team of specialists can seem to figure out.

I’m tired of the struggle of raising a daughter who is a product of the failure of our state system when it comes to protecting it’s children.

I sat and talked for hours with a friend-who-is-more-than-a-sister today. And we both came to one agreement…parenting adult children is harder than parenting babies.

What? 😯

Say it isn’t so!

We’ve both agreed we get less sleep now than when they were babies. Why? Because if we aren’t crying, we are praying for them…or we are crying and praying for them at the same time.

The burden that is placed on the heart of a parent of an adult child is like nothing I have ever experienced. They are adults. They will make their own mistakes. They will fail. They will suffer. They will have to learn things the hard way.

Just like we did when we were their age.

Which is why it is so much harder for us.

Because we have been there. Because we know where it leads and how painful it is. Because we can no longer put a bandaid on it and kiss it and make it feel better. Because we cannot put them in their crib or playpen and stop them from harm. Because we can no longer supervise their play-dates.

And the list goes on and on.

My daughter asked me recently, “What has He done for me?”

It has struck me to the core…that she can even ask such a question. Did I not raise her right? Have I not taught her who she can depend on? That He alone can fill the emptiness if she would just let Him?

And then…my Father reminded me of something.

He is in charge, not me. He has it all under control, not me. He is who I should be focusing on…not me.

And then, He placed this verse in my head.

 “But now, O Lord, you are our Father;

we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8″

Mold me, Lord. Let me be the beautiful works of Your hand.

And let me break thru beautifully…

 

Breaking thru… Beautifully (or not!)

2014…it wasn’t a a great year. We suffered some great losses and at times felt like we’d barely make it through. But, there was joy and celebration as well. My daughter became engaged and we spent much of our time planning the wedding celebration. Then, as the year came to a close, more bad news, more health issues, more struggles…and honestly, I couldn’t wait for 2015. It just had to get better, right?

Only, it wasn’t. It isn’t.

If someone were to ask me today, “Hey, how’s it going?” I’d be moved to tears. I’ve cried more in the past few weeks, in the past few days, then I have in a lifetime.

Or so it seems.

Let me just recap…

Since New Year’s day….one of my favorite family members has been diagnosed with uterine cancer. She’s the one family member that gets me…that sticks with me, up for me and loves me unconditionally.

My mom is well…honestly, I don’t even know. My dad is at a loss as to how to deal with her and I truly believe she must be suffering from the early signs of dementia. The stress of worrying about your parents who live a full day’s drive away is almost unbearable at times.

The wedding has now been called off…postponed…indefinitely. My daughter seems to be in shock, the groom is trying to deal and the family is just…functioning. And so we pick up the pieces. One phone call at a time….

The poor Hobby Lobby lady was wonderful when I broke into tears over the phone and asked if we could get a refund on the items we’d been purchasing. And she was wonderful when we came in with bag after bag of items. It was a strange, numbing kind of moment.

I haven’t slept in weeks. One, because of my health, and two…I’m sure because of the stress. When my best friend called to check in on me today, I had to ask….could I also possibly be starting menopause?

You see, in addition to the steroids for my neck injury (did I mention that?) and the stress that seems to be compounding, I’ve also found myself unable to sleep. I often wake up in the middle of the night sweating or just really, REALLY hot! I’m pretty sure these aren’t the hot flashes that I’ve witnessed in others, but….they’re enough to keep me up, wake me up and make me change PJ’s in the middle of the night. UGH!

But…there are also benefits…I now only have to shave my legs once a week!

I’ve started a new Bible study….”My Spirit, My Responsibility.” I’m really enjoying it…it seems to be about the only thing that is keeping me grounded right now.

That…and the women in my life who get it.

I’ve been a blogger for years…however I’ve always been careful what I blog in order to protect my family. But I feel I have a lot to share…..maybe I just need to get some things off my chest, maybe I can help someone….maybe I can offer a little laughter thru a little tears….

I’m not sure, but I do know one thing….instead of breaking down, I think I’ll try and break thru….one day at a time, and hopefully, I’ll manage to do it beautifully.

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