Part of this blog is me being honest, right? Brutally, yuckily, fantastically, open and fucking honest. It wouldn’t be real if I wasn’t, or if I sugar coated, or made it sound less bad, or good for that matter, than it really is. Often times I go back and read what I’ve written and think “I’m going to sound like a monster, nut job, horrible parent, etc… or, this makes us as a unit look pretty bad, I should re-word that” but nope. NO.FUCKING.WAY. For the following reasons – I have the hope that once we find the solution (and we will) we’ll look back on all of this and realize how far we’ve come, and appreciate it. Also, someone else in the world is going through, or will be at some point, going through the same shit with their kid, or kids. If my intent is truly to document our journey, and leave it all out there to help someone else, then it has to be 100% real, no filler. With that being said, here you go.
So the thing about facebook is that it shows you your memories yearly, previous posts, pictures, etc. I love and can’t stand this feature – lately, I’ve been reading a lot of the older posts that involve Olivia. She used to be funny, she used to make me laugh hysterically, she used to be loving, and say the funniest things. We used to have awesome conversations and exchanges in the car, her favorite place to talk, on the way somewhere. Well, that’s not exactly true, Olivia used to talk all the time, no literally, all.the.time. From the moment she woke up until she went to bed, she never stopped talking. Then her behavior changed. She wasn’t the sweet daughter that I knew and loved. She was, and still is someone else.
She has stopped talking. She’s not funny. She doesn’t make jokes. She makes sad attempts to get attention, trying to “force funny” that usually involves “baby voice” which makes me want to vomit, but I’m so irritated with her because of her behavior at school, or with the nanny when we’re not there, that I honestly don’t care to listen to what she has to say. I hate that. I don’t like feeling that way. However, when you spend all day acting like a 2 year old, getting written up at school, rolling round on the carpet, not listening to your teachers, and have the audacity to tell the nanny what you’re not going to do, I don’t have much to say. Realistically, I don’t want to hear shit unless it’s Olivia explaining to me why she’s acting like a heathen. But she won’t. Because 2 seconds after O gets in trouble for something, she has no recollection of it, she doesn’t act like she’s in trouble, which, by the way, infuriates me further.
It makes me horribly, terribly sad. We are doing everything we know how to get help, but at this moment in time, I DON’T LIKE MY DAUGHTER. I love her, but I don’t like what she has turned into. How to fix this? I don’t know. That portion has to be me. Maybe I have to let go of the knowledge that even though at this particular moment in time, she’s not causing a problem, give her 30 seconds, she will. I walk into the house and am genuinely excited to see the Hubs, and the boys – not so much Olivia. I ask for her folder to check her behavior chart, it’s always something. I talk to the nanny about how their afternoon was, it’s always something. I talk to her brothers about their day, most of which is spent without O, because she’s at school, but the first thing our older son tells me is – Owie did this, or Owie took that, or Owie hit me. I hate that she treats her brothers that way, which makes me not have any warm and fuzzy feelings about her. At all. Ever, lately. Just thinking about her causes me to have literal, physical anxiety, which is multiplied by 1000 when we are in the same place.
Here is where I am, and before I say it, I am in complete acknowledgement that it is a dark place to be. Do you let one child ruin the entire family? It feels like she is tearing us apart. There are days when I want to leave, I know there are days when the hubs wants to leave. There are days when I think “she’s damaging the boys, she’s teaching them horrible behaviors, she’s being mean to them, do I let her continue to do this to our family?” I have times when I am just flabbergasted and think, “ok there are 3 kids, 2 parents, and 1 problem…someone has got to go” There are days when I wish my grandmother was still here with us, I’d send her to stay with her for a year or so. It would be better for all involved. None of that will happen, we’re in it for the long haul, but these are my thoughts. It’s almost like the more we try to involve her in things, the more ridiculous she acts. She literally walks into the room and changes the entire dynamic of the situation. Right now, for different reasons, I’m sure, none of us really wants to deal with her and her shit. Honestly, there’s absolutely nothing I can do about that. Her behavior has to change, in a major way and permanently before the boys will trust her not to hurt them, or take their food, or say mean things when we aren’t within earshot. Before we can trust her to go to school and not act like an idiot, hell before I can trust her to take her to Walmart with us and have her not act like a complete mental patient.
So, I ignore her a lot. Not to be hurtful, which I’m sure it is, but so I don’t say mean things, so I don’t come into a conversation prejudiced about how it’s going to go when I ask her how her day was, so I don’t yell, so I don’t upset the boys. Not a good solution, but it’s better than faking nice (which I’m horrible at), and it’s also better than being mad, angry, rage-mom.
Hurry up counseling, we need it to get better than this. Fast.
Today I say this more to myself than anyone reading this –
Keep Hope Alive –