3 a (1) : a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something (2) : an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking (3) : an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure
After weeks on end of extreme exhaustion, frustration, mental annihilation, emotional anguish, utter despair, escalating anxiety and unmitigated fury regarding Sissy's complete unwillingness to embrace truth, wisdom, change and discipline; after weeks on end of her lying, deceitful, manipulative, hateful, spiteful, violent, disrespectful, rude and conniving attitudes and behaviors, The Dad and I have had an epiphany.
There we sat, side by side on the sofa, attempting in vain, once again, to help Sissy see the error of her thinking and the certain path of doom laid before her because she fails to choose wisely, we were exasperated. The Dad was fuming and I was numb, as I have been for weeks on end. Sissy? She was raging. Duh.
Finally, I said with a sigh, "well Sissy, it really doesn't matter. Write the sentences for lying or don't. Just know that you won't get to wear the cat costume for Halloween ... again."
The Dad turned to me and said, "Right. Because she was supposed to have worn that costume last year but didn't because she continued to rage and choose poorly."
"Yep. We're exactly where we were at with her, one year ago."
I swear, after I said it, the earth stopped for a nanosecond. Maybe it was the aftermath of the tsunami in Indonesia, maybe it was the heartburn from the dressing on my southwest grilled chicken salad, but I swear to you, the earth stopped.
The Dad and I blinked at each other and then...
Because OMG! The CRAP we've been through this whole year with this kid, the crap we've done for her, the crap the therapists have tried to teach her, every second of it, every.single.thing and we're exactly where we were at with her one year ago.
We've been staring down on the face of a raging, mindless fool that refuses to accept consequences for her actions. It's the same idiotic insanity day in and day out with her, no matter what we do or say. And it all boils down to the same stupid Halloween costume she didn't get to wear because she'd rather lie, manipulate, rage, cajole, deceive, irritate, harass, ignore and abuse than do whatever inane thing we've asked her to do to EARN SOMETHING SHE HAS TOLD US SHE WANTED.
Three weeks after last year's nonsense, her butt landed in RTC. Guess where she'll probably be three weeks from now? RTC. Will it matter?
NO!
And that's the epiphany. 100 days at RTC, intensive family intervention for seven months, CBTs, DBTs, social stories, therapies, respites, IEPs, medications, pdocs, psychologists, social skills, unskilled wrap around services, CBAY waivers, action plans, crisis plans, cops at my front door, EMTs and ambulance rides to the ER, 10 hours on my ass in a hard chair - twice in 7 days - 72 hours in a psych ward, a dead fish, revoking of privileges, a safe room with padded walls, removal of all personal items, threatening harm to our dog, being incapable of being left unsupervised for 2 seconds, stepping on her kid sister's stitched up ankle 5 days after the dog bite, cutting her hair, hours upon hours upon hours dealing with hygiene, constipation, toileting and showering, having to answer to all of the professionals about what WE'RE doing to help Sissy, all of the angry friends and family members that don't understand, all of it, every single second of it all, all of my time, money, energy, hope, love, worry, concern, effort, all of it
WASTED
because she still won't do the simple thing we've asked her to do as a consequence for a behavior. She still won't earn a privilege. She still won't respect us. She'll still lie first and foremost. She'll still tell unsuspecting people how horrible her parents are, how miserable her life is because of US. She still won't reciprocate love but will still demand it from us ad infinitum. She still refuses, refuses, REFUSES to be a "normal" human regardless of the interventions acted in her behalf. She still rages for hours on end, throwing things, kicking, hitting and punching but mysteriously never loses her voice. She still hurts those that try to love her. She will not change. She will be this way
FOREVER
and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Except laugh my ass off. Which I did. And so did The Dad. And WG was bewildered and Sissy was raging because she didn't get the joke. But we laughed and laughed and laughed. In between gasps for air, The Dad replied to Sissy who said, "It's not FAIR!"
The Dad said, "Fair? FAIR!? Sissy, don't use big words you don't understand!"
and we high-fived and laughed some more.
Here's all I've got left for Sissy unless by some strange miracle, she gets a clue:
"whatever, kid. Change or don't. Learn or don't. Be a functional human or don't. Love or don't. I'm over it, kicking the dust from my shoes and washing my hands of it all...and maybe wearing your cat costume come Saturday because you obviously won't have seen the need to obey long enough to earn it."
6 comments:
At least you and Hubby are in sync :)
WOWZA! Epiphanies seem to be going around these days - Kari had one the other day, too. I don't think the year was wasted - as it brought you and will bring all the professionals to the point you are at today - enlightened and unburdened of the crazy responsibility to "fix" it for Sissy.
Amen sista!! You are way smarter than I am because I had this same epiphany not too long ago as well - but it took me 15 years of increasingly inhumane behaviors to get there. My dd (17 1/2) is in respite as I type - for the first time EVER and I am doing the happy dance all day long. The respite provider (a friend whom I drive 1 1/2 hrs. each way to meet HALFWAY and trade kids with) gets it - truly has a daughter who's also 17 and a clone of mine. We told the girls they would be best friends - and so far so good. She called yesterday to say that my daughter is saying she wants to go into this youth challenge academy program that her daughter is going in come Jan-June. That is just great, isn't it? She's tortured our family with her mean, argumentative, insane ramblings for years and now she meets this stranger and within 24 hours has turned over a new leaf and wants to go into this program. Had it been a year ago, I would have made it happen. At this point, though, I could care less. Go to the program, don't go, doesn't make a bit of difference to me anymore. In fact, she can absolutely go if she wants to do all the running around, filling out paperwork, finding a way to the 4-6 hr seminar you're required to attend and the open house a few weeks later, it's 4 hours away too so she'll need to find a bus to get her there. It is so freeing and dare I say - exhilarating, to hand her problems back over to her and just stop carrying the price of her failures on my heart. To stop blaming myself for her inability to make a good choice. This program would be great for her younger, bio brother as well except that they won't take anyone who doesn't say and show they want to change and he will NEVER admit he needs to change. I guess I need to find him a friend who's going there so he'll want to go too.
I am so happy for you!! I loved your hubbys line about not using big words she doesn't understand - I will be stealing that to use on my two little victims.
Reading your post made me think that yes, someone can offer all the support and chances in the world, but yes of course the one being offered to has to want to change, the motivation has to come from inside them before they can do it. SO hard with a child. I'm still in awe.
PS - sorry, I wondered if you'd ever seen this poem by Portia Nelson, your post made me think of it.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS
by Portia Nelson
I
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes me forever to find a way out.
II
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place
but, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit.
my eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V
I walk down another street.
Love the autobiography. Wish I thought my kids would ever get to step III, IV and V.
So far their autobiography reads.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever for someone else to find me a way out.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place
but, it isn't my fault.
I fight to stay in the hole because it is where I belong.
I'm mad at everyone for not getting me out.
Mary in TX
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