Today marks a year from the day we brought Sissy to RTC. 100 days of respite is now what I consider it.
It didn't help Sissy. I can't really say it made things worse either. At this point, we have reached the regrettable conclusion that Sissy really doesn't give a crap, it literally does.not.matter.to.her either way. Love the stuffing out of her? She'll rage. Completely ignore her? She'll rage. Find the middle of the road? She'll rage. So what's the point?
She is so emotionally detached and indifferent toward us that we're numb. My friend's nonverbal autistic son is more demonstrative in his emotion! Sissy couldn't care less if we were here or not, she cares only that her needs and demands are appropriately addressed. That is, if we address them by HER definition of appropriation.
A year ago I did what I thought was the most difficult thing a mother could do, I committed my child to a psychiatric facility. A year later I'm now doing what I consider to be the most difficult thing a mother can do, I'm attempting to parent a child that doesn't want my parenting.
A year later I've learned a lot and Sissy has learned nothing. A year later I've changed a lot and Sissy has changed nothing. A year later I'm more tired, more emotionally distressed, more bedraggled, more anxious, more worried, more stressed, more traumatized, more angry and more hopeless. A year later and Sissy is still a blank, emotionless droid that rages for hours when she doesn't get her way.
A year later and it's thanksgiving again. A year later and I'm still having trouble getting through my pain and sorrow to find things to be thankful for. A year later and Sissy still doesn't know what it means to be thankful.
One year later and RTC, IFI and CBAY or not, Sissy's issues are worse, not better.