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Last week I discussed PTSD, and several readers commented about living with chronic PTSD. How does one rise above the fray? How can we focus on the bigger picture, find joy in the moment, and reframe our lives so that our entire family is not centered around our disruptive kids? The latter can be very difficult to do when, in fact, our entire family is centered around our disruptive kids …
I really wasn’t sure what sterling advice I had to offer. I survived my long period of struggle with Amy one day at a time. There were many, many days where I was drowning. It seemed I had two choices: either invest heart and soul and work way harder on her life than she did, or “check out” and invest little or nothing. Neither seemed appropriate, but I never found that middle ground. If I had any investment in her life whatsoever, it was enough for her not to. If I allowed myself to feel my feelings, the despair and frustration were overwhelming. I found it nearly impossible to share space with her and not be affected by her choices.
“Checking out” was not what I had signed up to do as a mom, but she resented any and all involvement that wasn’t on her terms. She was jealous of my relationship with Beth, but she thwarted any attempts to build a relationship with her. It is with great sadness that I acknowledge the only way we made it to 18½ was because the last nine months we essentially lived apart—her in one duplex, me in the other. I was really, really struggling when we moved back to Kansas from Illinois. Still, I found myself fielding phone calls from frustrated school staff and Navy recruiters and a host of other folks who were trying to help Amy succeed. Even though we didn’t live under the same roof, I was still feeling the stress and dealing with the fallout.
Of course, in addition to Amy, the family dynamics were significantly altered when we shared space with Tommy and various other kids for brief periods of time. Tommy’s impact was usually more of a crisis and more immediate in terms of needing to respond. Amy was more like Chinese water torture … a drip at a time, guaranteed to drive you insane by the end … That is, of course, if you cared about her, which I did and I do. Therein lies the problem.
More thoughts coming about this …
Thoughts at the end of a very, very long road
Part Two
Part Three
I hear ya Nancy!
drip…..drip…..drip……