All the kids were asked to "run through their chores" before bed last night. It is something I holler out a few times a day Everyone did exactly that, except Patches. She focused on a towel that someone had set on the stairs and began screaming at Emma about how she was ruining her life by making her pick it up. First of all, I am not exaggerating when I say this child truly believes she has the right to go after Emma for leaving an item in her area. If she is left unattended, she would threaten and eventually assault her. Secondly, it wasn't even Emma. She happened to be the person nearest to her. It was me. Patches doesn't care who is really at fault. In her mind, we are all out to get her in some way.
After quite bit of fussing from her, I sent her on to bed in hopes that the morning would bring a better attitude. I was mistaken. She refused to eat breakfast. She sat in the fetal position refusing to pick up the same darn towel for 6 hours. I eventually asked her to go be pitiful somewhere else and she kicked me. I struggled and got her arm behind her back to help her to the porch. She went off the deep end and threw the rocking chair over the railing and began to really freak out. My DH stepped on the porch and grabbed her arm before she knocked me out. She seemed to calm down for a second and he released her arm. She took off running don the gravel drive way in her PJs and bare feet. She took off down the road but stopped 3 doors down and sat by their mailbox. It took her about another hour to calm down and come back.
She sat on our porch quietly hating me. If I said anything she would whisper that I was stupid or that she wants me to die. I noticed she bit her arm and asked her if she needed ointment. She informed me that she had scratches, too. She plans on telling the Judge that I bit her and scratched her. Whatever. She did come back in a few minutes ago and happily did her chore like nothing has happened. I am sure she is half starved and smelling the roast cooking all day has helped her attitude.
About Me
- Tudu
- Deep South, United States
- I am the mother of 10 children, 6 are part of a large sibling group we adopted through foster care in 2006, 2 are our grown foster daughters, 2 are from independent infant adoptions in 2001 and 2008. Every one of them have their own issues to work through from Schizo-Affective Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Complex PTSD, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Sensory Integration Dysfunction, ADHD, and Cerebral Palsy. Most of our children have been victims of sexual abuse by a close family member, most acted out sexually or exhibited predatory behaviors. We are currently trying to figure out where the trauma ends and mental illness begins in each of their lives.
4 comments:
It's no wonder I haven't heard back from you.
Huge hugs!
So...is this the type of behavior that we're being asked to "just understand because it's part of their disability"??? My sons' home based therapist has really been on a kick about it lately. He rages until HE is done and there is nothing you can do to prevent it or stop it once it starts and the whole world is supposed to stop until they're done?? Then, it's like nothing ever happened. I am handling the day to day drama here and have been for years - but it's gotten so...old. Things I was sure would be outgrown by now simply aren't even close to being gone and I'm wearing out. What are they going to do when they're way older and bigger and still behaving this way? I am not feeling real optimistic about the future for these kids right now. I wish I had something positive to comment, but I think I'm losing it - when do I get to throw a tantrum over something (nothing) and get to hold everyone in the house hostage for 6 hours?
my heart is breaking for this little girl.And for those who get caught in the cross-fire, like you.
Lisa, Please forgive. I promise to call you today.
Lisa, I get tired of it, too. The rest of the kids are doing so much better and this poor child just lingers. I want it to magically disappear and her to be better. She can't. This is not fun anymore. I feel that every once in a while I need to feel sorry for me for a minute. All my time and energy is spent helping them and doing what is right for them that I get forgotten about. I think you deserve a tantrum. Lock yourself in your room and throw a bit one. Shoot, call me and we can do it together.
Thandi, mine, too.
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