Tuesday, June 21, 2011

My Late Unhappy Fathers Day Post (that has nothing to do with Fathers day)

You know, I have no issues with my children wanting to express themselves. Sierra went through that phase of her childhood and it was fine. However, Ivy has no style whatsoever and she doesn't know HOW to have a style. She doesn't understand anything to do with social appropriateness and has to be in classes at school just to learn that its not okay to LICK people, but there is no one but me to teach her how to have a style. How to comb her hair, shower, pick clothes that match and look good, have a hair style, etc..  and every single attempt has failed. Repeatedly. She continues to part her short hair directly down the middle, slicked down, and very much DOES look like a boy. Her anxiety sky rockets all the time, "I look like a boy!" "People call me a boy!" "Why do I look like a boy??" and its daily. Yet any attempts to get her to do her hair differently... even as simple as a clip on the side, pulling her bangs sideways, or scrunching the back to give it volume.... are at first met with a little resistance... but then she likes it. She loves it! She takes pictures. She looks at herself in the mirror. She shows everyone. She says how pretty she is. Ten minutes later she suddenly flips the other way and starts screaming that she can't take it, "I want it flat! I want it flat! OMG make it flat! I want it normal! I want it down!" and she puts her head in the sink, wets my house, her head, her clothes.. and frantically does this while screaming and shrieking, and hitting me. Any attempts to console her are futile. She won't say anything else except to just ignore everything I say to her. I don't know what to do anymore. I can't just let her go and expect her to learn eventually. She already gets teased all the time, and bullied daily at school. I want to help her! This isn't about forcing her to wear dresses, or making her change dramatically. This is like, "Here, try a headband." or "How about you tuck your hair behind your ears?" and then we spend a LOT of time looking at styles, and looking at pictures. And she finds so many she thinks are pretty... but she can't do them. She can't keep it. She always goes back to the ball of nothingness. And I am having a hard time separating my feelings. Angry PenguinImage via Wikipedia

I have never had an issue with personal style and kids making their own choices. I really don't give a crap. Its hair. But in this case, she is doing it because of her anxiety.. and its not healthy for her to continue to do something that is negatively affecting her SO MUCH... the amount of people and kids that hurt her every day are numerous. And its because of her hair. And I'm helpless because she won't listen to me or keep it the way we put it. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm fucking pissed off right now to be honest. I wasted nearly 2 hours of my day trying to get her hair in a "new way" so that her anxiety about looking like a boy would lessen, and it worked... only for a few minutes to pass and for her to get angry and mad at me for the "new style" that she just seconds ago gushed about. What gives? Is this anxiety driven? How do we get past it? She did this with long hair too. And unfortunatly because of her personal space issues, she always gets head lice from people... and she didn't want to put it up at all. I had to give reinforcements of food if she came home from school with her hair still up. And for awhile that worked. But it seems like this anxiety to have her hair down and flat slicked to her face like... ugh.. its just... it IS weird looking. How do I keep my little girl who people already think is weird, from making herself look weirder? In a quote un quote "normal" child, I would let them do what they wanted and then let the natural course of learning show her different ways.  But Ivy has autism, a cognitive disorder, ADHD, and an anxiety disorder. She can't do it on her own.. What am I supposed to do? Send her out in the world with mismatched clothes, hair that looks disgusting, and just.... let her? *sigh* Parents ARE going to judge me for it. They already have judged me for letting my oldest have her own style and that was minor compared to this.

I don't have kids that dress in expensive perfect matching clothes. I seem to have 4 girls that so far all want to look like boys, or at least don't want to express themselves in any way whatsoever. I guess I have myself to blame for that. I don't have a style myself. I barely shower, I never have a chance to buy or wear proper clothes. And really, for who? For what? So it can get chewed on? Spit on? Nose wiped on? The reality is, I have nothing. I am nothing.

Happy Fathers day. I'm feeling really low after this mornings blow up over hair. I don't know why. Maybe because I can't do ANYTHING to bond with ANY of my kids. And I can't help them or tell them ANYTHING, and have them listen. Yet if someone else tells them, chances are they'll listen then. So really, what good am I besides the maid? I clean things, they mess them up. I cook, they throw around.. possibly eat. I wash. They fuck up. ..... at the end of the day there are always complaints and no thank you's. Not even from my teenager. What little I see of her anymore.

Not having a vehicle is throwing me off in a big way. Its been nearly 2 months with nothing but the occasional use of my cousins car, which I would be grateful for,... if he were not LIVING ON MY LIVING ROOM FLOOR! .... we all know how I get when we have company that overstays their welcome. (which in btw, anything more than a few hours.) I just need my own space. I need to feel safe in my house. I need this to be a place for ME. And its not. It hasn't been for a long time.

Chris finally has his surgery and can walk and help me... and he's not. He's outside with Matthew working on the jeep. Every day. All day. And I'm in here. I'm like an octopus. Arms and legs everywhere, running here and there.. trying to catch things before people get hurt. Trying to always be here saving people, feeding, breaking up fights. And every day loops into the next. I don't have the time or the energy, or the capability, or the gas, or the vehicles or the ability to take my kids out of the house and do something new with them. Or to even do something that isn't new. We haven't been on a walk, or gone swimming at Rotary Park in years. Its been years. And THAT... is pathetic.

I feel like I'm rotting on the inside slowly every day.  I wake up and the cycle starts all over again. And its not like planting a flower and watching it grow and nourishing and taking care of it.... and then seeing what it turns into. This.. this is painful. This is more than painful. This is watching life happen around me, and watching me... away from myself.. trying to keep up. Having no time to even reflect on anything that makes me feel happy. Its why there are rarely any happy status messages (something I've been chastised for recently. Go figure.) and why my blog posts are usually angst ridden or angry, or overly emotional. Because its in THESE moments, that I sit here at the computer and fire off posts and messages. Somehow when its something i want to say thats happy, the need to write isn't as strong. ..... coping. Its a coping skill I guess. ... my feeling starts to fade by the time the message is written... and I can feel my anger lessening. So I guess I'm using it as a coping mechanism to get through the emotional feelings I'm having at the time. Silently slamming computer keys is my version of hitting people or screaming. And in a case like the trigger today... I have no reason to be angry, yet I am. I am.. hurt. I put so much effort into everything I do..   and I was so happy that she was happy about her hair. I even took pictures. And then she snapped and flipped backwards. And it caught me off guard. Instead of looking at it rationally today and knowing (duh) that she has anxiety issues. (I knew she would take it out. I did know.) I got carried away in the happy feelings I was having, and thus.. it feels personal when she flipped the other way and started yelling about her hair. ..... So how can the happy moments mean something to me.. how can I hold onto the happy ones, when they get negated? Because THAT is the issue.

I bribe people, or give in to people desires because I need them happy so that I can be happy. And lately there are so many issues, and needs, that at every moment....someone is unhappy. On the rare occasion that all my younger kids are happy at the same time, and Chris and I are happy at the same time.... in walks Sierra from outside in the crappiest mood I've seen ever. Any attempts to talk to her are met with the traditional teenager attitude of "What?" and "so?" and "ya." etc. complete with eyerolling, shoulder shrugging, whatevers, and the pissiness that goes along with it. And again I find myself trying to cheer up the person that is upset. "I have a candy bar, want to share it with me?" "Sure" but the mood remains. I try something else. And more. And every time that her mood stays the same, its like a knife through my heart.

With Chris, he wants games. And his face lights up when he talks about a new game he wants. And then he begs and pleads like a little boy. "Pleeeease?" and I want him to stay happy. I want to see that smile on his face and that twinkle in his eyes. So I give in. Even though he already bought a game. And we can't afford it. And I think its horribly unfair that he gets TWO $60 games and I have bought nothing for myself that month.. Buy? I've had one shower this month. I don't even get to take care of the basic needs like peeing, showering, eating, etc..  they get put off and put off. Why? Do they really stop me? I feel like attitudes and moods stop me. Facial expressions stop me. I want to keep people happy...  ...  I'm not sure what this is, or how to fix it. And for once in my life I haven't googled it yet. This is the root to most of my issue I think, personally and as a mother.

How can I be happy despite everyone else's moods? Is this an autism thing? Is this a woman thing? A mom thing? A fucked up in the head thing? Help me.

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