December 7, 2014

74 years ago today Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, and my grandpa was part of that war.
fast forward 74 years and I feel like a soldier fighting a battle of a completely different nature, but a battle no less.
This week's up's and downs were less severe with Tink. She was more stable than I've seen her in a long time. However, I don't think much attachment happened between her and I this week because it was a crazy week for me at work, and then also at home. Major things I learned this week are that I need to be grateful for the small blessings of healing glimpses. Also somehow before she returns to school in January I have got to get Think to turn in homework, she refuses. It's in her backpack but she won't turn it in.
I also learned that my oldest daughter has a very compassionate heart, she tries so hard 80% of the time with this whole situation, and I am so glad I am her mom.
My youngest Moo has been sick this week and missed most of her last week of school. I am so blessed to have my mom living under the same roof so that I can go to work and leave my sick girl at home, with full knowledge that she will be loved and taken care of.
We painted Luke's room finally, I'll be adding some hand painted Mario-themed murals soon, but that will come another day.

been a minute

It's been several months since I last blogged, there are many reasons for that but the biggest one is that I felt like people weren't receiving our story in a way that was helpful.
Screw them! This isn't a blog for warm fuzzies all the time. Our life is not warm and fuzzy, it used to be but that changed the day we put someone else's needs before our own, before we never evaluated what it might cost us and refused to pay the price.
I'm sorry my blog isn't filled with fun crafts, or outings we went on as a family, newsflash our lives aren't either.
Our lives are filled with happy moments, but our happiness comes from a child who hasn't slept more than 2-3 hours a night for 7 weeks straight sleeping a full night, then two, and more thanks to her medication, but because I choose to post the positive on Facebook, others assume everything is going great now. Here's what I'm not posting on Facebook, while our daughter is sleeping at night, her mind has been flooded with emotion her mania allowed her to power through before, she's a wreck somedays. Four hours on friday she pouted and whined with her face in the couch because she was mad I didn't give her something, she never let me know she wanted.
Our moments are filled with me hoping some day all four of my children will be able to get along and love each other. Un-teaching my youngest the RAD-like behaviors she has picked up from her sister.
Praising my oldest because she with stood the frustration it is to attempt to teach Tink something new, and helped her learn some origami. Seeing my son who has been a shadow of the boy he was 2 1/2 years ago light up because he got to spend the day 4-wheeling with is dad. I saw a glimpse of him come back and it was beautiful.

I'm not posting on Facebook about my husbands severe depression that had him questioning everything. Or my own battles with depression, because no one wants to hear it. Mental illness makes them feel uncomfortable. They would be more supportive, and more helpful if I told them I had cancer. Because to them Cancer is a real illness. Mental illness in most peoples eyes is something they need to get over, or have more faith, pray more, do more for others, read more scriptures, use this essential oil, read this book and you'll feel better. We have and we don't.
My adopted daughter now has Bi-Polar disorder, unmedicated she switches between hypomanic to manic symptoms with the once in awhile full blown psychosis, which is really really hard. In Addition to her still existing Reactive Attachment Disorder, her PTSD, and her Anxiety.
I'm not posting on Facebook how little we leave the house other than for work or school and doctors appointments. We don't take the kids to do fun things because I get so anxious about taking her anywhere. I don't have friends anymore, unless they have a child with a disorder because they understand when I tell them this is a bad day we can't come. Others have stopped inviting us, extended families don't ask us to dinner, we stay at home and survive.
We learn that some things are just not important, we are learning valuable life lessons. It's not all bad, but don't assume that because my Facebook status displays a gratitude, that our lives are any form of "normal" because they aren't.

Picture Of Self Worth

One of the things I struggle most with in the way we have to parent Sarah is how to build her self worth while teaching her that she needs to value others and be more compliant. It's a very slippery slope, and I am reassured by therapists that her self worth will come when the attachment starts getting strong. As you could imagine a child (or anyone for that matter) who is floating around in the world unattached to anyone probably wonders if it's because they are bad, or somehow cause their relationships to crumble. Sarah has basically no sense of self worth....none. Don't get me wrong she is very self-minded but that is not self worth...and having the combination of the two is very dangerous.

I have been reading about how taking pictures of your child's projects can help build their self worth. So yesterday I told Sarah it was Lego time and that I wanted her to take her time and make something she felt proud of, after working for about 20 minutes this beautiful child whom I have had to teach how to play normally lifted this little Lego tower and proudly showed me, I asked "can I take a picture of that? It looks really great and I can see how hard it was to build" her smile got bigger and I could see the glint of pride in her eyes, she then asked mom will you put my picture on your Facebook and in your diarrhea (which is her for diary and that is what she calls my blog), I smiled and said of course and let her watch my phone as I posted it. I will obviously be using this technique again in the future, as I refuse to believe that there is no way to build her self esteem before she attaches more.

A Day At The Ball Park.

I have to share something, we have been having a particularly difficult time with our little adopted daughter lately and for my hubby's birthday we got tickets via discount tire for a Bee's game so as we were getting ready to leave my mom offered to keep Sarah, since outings like that tend to trigger her and then the whole outing turns into keeping her on tight restriction. Anyway so we left her home to go get a kids meal and spend time with Grandma. We normally park in a business parking  lot to the west of the stadium and so this time we were surprised to see that it was under new ownership and the new company was asking for voluntary donations of any amount for their foundation to help kids healing from trauma...needless to say we said yes and donated. As we parked and walked past the building I saw two women standing there and asked them if they worked with this foundation and one of them said she started it. I told them thank you for creating this because families like mine need it, that I have a kid who has had a traumatic childhood and explained some of what we were dealing with, both the lady and I were in tears and choked up as she said "she is the kind of child I created this for" All I could say was thank you and walked away.
This place is called "The Utah House" and is run by St Anthony's Church, however they take children and families of any race or religion. They take medicaid and can work with insurance, they provide therapy and other resources for children who have suffered abuse and trauma. I am so glad resources like this exist.

http://www.utahhousetreatmentprograms.com

My Bittersweet Moment

I love respite for my rad child, and I hate it at the same time. First it is very hard for me to ask for help, I feel like my kids are my responsibility and asking for help is like saying I can't do this, and I hate feeling like I can't do something. Second, while my child is away, I wake up without the dread of getting up and facing all that I know I will be facing. See when you are raising kids from hard places, you know the day is going to be filled with button pushing, so you have to wake up with your game face on and once your feet hit the floor, your day is a tornado of emotion and stress, and constant thinking ALL DAY. Then you get into bed, and say I survived this day.  While my child is away, I realize how many resources are pooled into caring for her throughout the day. I realize that life is not meant to be survived. While I love the respite because it helps me formulate a plan and softens my game face, it also reminds me how hard my day to day is. 

See this picture?

This is what carefree looks like. These kids have a mom is usually occupied caring for their special needs sister, and doesn't have the time or energy to put something into them very often. It's sad but that is my reality. I took these three to see Frozen while Sarah was away at respite today, and I realized this was the first time my four year old has been to a movie theater she was in awe! All three of them were so happy and carefree, a far cry from the day before when the four of us sat comforting each other on the other side of the door as my special needs daughter screamed animalistic tantrums from behind the door. I love all four of my kids, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't question constantly if bringing our Rad child into our family didn't damage the three who were already in the family when she got here. I heard an LDS conference talk recently, that talked about how blessed families are of those children with special needs. I don't feel blessed all of the time, I feel tired and question the why constantly. Someday I hope to feel peace on a daily basis, and not just when we send Sarah away for the day. I am left to think about all of the chaos she creates in our family, and I hurt because I know that this is only a fraction of the chaos this poor kid has been through and cue the guilt....

Why I Have Chosen to Share Our Journey

For too long we have swept the problems of mental illness underthe carpet... and hoped that they would go away. ~ Richard J. Codey

Mental illness is something most people feel ashamed of, they feel that they should be strong enough to handle it on their own. They feel embarrassed or ashamed to share, and that it's no one else's business. Some people just feel like it's a very private thing and they want to handle it quietly. That's fine if you are the kind of person that is ok with it. I however, want my struggle with my daughters mental illness as well as being diagnosed with my own depression and ptsd to be for something. I choose to share our struggle because I want others to know that they aren't weak and destined to suffer. I want to share because someday when I am on the other side of this trial looking back at it triumphantly, I want to advocate for others still in it. I don't want to go through this trial with the weight of shame, as if I had done something to deserve what I am dealing with. While some may look at it as me attention seeking, that's fine if that's what they choose to do. This is not the attention anyone wants, being second guessed is a horrible feeling especially when no one second guesses you as much as yourself.
My battle is not one that will be fought quietly behind closed doors because when I do that I feel that it sends the message that I believe mental illness should be something we are ashamed of. My daughter did nothing wrong to deserve being abandoned by just about every adult who has ever come in contact with her. My daughter did not send a signal that made her bio mom crave the meth that has damaged her brain to it's very core. I certainly did not anticipate giving my child a family of her own, and home that is forever hers just to be diagnosed with Depression and PTSD, and watch as my husband is diagnosed with Depression and severe anxiety, but I would do it again in a heartbeat because I have learned so much and I will come out on the other side of this better, and I hope that this experience gives inspiration to other families struggling as well as other moms and dads who feel like they are being crushed under the pressure of parenting.

Perfection

“None of us will become perfect in a day or a month or a year. We will not accomplish it in a lifetime, but we can begin now, starting with our more obvious weaknesses and gradually converting them into strengths.” Gordon B. Hinckley

One of the things I have learned throughout this process of becoming a therapeutic parent, is that my need for perfection has become less prominent. After being diagnosed with severe depression in August I stopped caring about what others think so much. When I did that I realized that my need to be perfect made me highly defensive against anything negative others might have to say about me, now I have reached a place where I feel much more secure in who I am. Point out my imperfections and I will probably laugh and tell you a few more, just so that you know you've missed a few. Perfection is just not possible, not for me and not for my family. I am learning that my best is just going to have to be good enough, so I'm not the perfect mom, who is really? I am a bad driver sometimes, I get nervous and feel like I have to drive according to who I am with either too fast or too slow...I will get us there, and I will get us there alive......eventually. I'm not the best cook, but once in a while something magic happens and something turns out perfect. I lose my temper, lose every lid I touch, don't fold laundry very often, my house isn't always clean (or ever sometimes) I forget things, I peel my finger nails and yes I am a little fluffy, those are just my "crazy kid burnout" pounds, I'll get rid of them eventually.  My point is that I am ok with not being perfect, and guess what that means? I am ok if you aren't perfect either, so lets get together look at pinterest and burn a recipe or crochet three arms on a sweater..because we can still be happy eating burnt cookies while wearing our 3 armed sweater.