Right now, I'm sitting at home, waiting on some counselors to show up. Monday and Tuesday were pretty bad days and the strange symptoms that I've been having are getting worse. I used yesterday to try and find a psychiatrist in the area that would take me fairly quickly, but that didn't work out so well. After I had the thought/urge/voice-tell-me-to just go drive so I couldn't be found, I really realized that I needed some immediate help. I don't like admitting that - I feel like I should just be able to suck it up and deal with this on my own... but at the same time, I'm trying to take care of two people here, not just me! Plus, I couldn't afford to test all of this while watching the pseudo-kids. I really didn't want to know what would happen there. So, last night, I made a phone call. There's this 24-hour mobile crisis center that was referred to me by my police officer friend. I called them and they said that they could send out a counselor right then (they wouldn't be at my house for another hour) or, as long as I was safe, they could send one in the morning. Knowing they wouldn't even make it to my house until at least 9 PM, I opted for this morning. I knew I'd be safe because my husband was home with me and knew what all was going on; plus, we made a safety plan for today.
So now I wait.
And my husband just came home. He told his boss what was going on with me, and so his boss told him to come home and be with me. On one hand, I'm glad to know that he was concerned about me and wants to be here for me. On the other hand, I really didn't want to disrupt his life and make things all difficult and complicated and whatnot. But he came home because he wanted to/he was concerned. I'm trying to remind myself that I didn't ask him to come home, I didn't say "oh, I need you here" ... he did it because he loves me.
True test of unconditional love.
My anxiety is through the roof right now, waiting on these counselors. I'm not sure what's going to happen. This particular crisis team is all for getting through issues like this without hospitalization, although they will take you to the hospital if they see that you absolutely need it. I don't really want to go to the hospital, but at the same time ... I know I'd be safe there.
Just so overwhelmed and confused right now. Guess we'll see what happens.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Questions
So many questions fill my mind: Was this even the right decision? Did I make a poor choice out of hast, out of what I thought was necessity, out of comfort in habits? Am I second-guessing myself for the wrong reasons, for fear of self-sabotage (which I could do professionally), for fear of not being good enough, for fear of 'inevitable' abandonment?
I wonder if I've made the wrong decision... or even, perhaps I made the right decision at the time and it's no longer right anymore. Things have been hard lately. And, of course, marriage IS hard. I knew this from the beginning. But I worry about a lack of growth in our relationship. I worry that we will remain stagnant, never growing, never changing... remaining children that think that playing house is what society expects of us. I worry that finances will always be hard (but that's the case whether or not a person is married). I worry that I will always feel like I'm never doing enough, that we will always argue over "who has it worse," instead of helping each other and relying on each other and wanting to be there for each other. I hate that game that we play....
"My back hurts."
"Well .. why? You didn't do anything today."
"Um .. I did dishes AND laundry."
"And?? I worked my ass off all day. I do manual labor all day, every day. And I don't bitch about my back."
"That may be true, but I have a SPINAL DISEASE. How would like me to fix that, so I don't bitch anymore?"
This game becomes very old, very quickly. Friends tell me that you and I should communicate better. How is that possible though? Surprisingly, we are awesome communicators ... we just never solve anything. Communicating is talking, listening, and making sure that you understand what the other person is saying. We do that, pretty damn well actually. But just because we understand doesn't mean that we're willing to change. I can tell you over and over that I have anxiety issues and hate being at home by myself. You can repeat in your own words what I've said and have apparently understood it. But you don't care. Communicating doesn't mean that you give a shit. And that bothers me. So many times, you're not willing to compromise. More than once, you have given me the speech of "well, I'm sorry, but that's just the way I am" and tell me that I need to learn to deal with it. And at one time, I thought I could deal with it ... but maybe, just maybe, I can't after all. Maybe I can't deal with everything being on your terms. Maybe I can't deal with the fact that I always worry that telling you about me having a 'bad day' with mental illness will scare you off. Maybe I can't deal with your financial anal retentiveness. Maybe I can't deal with you telling me to just "deal with it" ... no matter what "it" is - my depression, my anger, my anxiety, whatever. Maybe I just can't fucking deal with it.
But then I think about why I married you to begin with. Sure, I'm pretty sure that some it had to do with not wanting to be alone and needing health insurance and carrying your child. But there was more to it than that. I've always loved you. I fell in love with you the day that I met you. You've ultimately been a good man to me, even when you, yourself, thought that you would give up. You've been there for me through virtually everything, even when you weren't sure how to be there for me. You'd ask questions, give advice, and just hold me. You've been such a good friend to me. And I did love you once. I was madly, deeply in love with you. And I still love you, in some regard. I love you as someone who has given up a lot for me. I love you as someone who has loved me with everything you have, giving unconditional love. I have this strong feeling, though, that my fear of being alone, my desperate desire to be loved, and my comfort in knowing you were driving factors in my acceptance of your proposal. It was comfortable. I've known you since high school and you, essentially, haven't changed much since then. I'm not sure that I have either. You were my fall back ... someone that I knew would love me no matter what. I mean, we were each other's first loves, after all. How could that not be 'right?' I always told myself that I could never fall out of love with you. But now I fear that I was in love with the idea of love. I do truly believe that I loved you, perhaps even was in love with you. And I feel like such a hypocrite because I've always said that if you truly love someone, you can't just fall out of love. "It doesn't happen like that," I would say. "You either love them or you never did to begin with." And that's what I'm struggling with right now. Did I ever love you to begin with? I think I did. I think that I grew to love you deeply ... but as we got older, I was in love with this idea of the couple we used to be. I dreamed of having you fall in love with me all over again, of spending my life with my high school sweetheart, the one that I kept going back to. But I never looked at why we had to keep going back to each other. Why would we break up to begin with? I know it feels like it's way too late to be thinking about this, but I guess better late than never. I've worried about this for a while now, even before we married, but I convinced myself that it was purely pre-wedding jitters. Now, I realize that pre-wedding jitters are more basic concerns: What if it doesn't work out? What he finds someone new? What if I'm not a good wife? But my concerns were much more concentrated. They had meaning behind them, true reason for concern. What if he doesn't grow up? Can I live with things the way they are now? What if things don't change? ... I worry that I expected things to change. I've always consciously said that a person should NEVER go into a relationship thinking that they can change the other. Have I done this anyway? No ... I didn't. I did think these things through, and I did tell myself that we were meant for each other and could get through anything, and that I could live with these things. I think I just may have been wrong.
I'm not sure what to do about all of this .. but at least I know what I truly think, believe, and feel now. Hopefully that will lead in the right direction.
I wonder if I've made the wrong decision... or even, perhaps I made the right decision at the time and it's no longer right anymore. Things have been hard lately. And, of course, marriage IS hard. I knew this from the beginning. But I worry about a lack of growth in our relationship. I worry that we will remain stagnant, never growing, never changing... remaining children that think that playing house is what society expects of us. I worry that finances will always be hard (but that's the case whether or not a person is married). I worry that I will always feel like I'm never doing enough, that we will always argue over "who has it worse," instead of helping each other and relying on each other and wanting to be there for each other. I hate that game that we play....
"My back hurts."
"Well .. why? You didn't do anything today."
"Um .. I did dishes AND laundry."
"And?? I worked my ass off all day. I do manual labor all day, every day. And I don't bitch about my back."
"That may be true, but I have a SPINAL DISEASE. How would like me to fix that, so I don't bitch anymore?"
This game becomes very old, very quickly. Friends tell me that you and I should communicate better. How is that possible though? Surprisingly, we are awesome communicators ... we just never solve anything. Communicating is talking, listening, and making sure that you understand what the other person is saying. We do that, pretty damn well actually. But just because we understand doesn't mean that we're willing to change. I can tell you over and over that I have anxiety issues and hate being at home by myself. You can repeat in your own words what I've said and have apparently understood it. But you don't care. Communicating doesn't mean that you give a shit. And that bothers me. So many times, you're not willing to compromise. More than once, you have given me the speech of "well, I'm sorry, but that's just the way I am" and tell me that I need to learn to deal with it. And at one time, I thought I could deal with it ... but maybe, just maybe, I can't after all. Maybe I can't deal with everything being on your terms. Maybe I can't deal with the fact that I always worry that telling you about me having a 'bad day' with mental illness will scare you off. Maybe I can't deal with your financial anal retentiveness. Maybe I can't deal with you telling me to just "deal with it" ... no matter what "it" is - my depression, my anger, my anxiety, whatever. Maybe I just can't fucking deal with it.
But then I think about why I married you to begin with. Sure, I'm pretty sure that some it had to do with not wanting to be alone and needing health insurance and carrying your child. But there was more to it than that. I've always loved you. I fell in love with you the day that I met you. You've ultimately been a good man to me, even when you, yourself, thought that you would give up. You've been there for me through virtually everything, even when you weren't sure how to be there for me. You'd ask questions, give advice, and just hold me. You've been such a good friend to me. And I did love you once. I was madly, deeply in love with you. And I still love you, in some regard. I love you as someone who has given up a lot for me. I love you as someone who has loved me with everything you have, giving unconditional love. I have this strong feeling, though, that my fear of being alone, my desperate desire to be loved, and my comfort in knowing you were driving factors in my acceptance of your proposal. It was comfortable. I've known you since high school and you, essentially, haven't changed much since then. I'm not sure that I have either. You were my fall back ... someone that I knew would love me no matter what. I mean, we were each other's first loves, after all. How could that not be 'right?' I always told myself that I could never fall out of love with you. But now I fear that I was in love with the idea of love. I do truly believe that I loved you, perhaps even was in love with you. And I feel like such a hypocrite because I've always said that if you truly love someone, you can't just fall out of love. "It doesn't happen like that," I would say. "You either love them or you never did to begin with." And that's what I'm struggling with right now. Did I ever love you to begin with? I think I did. I think that I grew to love you deeply ... but as we got older, I was in love with this idea of the couple we used to be. I dreamed of having you fall in love with me all over again, of spending my life with my high school sweetheart, the one that I kept going back to. But I never looked at why we had to keep going back to each other. Why would we break up to begin with? I know it feels like it's way too late to be thinking about this, but I guess better late than never. I've worried about this for a while now, even before we married, but I convinced myself that it was purely pre-wedding jitters. Now, I realize that pre-wedding jitters are more basic concerns: What if it doesn't work out? What he finds someone new? What if I'm not a good wife? But my concerns were much more concentrated. They had meaning behind them, true reason for concern. What if he doesn't grow up? Can I live with things the way they are now? What if things don't change? ... I worry that I expected things to change. I've always consciously said that a person should NEVER go into a relationship thinking that they can change the other. Have I done this anyway? No ... I didn't. I did think these things through, and I did tell myself that we were meant for each other and could get through anything, and that I could live with these things. I think I just may have been wrong.
I'm not sure what to do about all of this .. but at least I know what I truly think, believe, and feel now. Hopefully that will lead in the right direction.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
For future reference:
Taking a few online tests to screen for a personality disorder. Want to keep this for my next appointment.
Test 1:
Disorder | Rating
Paranoid: High
Schizoid: Low
Schizotypal: High
Antisocial: Moderate
Borderline: Very High
Histrionic: High
Narcissistic: Moderate
Avoidant: Very High
Dependent: Very High
Obsessive-Compulsive: High
Take Free Personality Disorder Test
Personality Test by SimilarMinds.com
Test 1:
Disorder | Rating
Paranoid: High
Schizoid: Low
Schizotypal: High
Antisocial: Moderate
Borderline: Very High
Histrionic: High
Narcissistic: Moderate
Avoidant: Very High
Dependent: Very High
Obsessive-Compulsive: High
Test 2:
Distrust and suspiciousness
Bearing grudges
Unstable and intense relationships
Feelings of emptiness
Suggestibility
Envy
Social inferiority feelings
Need for excessive advice and reassurance
Fear of being left to take care of self
Preoccupation with details
Based on the above answer(s), your personality traits might be associated with following personality type(s):
Paranoid Personality
Borderline Personality
Dependent Personality
Distrust and suspiciousness
Bearing grudges
Unstable and intense relationships
Feelings of emptiness
Suggestibility
Envy
Social inferiority feelings
Need for excessive advice and reassurance
Fear of being left to take care of self
Preoccupation with details
Based on the above answer(s), your personality traits might be associated with following personality type(s):
Paranoid Personality
Borderline Personality
Dependent Personality
Test 3:
| Personality Disorder Test Results
|
Personality Test by SimilarMinds.com
Illnesses...
Well, it's apparent that I've been M.I.A. for a while. There's been a lot going on and, while that should be the time that I'm blogging up a storm, I just haven't found the energy/motivation to blog. Never sure what to write about these days... but since this is completely for me, I think I'm just going to ramble today.
I had my glucose & iron tests done on Monday. I failed both. :-/ I've been dealing with anemia off and on since I was about eight, so that one doesn't surprise me too much. Luckily, I can just take the iron pills that I used to take, and all should be well. I go back next Monday for the more extensive glucose test - the one where I have to drink the whole bottle and test my blood sugar every hour for three hours. I'm not excited about that one, mostly because I have to be at the doctor's office for at least three hours. I'm not too surprised about the results of the glucose test either, mostly because diabetes runs in my family (a lot!) and my mom had gestational diabetes with my sister. Thankfully, because I watched her go through that, I'm pretty aware of how this all works: change your diet, exercise more, and (if necessary) take insulin. It's really not that big of a deal, especially if I only have to do this for the next three months. I know that my husband is concerned about me developing full-blown diabetes after the baby is born, but that's pretty uncommon unless someone is borderline to begin with - and my blood sugar has always tested as fairly normal in the past. I do hope that it can just be controlled with diet and exercise. I will take the insulin if I have to, but the thought of stabbing myself with a needle every day is not appealing... at all.
I've been dealing with some major "mental health issues" over the past week that I'm getting pretty concerned about. I really need to find a new psychiatrist, but with tomorrow being Thanksgiving, I'm probably going to have to wait until Monday to even get in touch with anyone. (I supposed I could make a phone call today and see if they can get me in on Monday though...) At first, I thought my problems were just my bipolar getting a little out of hand. But this is going a bit too far. I'm seeing things in my head that are scaring me ... I'm being told by this voice in my head to do bad things ... and being told that I'm a bad person for things that I've done. Like today, I was texting a friend who had a rough night last night, due to his own personal issues. I suddenly got this feeling that I was an awful person and needed to be punished for not being there for him. He kept telling me it was okay, but I don't feel like it's okay. It's not okay to not be there for someone who needs you - especially when you know that they are in crisis mode. I've been told that auditory hallucinations can be a symptom of bipolar (during mania) but I haven't been feeling manic. I've felt pretty stable actually, minus all of this happening. If anything, I'm closer to depressed than manic. I don't really feel depressed either though ... I just feel unmotivated. I was actually feeling fine when this voice started last Wednesday. I wasn't depressed or anything, and then suddenly, I had someone telling me that I needed to do self-injurous behaviors. Luckily, previous to this week, I haven't had this happen a lot - but it's not the first time. My first hospitalization was technically for 'suicidal ideation' but I wasn't feeling suicidal. I had someone (in my head) telling me to kill myself... and that's the scariest feeling in the world. Over the last week, I've done pretty good about keeping myself in reality, knowing that this voice has no control over me and I don't have to do what it says... but it's getting harder with each day. And the people have come back. A few years, I closed my eyes one night when trying to get to sleep and saw these two people, dressed darkly and having an air of demise. It scared the shit out of me, but I chalked it up to my imagination and tried to get some sleep. Unfortunately, for quite a while, these people didn't go away. I never saw them standing in front of me, but it was like they were faces to a couple of these voices that I've heard. After a couple of years, they went away. I'm not sure why or how, but they did. And now ... actually, as of Thursday or Friday, I think ... they're back. I see them walking around inside my head ... and it's pretty scary. I know that, because I'm pregnant, my options are limited on medication. But I'm probably not going to be breastfeeding because I need to be on good drugs that work for me. I'm also going to get in to see a new psychiatrist and talk about re-evaluating my diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I'm not saying that I don't think I have bipolar, but I'm pretty sure that the diagnosis was given prematurely. The doctor just asked his typical ten questions, making tick marks on yes or no, counted up my answers, and told me I have bipolar disorder. I think there's a lot more that needs to be looked at, though. First, he never discussed whether or not there's a history of trauma in my history (which there is) - and the only difference between bipolar and PTSD is presence of trauma. I now know that I've been having hallucinations off and on for years and didn't know what they were, as well as I've been dissociating for years. My dissociation is now affecting my driving though. No one has ever asked how I function in society (like the fact that I've never been able to keep a job very long, either from depression, lack of motivation, or feeling like I'm going to screw up), or my relationships with other people (such my rocky relationships with everyone around, feeling like they're all going to leave me, etc.). My outbursts of anger, my severe anxiety (separation and otherwise), as well as my debilitating fear of abandonment should all be considered when trying to diagnose someone. It's like the doctor just thought he knew what it was, wanted it confirmed by a few questions, and wrote it down on a piece of paper. He didn't ask all of the questions needed. Sometimes I wonder what some other possible diagnoses might be... schizophrenia? borderline personality disorder? But at the same time, I'm trying so hard to not self-diagnose. It's hard though, because it's in my nature to think that I'm sick all of the time. It's what defines me ... my illnesses have always defined me. They're one of the few things that I can say are mine. I've never really known who I am or what I'm doing or what I think or believe .. hell, I flip back and forth on religions like it's going out of style. But I know that I'm sick. I'm always sick. Even when no one cares, or no one believes me, or no one wants to help me, I still have disabilities. I would love to get on SSDI (social security disability income) but that seems to be damn near impossible. I've applied twice - and both times have let the deadline pass to appeal their denial. I just feel like whenever they deny me, that I'm screwed. I have no choice. There's nothing I can do now. So I suck it up, go back to work, and deal with it.
I'm not even sure what I'm rambling about anymore. I guess that's my cue to get off of here - and probably go make that phone call.
Happy turkey day - gobble gobble!
I had my glucose & iron tests done on Monday. I failed both. :-/ I've been dealing with anemia off and on since I was about eight, so that one doesn't surprise me too much. Luckily, I can just take the iron pills that I used to take, and all should be well. I go back next Monday for the more extensive glucose test - the one where I have to drink the whole bottle and test my blood sugar every hour for three hours. I'm not excited about that one, mostly because I have to be at the doctor's office for at least three hours. I'm not too surprised about the results of the glucose test either, mostly because diabetes runs in my family (a lot!) and my mom had gestational diabetes with my sister. Thankfully, because I watched her go through that, I'm pretty aware of how this all works: change your diet, exercise more, and (if necessary) take insulin. It's really not that big of a deal, especially if I only have to do this for the next three months. I know that my husband is concerned about me developing full-blown diabetes after the baby is born, but that's pretty uncommon unless someone is borderline to begin with - and my blood sugar has always tested as fairly normal in the past. I do hope that it can just be controlled with diet and exercise. I will take the insulin if I have to, but the thought of stabbing myself with a needle every day is not appealing... at all.
I've been dealing with some major "mental health issues" over the past week that I'm getting pretty concerned about. I really need to find a new psychiatrist, but with tomorrow being Thanksgiving, I'm probably going to have to wait until Monday to even get in touch with anyone. (I supposed I could make a phone call today and see if they can get me in on Monday though...) At first, I thought my problems were just my bipolar getting a little out of hand. But this is going a bit too far. I'm seeing things in my head that are scaring me ... I'm being told by this voice in my head to do bad things ... and being told that I'm a bad person for things that I've done. Like today, I was texting a friend who had a rough night last night, due to his own personal issues. I suddenly got this feeling that I was an awful person and needed to be punished for not being there for him. He kept telling me it was okay, but I don't feel like it's okay. It's not okay to not be there for someone who needs you - especially when you know that they are in crisis mode. I've been told that auditory hallucinations can be a symptom of bipolar (during mania) but I haven't been feeling manic. I've felt pretty stable actually, minus all of this happening. If anything, I'm closer to depressed than manic. I don't really feel depressed either though ... I just feel unmotivated. I was actually feeling fine when this voice started last Wednesday. I wasn't depressed or anything, and then suddenly, I had someone telling me that I needed to do self-injurous behaviors. Luckily, previous to this week, I haven't had this happen a lot - but it's not the first time. My first hospitalization was technically for 'suicidal ideation' but I wasn't feeling suicidal. I had someone (in my head) telling me to kill myself... and that's the scariest feeling in the world. Over the last week, I've done pretty good about keeping myself in reality, knowing that this voice has no control over me and I don't have to do what it says... but it's getting harder with each day. And the people have come back. A few years, I closed my eyes one night when trying to get to sleep and saw these two people, dressed darkly and having an air of demise. It scared the shit out of me, but I chalked it up to my imagination and tried to get some sleep. Unfortunately, for quite a while, these people didn't go away. I never saw them standing in front of me, but it was like they were faces to a couple of these voices that I've heard. After a couple of years, they went away. I'm not sure why or how, but they did. And now ... actually, as of Thursday or Friday, I think ... they're back. I see them walking around inside my head ... and it's pretty scary. I know that, because I'm pregnant, my options are limited on medication. But I'm probably not going to be breastfeeding because I need to be on good drugs that work for me. I'm also going to get in to see a new psychiatrist and talk about re-evaluating my diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I'm not saying that I don't think I have bipolar, but I'm pretty sure that the diagnosis was given prematurely. The doctor just asked his typical ten questions, making tick marks on yes or no, counted up my answers, and told me I have bipolar disorder. I think there's a lot more that needs to be looked at, though. First, he never discussed whether or not there's a history of trauma in my history (which there is) - and the only difference between bipolar and PTSD is presence of trauma. I now know that I've been having hallucinations off and on for years and didn't know what they were, as well as I've been dissociating for years. My dissociation is now affecting my driving though. No one has ever asked how I function in society (like the fact that I've never been able to keep a job very long, either from depression, lack of motivation, or feeling like I'm going to screw up), or my relationships with other people (such my rocky relationships with everyone around, feeling like they're all going to leave me, etc.). My outbursts of anger, my severe anxiety (separation and otherwise), as well as my debilitating fear of abandonment should all be considered when trying to diagnose someone. It's like the doctor just thought he knew what it was, wanted it confirmed by a few questions, and wrote it down on a piece of paper. He didn't ask all of the questions needed. Sometimes I wonder what some other possible diagnoses might be... schizophrenia? borderline personality disorder? But at the same time, I'm trying so hard to not self-diagnose. It's hard though, because it's in my nature to think that I'm sick all of the time. It's what defines me ... my illnesses have always defined me. They're one of the few things that I can say are mine. I've never really known who I am or what I'm doing or what I think or believe .. hell, I flip back and forth on religions like it's going out of style. But I know that I'm sick. I'm always sick. Even when no one cares, or no one believes me, or no one wants to help me, I still have disabilities. I would love to get on SSDI (social security disability income) but that seems to be damn near impossible. I've applied twice - and both times have let the deadline pass to appeal their denial. I just feel like whenever they deny me, that I'm screwed. I have no choice. There's nothing I can do now. So I suck it up, go back to work, and deal with it.
I'm not even sure what I'm rambling about anymore. I guess that's my cue to get off of here - and probably go make that phone call.
Happy turkey day - gobble gobble!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Six months & nutrition.
This past Saturday marked six months into the pregnancy. Three more months and I get to meet my little peanut! I'm so excited! I'm also excited about the possibility of sleeping in a normal position, without a huge stomach in my way. This lack of good, restful sleep is making my days feel longer. No matter how tired I am throughout the day, I still don't sleep soundly through the night. I do understand that not too much will change after I have the baby ... 2 AM feedings are not conducive to Mommy getting sleep. I feel like I might get on a better schedule though. There really are so many things that change throughout your body during pregnancy... some of which I could definitely live without. Lactating, really?!?
Yesterday, James had to go to the doctor while babysitting a 14 month old, so I went with him to help watch the baby. It was really good practice, although it made me pretty nervous. With all of my back problems, I was in a lot of pain after helping for just a few hours. It made me worry about what kind of pain I would be in when my own little one arrives. I know that it will be different because it will be my own kid, but I'm still very nervous. What if I'm in excruciating pain one day and don't feel like I can deal with it? I can't just hand my kid over to someone else for the day ... that's why it's MY kid. And since I plan on breastfeeding, I know I won't be able to take pain medication (as I have not been taking during the pregnancy) so I won't have that relief. Sure, I've been able to find small things that help, including a prescription strength topical gel which helps sometimes. I'm just so nervous. I don't want to focus on my health issues, but I truly do have a lot of health problems that make me fear that I will be incapable of being a good mom. I guess it will just be a trial and error process.
I'm not watching the pseudo-kids today as their step-dad is home from work. I hope that this is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the email that I sent to their mom last night. Brief recap: I've been observing Lisa (the 14 year old) over the past few weeks and was concerned about her eating habits. As someone who is in recovery from an eating disorder, I felt that I had reason to be concerned and that the several red flags I saw were just that - red flags. And as her child care provider, I knew it was my responsibility to inform her mom of my concerns. So I did just that via email last night, making sure to carefully word things so that I was not seeming accusing of the mom or that I was trying to diagnose Lisa. I just wanted to make her aware of the situation. Well, the response back was a polite way of saying, "Fuck off, I would know if something was wrong with my daughter." Thankfully I know how to keep my mouth shut, so I decided to drop the subject. It is no longer my responsibility; I've done what I knew to be right. Although, if I was not a decent enough person to drop it, my email would have gone something like this:
Dear woman-who-barely-knows-any-of-her-children,
You are wayyy off base, lady. Your email completely confirmed things that I was already thinking, such as the fact that I'm pretty sure you have disordered eating behaviors yourself and YOU TAUGHT THEM TO YOUR CHILD. You did nothing but make excuses for why Lisa eats the way that she does - when she eats - and you are simply enabling her to continue with these ridiculous habits. You need to break these habits now, before something terrible happens to your daughter. I went ten years with an eating disorder without anyone recognizing that I had a problem... ten years, and not a single teacher, coach, parent, grandparent, or doctor noticed. So don't think that you would "just know" if something was going on with her. Eating disorders are all about secrecy, so you probably wouldn't know. Don't be a dumb bitch. This isn't about you and your parenting skills or lack thereof. This is about your daughter and her health - both physical and mental. Even if this hasn't been going on long, she can still suffer repercussions from this. And if you don't open your eyes and get this in check NOW, she can suffer long-term health problems ... and even die. Quit thinking this is about you, and get your daughter the help that she needs.
Signed,
Been-there,done-that.
[Sigh] I actually feel a lot better after writing that. I know that sending something like this would be asinine and would not help the situation, especially for Lisa, which is why I won't do it. I just really hope that she gets help before she has to end up in the hospital for malnutrition.
Yesterday, James had to go to the doctor while babysitting a 14 month old, so I went with him to help watch the baby. It was really good practice, although it made me pretty nervous. With all of my back problems, I was in a lot of pain after helping for just a few hours. It made me worry about what kind of pain I would be in when my own little one arrives. I know that it will be different because it will be my own kid, but I'm still very nervous. What if I'm in excruciating pain one day and don't feel like I can deal with it? I can't just hand my kid over to someone else for the day ... that's why it's MY kid. And since I plan on breastfeeding, I know I won't be able to take pain medication (as I have not been taking during the pregnancy) so I won't have that relief. Sure, I've been able to find small things that help, including a prescription strength topical gel which helps sometimes. I'm just so nervous. I don't want to focus on my health issues, but I truly do have a lot of health problems that make me fear that I will be incapable of being a good mom. I guess it will just be a trial and error process.
I'm not watching the pseudo-kids today as their step-dad is home from work. I hope that this is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the email that I sent to their mom last night. Brief recap: I've been observing Lisa (the 14 year old) over the past few weeks and was concerned about her eating habits. As someone who is in recovery from an eating disorder, I felt that I had reason to be concerned and that the several red flags I saw were just that - red flags. And as her child care provider, I knew it was my responsibility to inform her mom of my concerns. So I did just that via email last night, making sure to carefully word things so that I was not seeming accusing of the mom or that I was trying to diagnose Lisa. I just wanted to make her aware of the situation. Well, the response back was a polite way of saying, "Fuck off, I would know if something was wrong with my daughter." Thankfully I know how to keep my mouth shut, so I decided to drop the subject. It is no longer my responsibility; I've done what I knew to be right. Although, if I was not a decent enough person to drop it, my email would have gone something like this:
Dear woman-who-barely-knows-any-of-her-children,
You are wayyy off base, lady. Your email completely confirmed things that I was already thinking, such as the fact that I'm pretty sure you have disordered eating behaviors yourself and YOU TAUGHT THEM TO YOUR CHILD. You did nothing but make excuses for why Lisa eats the way that she does - when she eats - and you are simply enabling her to continue with these ridiculous habits. You need to break these habits now, before something terrible happens to your daughter. I went ten years with an eating disorder without anyone recognizing that I had a problem... ten years, and not a single teacher, coach, parent, grandparent, or doctor noticed. So don't think that you would "just know" if something was going on with her. Eating disorders are all about secrecy, so you probably wouldn't know. Don't be a dumb bitch. This isn't about you and your parenting skills or lack thereof. This is about your daughter and her health - both physical and mental. Even if this hasn't been going on long, she can still suffer repercussions from this. And if you don't open your eyes and get this in check NOW, she can suffer long-term health problems ... and even die. Quit thinking this is about you, and get your daughter the help that she needs.
Signed,
Been-there,done-that.
[Sigh] I actually feel a lot better after writing that. I know that sending something like this would be asinine and would not help the situation, especially for Lisa, which is why I won't do it. I just really hope that she gets help before she has to end up in the hospital for malnutrition.
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