Wednesday, September 16, 2009


On Monday I went into DT’s office, armed, poised, and ready for a fight. Wait…that’s not accurate. I was there to start a fight. Tough girl was out and she was fuming over the drastic change (yes, from over a year ago -she has a hard time letting things go – on guard 24/7 searching for any grain of perceived breach of trust or abandonment. And this change…to her…was abandonment. PAG had printed both emails and threw them on DT’s desk, her “proof” that DT didn’t care! DT remained calm and reminded PAG of her erratic behavior (self destructive behavior, suicidal, drinking), and the phone call at 1am telling PAG to either call DT and *promise* to keep herself safe until the morning when they could meet and come up with something more formal, or, if PAG chose not to call, DT would call 911 for her. (How nice of her!) PAG emerges again and again, still, over a year later, throwing this change up in DT’s face…again and again.

Monday was no different. DT told PAG to tell her how angry she was…and PAG screamed it out (like I can’t believe the upstairs tenets didn’t come to check on DT’s safety she was so loud). And the anger that emerged was really NOT about DT but more about the inability to tolerate the 5 year old. PAG screamed that 5 year old is a DFWC and she HATES her and will never accept her.

Then 5 year old bursts into tears (baby!)…fear, pain, sadness…physically hurting she moved fro the couch to the floor, rocking and freezing cold…sobbing but unable to speak. DT had a blanket and 5 year old wrapped up in the blanket and even though it felt safer, it was not safe enough. Still scared…still hurting….can’t talk. Still! No one will let her talk. She just sobs and rocks. There was this enormous internal struggle because when DT sat down on the floor too, she asked if the distance was okay – and 5 year old wanted DT to sit next to her, not touch her – but close enough for her to feel safer. But PAG wouldn’t allow it. DT talked, but no one heard much of what she said.

And I hate that because it feels like such a waste. I just end up leaving the office all disheveled and achy and tired and I have no idea what she even said. And it’s that 5 year old’s fault. And that’s what I told DT tonight. It’s her fault. Because if she would pull it together and not be such a whiny crybaby – this wouldn’t be an issue!

TO DT: She gets to sit and cry for 45 minutes and then I have to clean up her mess and try to act normal when the bell rings! And that makes me hate her. And tonight I’m pissed…so let me just puke it out there – and pardon me for not painting it like a flower – although I’m sure that would shock the hell out of you if I did. I recognize that I do have the right to remain silent, however, tonight, I lack the ability. I hate her and wish she was never born! She’s stupid and weak! And if she would have done something about it- unstead of ‘rolling over and taking it’ then none of this would exist right now! And don’t go there with your, “not her fault, BS…she was a child…none of this was her fault…” Because I’ve heard it all and I already KNOW that! And now the pain and shame are killing me and it’s her fault. Maybe not her fault but why does she get to “demand” to be heard? That’s not fair! I don’t want to “hear” her! But it’s not fair to lock her away either – that doesn’t help any of us. What does that leave? “Face it, deal with it, move on?” That seems easy enough, doesn’t it? If you shrug your shoulders while you say it fast, it just rolls right off your tongue. So easy to say, simple, really…but an unattainable goal! See, if I accept her, I accept him, and what he did. And I accept that people look away while adults fuck kids and hurt them and no one cares and no one stops it. And I won’t accept that! I won’t accept her! She is not free to move in here ~ there’s no vacancy, no room for rent. She is not me! I resent that she spends an hour crying in DT’s office and I can’t even talk! And then I have to pull it together, push her away, grab my bag and my sunglasses and walk out into the sunshine like everything is grand! Yes, DT – it is just that easy – just snap your fingers & wave your magic wand – and *POOF* she’s gone. Maybe next time, birds can gently place my jacket on my shoulders while you sing, “A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down…” as you expect me to just “BE IN CHARGE” as you sweep me out the door like the dirt that SHE is! It isn’t fair! I am NOT her! She is NOT me! And it is NOT fair!

DT said: I don't expect or want you to "paint it like a flower." What you say and feel here is real, valid and understandable. You do not have to "be all of her", esp. right now. You don't have take on all of what she represents to you. Absolutely it makes sense that she also represents all of what "he" did and the thought that if you "accept" her, you have to accept him. This is an understandable conclusion, but one that with time you will slowly grow to differentiate. You don't have to accept all of those words that he implanted into her/your brain. You are not all those things that he called you or those things that he did to you. Yes, you will need to continue to explore the possibilities of viewing the world in a manner that is not all bad and dangerous, but certainly worthy of caution, attention and self advocacy. In all this, I hear the adult/parent voice saying how unreasonable this is and that it is so unfair to you. I also hear the child finally figuring out that she can yell, cry, protest and test the realities of her current safety and acceptance. She too will have to gain frustration tolerance and patience as you remind her that the world does not totally revolve around her wants, grievances and intense emotions. Grace, you are negotiating all this with courage and persistence. You are strong, while feeling weak and ineffectual. You are doing the best that you can and I realize that this often this doesn't feel like enough. As the song you gave me on a CD awhile ago says...."something inside so strong..... “Holding in spirit your pain and frustration...DT.

How the hell can I be so pissed off at her on Monday and love her so much today? ... Oh, that’s right, I’m crazy!

1 comment:

  1. Nope. Sorry. Not crazy. You know who was crazy, don't ya? Yep. That's right. The man whore. A disgusting pig.