Monday, October 21, 2013

"What feeling bad is for" The country song version.

Do you ever feel like your life , or day, or week would make one kick @$$ country song?
Seriously, all this crap about broken hearts, keying cars, and being broke and these people don't even parent special needs kids?
I guess we can all chock it up to the grand “human experience”?


In the last couple of weeks, we have had a house flood (bathtub left on by a sick kid), food poisoning (hence the sick kid), car trouble ( one child purposely leaving an interior light on in the car consistently and frying the battery), oven fire,financial struggles.
Our pets head are falling off....
Well, not really , but our pug Penelope is very fortunate to be alive after her electric fence collars battery fell out, and she went chasing cars, and caught one, literally, with.her.face.

If that isn't fodder for one sad country song, I don't know what is.

Yesterday was another really rough go at church. As if finding 20 matching shoes isn't reason enough to not want to go, a struggling child sabotaging the morning and not being regulated enough to go to her own Sunday School class is just icing on a very large poo-cake.

Yesterday while seven other siblings were happily dropped off to class, one child didn't want to keep their clothes on, or walk, if breathing in and out had been optional, they wouldn't have done that either.

As they tried to claw and bite and we sat enjoying the fall breeze on the church stairs, beautiful echo's of “I hate you”, “ You are the worst Mom ever”, “My birth mom shouldn't have died, YOU SHOULD BE DEAD” carried whimsically on the fall wind, like the multi colored leaves floating by.
It's called frigin' imagery people.

Once calmed, we tried sitting in the foyer, hands being held.
Each time an attempt was made to causally pinch, or scratch me, I would kindly, but firmly say, “No, you may not hurt me.” This was said in front of other people in the Foyer. Consistently repeated, until the secrecy of their hurtful, sneaky behavior was no longer a secret, or something they wanted to continue to do.

Later that evening, there was a meltdown, a conglomerated interpretative dance and wailing of all things “feeling bad” related.

Once the demon was exercised, we had an opportunity to process some big feelings.
One of which was “Feeling bad, and so sorry for hurting mom, and fighting, and stealing the youngest's food and being mean.” Also the feeling of embarrassment was vocalized when Mom said, “You may not hurt me', telling there bad behavior secret.

I was gentle and explained, keeping hurting secrets, where one person is allowed to hurt another, is not safe for anyone, and in our home hurting secrets will not be kept. Not out of shame, out of safety.

A loud wail erupted as a volcano of  SHAME came tumbling through her lips.
“I feel bad that I hurt you, I feel bad that I was so mean today. I am a really bad, no good, rotten awful ugly kid that no one should like, I hate me, I wish I had never been born. You shouldn't love me, or be nice to me, because I ruin everything.”

And that is the shame folks, the everlasting seepage of how no matter what she feels unworthy, incapable of good, and destined to live up to her definition of herself.

It hurts my heart each time, to witness this much self hate in such a small fragile person.
Tiny humans hold more pain that we can understand possible.

And so we broke down “Feeling Bad” tore “feeling bads” face off and ripped it into little digestible shreds.

One of the myths our kids tell themselves is “I do bad things, I feel bad, because I AM UNDENIABLY TO THE CORE BAD.”
Man to feel that way about yourself all of the time, and anytime you mess up, trip up as humans do, it is a manifestation of what a screw up  you already believe yourself to be. Gez that has to suck.

I said to her, “Baby girl, I think I need to help you understand “Feeling Bad”, will you let me help you?”
She looked at me like I was retarded, she is sort of right, she does have a PHD on the subject.
However, she shook her head “yes”.

Sweetness, “Feeling Bad” is not wrong. “Feeling bad is a safety boundary built into our brains and bodies.”

Sniff,”It is?”

“Yes, just like if Mom warned you to be careful around a hot oven burner, and you still touched it and burned your hand. Would that make you a BAD KID or a HURT KID?”

“Both, bad, because I didn't listen and hurt, cuz burns hurt.”

'Sweetie, just because you didn't listen and got hurt, doesn't make you bad, it wouldn't be a great choice, because the consequence would be a hurt hand. But the next time the burner was on would you touch it?”

“No, cuz I got hurt.”

“Exactly, and that is how “Feeling Bad” is supposed to work in our brains. Feeling Bad, because we made some rough behavior choices is good, it is really telling your brain “EW this FEELS BAD, LETS NOT DO THIS AGAIN.”
That's it, that's what it is built for.
Not, “Because I touched the burner and didn't listen to my Mom, I am a really bad, no good, rotten awful ugly kid that no one should like." It is just there to help you not want to repeat the behavior over again.

She looked at me like I had three heads.
“Wait a minute, feeling bad, is good, like a Stop sign in my brain?................. but not when I let it make me feel bad about me, that's not what that feeling is for?”

“EXACTLY!
The burner was hot, and you should remember not to touch it again, because it hurt, that is ALL “I feel bad” is supposed to do to you. Really “I feel bad” is built into your brain to protect you, not beat you up on the inside. That beating up on the inside is called shame, and shame is a sick, dirty, mean cousin of 'Feeling Bad”. (Now if that isn't a song lyric)
Honey, big people that haven't had as much hard in their lives as you have, confuse what “Feeling Bad”is supposed to do, and invite shame in to beat them up all of the time. We are pretty lucky to know the difference, don't you think?”

A light clicked on, so tonight, when I am “feeling bad” about hurting you at church and throwing a fit, really it is my brain telling me, I don't want to do that again, not that I am a terrible kid?”

“Yes sweetheart, that is exactly what your brain was trying to tell you with the “I feel bad”.

A smile crept out on her face.

I think there were little fireworks going off in her brain, maybe the 'Annie' soundtrack background music of “The sun will come out tomorrow.”

"Honey this new tool isn't easy, you know the song 'Stop in the name of Love' ?With the  hand motions and everything that we sing?"

Giggle,"Yes".

"Well, sometimes you are going to feel bad for a choice, it happens to everyone, but now you know, you can ask that "feeling bad" thought what it is trying to protect you from doing again, and NOT let his cousin Shame, the one that tells you the mean lies about yourself in. And if that naughty cousin tries to show up and tell you mean lies about what kind of bad kid you are...SING THAT SONG, and remember what "feeling bad's" job really is, O.K.? "

"O.K. Mom, and Mom? I think I really needed to know this a long time ago, but I am glad you told me now."

"Me too sweetie, me too."

"STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE, BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART, THINK IT ALL OVER,
THINK IT ALL OVER."

Note: Singing this song, with a country twang while jumping on the trampoline with tutu's, makes all the difference.

Think it all over.


Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Boobs and Brains #stigma

This week is Mental Heath Awareness week, as well as ADHD awareness month. October 10th, tomorrow is National Depression Screening Day.
Between having a husband that works in the Mental health field, and parenting live specimens. I have thought a lot in the last 4 years about the stigma awareness brings.

I have written about it.
Actively trying to normalize, honestly speaking about my and my children's challenges without shame, without fear, openly.

Last night I was bundled up watching the boob tube with my fella, kids all in bed, it was a 1940's drama, one of the characters recently returning from the war.
He was having delusional visions, flash backs and being triggered by fire works.
In the show they called it combat fatigue. Recommending a month of drug induced sleep so his brain could sleep.
GOOD CRAP doesn’t that sound delicious?
Really much of it was, they didn't know WHAT to do with these soldiers coming home broken, society didn't except them, and resources were nil to nothing. Almost 70 years later, are we doing much better?

More is known about trauma, ADHD, and mental illness, more medications, and therapy are available than ever before. But still the stigma clings to the not talking about it.

October is also Breast Cancer Awareness month. I see pictures of pink ribbons, reminders to self check my Bazzombas, commercials, hell even football players are wearing pink, and HOLY CRAP yeah, that is awesome! But my question is , when did it become more socially acceptable to talk about Boobies more than Brains?

I have amazing friends overcoming Breast Cancer. I see adorable pictures of kids holding up signs saying “last chemo treatment”. All make me cheer, my chest tighten with empathy and eyes burn with tears, because we are human and over coming suffering is something we all can relate with.

But when it comes to one of the most common obstacles? Depression, bi-polar disorder, anxiety, conduct disorders as a result to trauma, and ADHD? Very, very little.
There is still so much shame, and embarrassment attached.

My friends that have kids overcoming their last chemo treatments should be able to stomach their friends with kids who's wrists are healing from attempted suicide . They are the same. They are both frightening , possibly terminal issues. Hard is Hard.

Kids that break their legs and have adorable colorful casts posted on face-book, may never know the pain of the seven year old that wishes she could die, because she had a bad day and was called ugly at school, or worse, nothing happened and organically she just feels this way.

All of this has a voice.

Am I asking for you to walk a picket line? Wear a T-shirt that says “It's cool to be depressed” or post descriptive issues you are not comfortable on face-book ?

Nope.

Facebook post A:

Photo: Math with Gage often looks like this. Begins with jumping up and down while answering questions,  next he will sit on the stool, backwards, upside down...or stand on it , bending down to click on his answers.
Sometimes he needs laps around the house in between lessons.
Today he was standing on his head.
"Hey buddy whatcha doin?"

"Sometimes when I do math my brain falls into my butt, so I have to stand on my head to get it back to my head, thats a for reals problem mom, right? Does your brain ever fall into your butt?"

"All the time son, all of the time, and it is a for reals thing...just ask our Congress." ;)
#ADHDhomeschoolin
"Math with Peanut-butter often looks like this. Begins with jumping up and down while answering questions, next he will sit on the stool, backwards, upside down...or stand on it , bending down to click on his answers.
Sometimes he needs laps around the house in between lessons.
Today he was standing on his head.
"Hey buddy whatcha doin?"

"Sometimes when I do math my brain falls into my butt, so I have to stand on my head to get it back to my head, thats a for reals problem mom, right? Does your brain ever fall into your butt?"

"All the time son, all of the time, and it is a for reals thing...just ask our Congress."
#ADHDhomeschoolin
"


Facebook post B.
My son with a mood disorder was raging in his room and I posted this:
"Scooby is in his room, jumping on gis bed, trying to calm down listening to his Neil Diamond CD cranked all the way up, singing "Love Potion number 9", belting it.

You can't train that kind of awesomeness, it is magically in his bones.
#lovethatkid
"

and my favorite:
Photo: Rough night of low blood sugars and night terrors over here. (Weather changes do weird things)
Mable May ( our Saint Bernard puppy) came in with me at 2 a.m. and wouldn't leave his side to go back to her bed.
This is what I found at 5:30 a.m. after another blood sugar check. 
#canyouhearmyheartexploding
♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥

Facebook post C:
"Rough night of low blood sugars and night terrors over here. (Weather changes do weird things)
Mable May ( our Saint Bernard puppy) came in with me at 2 a.m. and wouldn't leave his side to go back to her bed.
This is what I found at 5:30 a.m. after another blood sugar check.
#canyouhearmyheartexploding "
♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥



I am asking you to open your mind, actively not shudder, shy away from or think someone is over sharing when they talk about mental illness. Walk into the thought, turn it over and ask why it makes you feel uncomfortable, question and make peace with it. That is how we slowly change a Stigma, by asking the feelings questions.

How can pictures of breasts with pink ribbons (which I have not an issue in the world with) not be considered an over-share, yet someone saying they are feeling depressed, or worried about their Bi-polar daughter considered an over-share,and something that should be 'private'.

So for me this month...I am going to Actively and honestly share about our, ADHD, trauma, mood disorder, eating disorder, conduct disorder, depression, anxiety, mental health stuff....in real, beautifully messy ways.
That is how I am going to celebrate October.
Bring on the Boobies and Brains I say!

<3