This morning was a horrible morning. I wasn't sure if I needed to bust out in prayer or have an exorcism. Maybe both.
Lil P was in rare form. Okay - not really all THAT rare I guess when I think about the past few weeks. She was so angry. Last night she knew what she was wearing to school today. She has a milkshake bet going with her principle over the Ravens vs. Steelers game this weekend. Her plan was to wear Daddy's Jersey. She even tried on everything last night - knew she looked good and so we were set. Or so we thought.
This morning was filled with yelling, throwing, slamming, smart mouthing, and pure hatred of everything possible. Nothing was right, fair, or helpful. I will spare all the details, cause I don't care to relive them. The hour of my morning that felt like a week long tirade.
Big sis was headed out the door to the bus and Lil P was still half naked, ranting about the injustice that is her life. Fortunately for her Hubs was teleworking today and was willing to take her to school. If it had been left up to me, I don't think I would have been mentally stable enough to deal with her in a confined space and with all the Northern VA drivers. It would have ended poorly.
As soon as she left the house I grabbed the dog, and we took a very long walk. I cried, I screamed in my head, I may have even growled. I felt so frustrated, alone, and helpless. I was asking God why? Was this as good as things were going to get? Was it not bad enough I grew up with being yelled at and made to feel less than adequate, now I have a child that evokes these same feelings? After a few minutes I thought about a dear friend of mine. She also rides the roller coaster of the special needs circus. She is always positive, always can be a voice of reason, and yet she can truly understand that my heart loves Lil P beyond words even when I feel anything but love. It took about an hour, but she pulled me away from the cliff. While our daughters deal with different things, the emotions are the same for us.
So why the title for this blog?
While I was talking with her about some of her own situations. I had a revelation. I feel like the wicked step mother. I'm not. I gave birth to Lil P. However, no matter what I do or don't do, it's wrong. At one point this morning I was sitting on her bed. She started to change her clothes (again) and I looked at the ground. I was careful to not make a sound, just diverted my eyes. Lil P watched me like a hawk. She immediately barked. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT?" I told her I was just respecting her privacy and looking at the ground while she changed. That if I looked at her, she would yell at me. If I left the room, she would yell at me. If I started picking up the closet worth of clothes that she hates, she would yell at me. So, I thought the safest thing for me to do was simply look down. Turns out I was wrong. Shocker.
This must be what Step mothers go though. No matter how much they love their child, no matter how much they try... they are still wrong. They are still cast aside and treated like trash.
I'd like to think that I no longer take it personally, and I do feel rather numb to it in the moment. But my "phone a friend" pointed out to me that I do still take the words personally, at least on a subconscious level.
We teach our kids that words are hurtful. We use the visual 'words are like toothpaste, once they are squeezed out, you can't put them back in'. The Bible reminds us over and over about how we are to use our tongue, 'to praise, not to teardown'. Lil P hurts me. She breaks my heart in pieces. I know that she doesn't truly feel what she is saying - that she says those things because of deeper issues she has. I try to let the words roll, and I think in the moment I have come a long way. But in the moments after I am broken. When she is calm, she apologizes. She tells me she loves me, and that she is sorry for treating me badly. But while she is at school today, my heart is shattered. This was my last interaction with her today. One of anger, and broken heartedness.
Here's to a better evening. We are supposed to celebrate a birthday tonight. I wish I could feel like this will all go well, but I know something will go wrong, and that will be our 'normal'.