This is not a light post, and therefore not a light episode. Please be aware as I do not want to hurt others. Pain as I have never felt before. My child is in pain. Cracky is suffering and in turn so am I. This isn’t a light of funny post – it is quite the opposite actually. Heartbroken is the closest term for the pain I am feeling. My child is in crisis, and we are working to heal them from it. Age doesn’t matter. Their pain is due to teen hormones and drama. Kindness for me, but none for you. Compassion is not on my radar at the moment. My child suffered a panic attack at the mere thought of being in the same room as their former friend group. Cracky is now homebound in their schooling. I weep for my child. I am utterly helpless.
I am working on survival mode and momma bear is angry. I am in full protection mode. Hurt my child, and my safe space for you has disappeared. Safe space is given until it isn’t. Compassion and kindness have gone out the window, over mere conversation pieces. Did my kid say something wrong? Very possibly, but then who hasn’t? These punks surely have – I saw screen shots. Verbally saying something is one thing, but to type it out, send it with the intent to hurt? Momma bear says fuck you and fuck your need for safe spaces.
Locking meds up due to ideations and planning on my child’s part. It’s heavy now. There is no light and healing in this space today. Hurting.
Momma also feels like a failure that missed potential diagnoses. Diligent parents that missed all the signs. Cracky’s emotional IQ is lower than average and I haven’t given the kindness in gauging that as I have with their brother and his Autism. They are now in need of kindness too; in ways I haven’t seen before because I missed so much. Teens mask so much, especially AFAB teens, the expectations are harder.
When I was 16 and my first ideations and my mother’s response haunt me to this day. Ignoring problems was her go to. I didn’t want to continue living in that space. Depression that reared it’s ugly head. I will carry my child until they can walk with assistance and until they walk without help. New constant worries. New suffering. A new definition of pain. It’s catching a child in a free fall. Why is this hard? Cause no one helped me when I fell at 16, so I am grateful I am the safety net and I can be the one to catch the falling child. My own pain is different and temporary. This I have learned. But watching my kid suffer is new and I don’t know if it’s forever.
Everything is a phase, both good and bad are both phases. Love is in play, some bits of tough love, some bits of kindness. Yet it’s love in play and we have the support system that supports both mom, dad, and little brother and we support Cracky. It’s just shitty season. It will pass, I keep saying that to myself. One breath at a time. One deep, steady, heavy breath at a time.