Kids, Aspergers, ODD……. and booze………….

Man……. I was the kind of exhausted tonight when I came home that I could have fallen through the door and passed out stone cold on the couch. If I didn’t have kids that is. I raced to school holiday program and collected the girls as I felt pretty shitty, and knowing that today had been Rubes first day there since we went last Monday for the girls to “meet” with their new school holiday program ladies….. which went so well as she clearly told me very loudly when we arrived that she was not impressed by it, right in front of them…..and that is looked dead shit boring…..! Awesome start to the year. She loved her old place, but all the kids were rough as guts and Poppy just felt bullied there, and of course most of the kids she felt bullied by were Ruby’s mates. So Poppy’s happy, and Ruby not so much….. can’t win them all. It’s getting harder and harder to get them there…..Little do they know that I need to work more hours not less, and next holidays will be more days in care…… if only I could afford a Nanny! I wrote in my blog the other day (not one that I shared on Facebook) that I was starting to get the mega meltdowns that Trenton and I used to get, that seem to come at this time of year every year were she howls and screams, smashes herself in the face, kicks walls and abuses me begging me to not send her back to the same school again where everyone hates her. (Everyone doesn’t hate her, but she’s still yet to hold a friendship down for very extended period of time…….) Damn I wish those bitchy girls at school understood Rubes disability, cause if they could take a walk in her shoes for a day or two, they would realise just how hard it is to be her in the first place. Kids can be so cruel. And I guess I can’t blame them, I find it hard enough to wrap my head around it and I live with it 24/7. Tonight Rubes screamed at me to call someone to take her away so that she would not get up in the night and kill herself. She had a knife to her wrist and she begged me to let her do it….. Of course being a hypochondriac she cannot hurt herself as she’s terrified of even a tiny amount of pain…… but it’s gut wrenching to watch, and I know when she says it what she’s really wanting is just to be out of her body for five minutes to have a break from the mega anxiety, OCD tendencies, inappropriate things that come out of her mouth…. and just a great lack of control with the things that she says and does in general. It’s horrendous….. I mean I know what it felt like after Trent died to want to escape your body. That’s where the booze came into for me. It was the closest thing to getting a “time out” from my pain, suffering and horrible flashbacks that I could get. So get it I did. What can an eleven year old kid get? There is no time out from her struggles. She may come across as a tough as boots, bloody heartless bitch sometimes, but when I see that other side she so carefully hides from the general public, I realise she is just a kid, trying to deal with the death of her daddy, the re-introduction of a Father she hasn’t had in her life for nine years, and her multiple diagnosis’ that she wishes to God she never copped in the first place. She ran away tonight, and Poppy and I were out the front yelling her name for ages….. she made it nearly to the shops when she realised it was getting dark…. thank God she came back. So I tried to punish her for being snappy and irritable after School holiday program, but her way of retaliation was to have a three year old tantrum, threaten to kill herself and then run away….. hmmmmm it seems I’m not doing something right. Just not sure what to change this time….. am too tired to think about it actually. I begged her to see a psychologist….. but we’ve had such shit experiences in this department that she has well and truly decided they’re all a bunch of twats and they can all get fucked. The last psych appointment we made it to, she had selective mutism for the first half an hour,(Not a word passed her lips for the entire visit actually) then she got a white board marker and started playing hang man to the psycho’s delight! She slowly through a series of games wrote out “I-Will-NEVER-COME-BACK-TO-THIS-PLACE.” Of course the psychologist thought it was a break through… but I knew better. She knows just what to say and when to say it to these therapists. She’s actually playing them like a game, and enjoys it thoroughly…. Sometimes I think “Isn’t it enough we’re all grieving the big man, the best Dad, my best mate…..? Do we really need this extra shit in our lives?” Someone seems to think we got this shit sorted……. I’d love to meet them face to face that’s for sure! I’m done now with the sad things in life…… I want some wonderful things to happen for my girls now thanks, they have had a lifetime of pain in their combined 18 years on earth….. enough is enough already. x

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