HARSH

Hmmm... and we keep moving forward. The last few weeks of January, back at school, have been very up and down. First week was okay, second week was the worst we've had in the past 7 months, and the last week has been better. We were trying to connect the dots about what had pre-empted the terrible week: What changed? what's what what? what? That's what we spend most of our time doing in therapy. slowly un-picking the "what happened" of the past week.
Have you read "The Shock of the Fall"? by Nathan Filer

On the back of the horrible Xmas holidays, I started looking at stuff online. I've also been going through my own personal crisis - wanting to exit, leave the family home, feeling like nothing I do or say is any help. Feeling useless, unappreciated, broken down, hated.
Sometimes I feel like our family is crashing, smashing, disintegrating, falling apart, crisis-ing, imploding, collapsing in very. slow. motion.

This poem and it's corollary were very much on my lips that last January week :

This Be The Verse

By Philip Larkin
 

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   

    They may not mean to, but they do.   

They fill you with the faults they had

    And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn

    By fools in old-style hats and coats,   

Who half the time were soppy-stern

    And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.

    It deepens like a coastal shelf.

Get out as early as you can,

    And don’t have any kids yourself.

Philip Larkin, “This Be the Verse” from Collected Poems. Used by permission of The Society of Authors as the Literary Representative of the Estate of Philip Larkin.

They Tuck You Up

by Adrian Mitchell

They tuck you up, your mum and dad
They read you Peter Rabbit, too.
They give you all the treats they had
And add some extra, just for you.

They were tucked up when they were small,
(Pink perfume, blue tobacco-smoke),
By those whose kiss healed any fall,
Whose laughter doubled any joke.

Man hands on happiness to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
So love your parents all you can
And have some cheerful kids yourself.

(This poem, a response to this one, obviously, was inspired by a broadcaster's attempt to avoid swearing before the watershed when mentioning this poem. It was released online before it was published in any collection, and there seem to be many versions floating round the internet. In any case, it rarely fails to bring tears to my eyes.)

Balance is good. It's nice to see both sides of the coin. I do feel that we fall ONLY into one of them tho', and that is enormously depressing. What can you do or say to make things change ? I have no idea. We are out of options. Out of personal reserves. Out of plans A, B, C, D and E. I don't have a little cat Zee to pull out of my hat. I'm fucked.

I've been in a huge amount of physical pain the last week - I've managed to wrench my neck somehow doing some heavy pulling while training, so my cartilage on my vertebrae is inflamed. horribly inflamed. I've spent days at home, good stints in bed. I've shut everything down. It's been tough with the kids - their little lives continue apace, and mummy being "man-down" doesn't really stand in the way of rugby, football, karate, birthday parties, music practice, school trips, and all the rest of the "must get done's" in their lives. It's further driven me to moments of wanting to just opt out. I have no support - no-one I can turn to support me practically. I have booked the babysitters in for the nights that we cannot miss eg. psychiatrist appointment. But on a day-to-day basis I must soldier on. Regardless.

this is not what I wanted. I want happy times. Times when we laugh together and are happy. there are so, so few of those. We seem to spend so much time screaming at Zack, and him screaming at us. And then us both sitting, late at night, trying to think of new strategies for dealing with his :
. lack of self esteem
. inability to self-moderate
. refusal to comply, follow instructions, stick to the rules
. comfort eating
. need to have a drama about almost everything
. craving for physical touch
. self-loathing after the events
. tantrums in the face of 'boundaries'
. resistance to change
. inability to transition
. insolence, anger, rage and physical aggression
I honestly don't have a fucking clue. I'm just tired. Dog tired.

And to end - I happened upon this website on "parenting strong willed children" by Dr. Laura Markham. And the bit that struck me the most on the parenting tools page, was this item #10 on being HARSH with your children and how it fucks them up. I'm fucked up and I can see a direct causal link. It takes years, decades to fix the stuff that formed me when I was young. I still, at age 43, cannot think that I am worth-ful, have value, should be listened to. I always put myself last, and let people walk all over me, I create the fucked-up relationship that I had with my own mother, in many other relationships, because that's what I "know", and familiar is best when it comes to psychiatry. I hate that. I absolutely hate that.