I sat there while you spoke to her, trying to figure out if I was really hearing those words. You did not yell. If you had I would have jumped up and blocked her ears. I would have used my body as a shield against the arrow coming at her. But I didn't know until it was too late. Words cannot be gathered up and put back again. They are arrows that sink deeply in the heart. That makes them especially hard to forgive. When they hurt a child, they are hard to forget.
You are an adult. She is a child with mental illness who has been suffering more than she ever has before. Dan and I have been painstakingly rebuilding the house of cards that is her emotional stability. Trying to show her that we love her unconditionally and yet have standards for behavior. Rewarding her progress with praise and encouragement. She was doing well today. Really only two episodes with many hours in between. She was struggling this evening, but she was pulling through. She ate dinner at the table. Do you even know what it took for her to be able to do that? When you asked her to stop saying things over and over, she did. When I asked her to log off the computer, she did. She was frustrated, but she did what she was asked to do with no fighting. That was huge! When she let out a short scream, it was like a pressure valve allowing a burst of steam to escape, so that nothing explodes, so that the situation doesn't become dangerous. She was calming down, when you walked in and spoke your piece..and she went to pieces.
She blames herself. She thinks that if she were never born, you would still be here and we would all be laughing and playing a game together. That we would all be happier without her. She hates herself, wants to die, wants to know why she should keep living. Thinks she can't do anything right. Won't listen to a word I try to say.
Her tears burn my heart. I can't stop the arrows she aims at herself, anymore than I could stop the ones that come flying.
But why? Why do they fill the air over the head of my little girl. She is sick. She doesn't mean to be, she is not manipulating, she is not pretending. Why can't thinking adults just understand that!
Sometimes all I can do is write. When she is finally done for the day, I take all the outrage and pour it through my fingers. I don't have the energy to do anything else with it.