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Bad day. Good thinking.
In fact I can't even write about it. Suffice to say that my mother's instinct wasn't so far off with Sophie, not quite being sold as a sex slave but it's not the most far reaching scenario.
I am worn out, without reserve.
This time I have to stand behind her and catch her if she falls, I have to whisper in her ear and then push.
I can't carry her, I can't save her.
She has to do it. Feel it, want it, work for it, feel it and DO it.
The first step is that she says she wants it. She wants to stop. I've heard it before.
I told her I love her, she believes me now, I also told her that I have to help her, not do it for her. I will help..when she makes the effort.
I will tell her what she needs to hear, not what she wants to hear.
I will love her and support her but not help her kill herself or lose herself.
I don't know what I could have done, doesn't matter, I didn't do it.
I don't think about how things could have been, they weren't.
I can't change what made her so sad, I do think that it wasn't all me.
I try to show her that where we go NOW matters, what we do NEXT is what counts. We can all wish things were different, they aren't though, are they? Things are as they are, we have to change them or accept them, get on with it or alter it. Go forward.
I wish that there was somewhere to turn. I don't know where to go. Who to see. What to do.
I am one person. Just one ordinary person and yet I have to deal with such exceptional things.
Many people I know have one huge deal, some 'thing' that tests them, something that alters who they are and shapes who they become.
I really don't know anyone else who has faced such a catalogue of disasters. I know this all sounds like melodramatic hysteria and self pity, well so be it, my blog, my party and I'll cry if I want to.
Ha...said I couldn't write about it...liar liar pants on fire ( although that could be the hot water bottle, if I put it on the very bottom of my back it helps the damn restless legs thing)
Sophie is back to drug taking, grey face, ratty hair, musty smell, bad tempered.....a new phase and she came to me again for help, all good signs. What isn't good is that we've been there and done that, here we are again.
I want to shake her until what brain she has left rattles, I want to scream in her face and make her SEE who she is and what she is wasting.
I do see that she is listening. I can believe that this time, the desire is there to change, when we sent her away last time, she was just mad that we stopped her having her 'fun'. Now it's not fun. She is in trouble and she knows it.
I don't want her to die, I can't live for her. She has to live and she has to fight for it. This is what the fight in her is for. From when she was 5 I have told people that I know she has this feisty nature for some good reason that at some stage in her life she was going to have to fight hard for something. This. Is. It.
She has got a fight on her hands and she has to win it. I can't fight for her, I can only stand in her corner and shout her on.
She came into the front room this evening, ready to go out.
I wasn't looking and heard Jordan say " Soph. Did you forget to put your clothes on or what?"
Dear life, she had shorts on that were so short they were shts, the rest got lost somewhere along the way. She had very pale tights on underneath and she went to sit down next to Mel.
Mel reached over and grabbed the tights, ripping one leg right out, Mel said " Whoops!" and Jordan said " oh, shame, now you'll HAVE to get changed"
She took it from them and didn't fight, no shouting.....she'd have raged until the walls caved in if I had done anything like that.
The good news is she went for a job interview today, wore Mel's clothes ( meaning clothes, rather than hankies or bits of string with a square of stretchy stuff somewhere around her boobs but not quite covering them) I will pray that she gets the job, it will help her get out of the rut she is in. It is NOT in a pub or a bar, I will pray HARD that she gets the job.
She likes a boy, who likes her. He works and lives at home, he hates drugs and everything to do with them. She is afraid to like him because he may hate her and make her sad just as she allows herself to like someone. I will pray that he likes her enough to make her believe him, that he likes her enough to stick with it even if she panics, that he likes her enough to make her like herself.
I have told her that she can spend her whole life avoiding good and happy things to avoid being hurt. She will never be happy that way. She surrounds herself with low life, with dark and miserable people and things because she is able, for a nano second to feel superior, then the low life drags her down, so she has to find something lower, darker, more miserable.
If she keeps doing what she is doing, she'll keep getting what she is getting.
I love writing this blog, it is better than therapy, as I write answers come to me and I am beginning to see what I can do.
I think she has to be loved until she can't stand it anymore. I have spent too long trying to teach her and show her, I think somewhere along the line, I forgot to just love her. She has been such hard work. It's so hard to love someone when they are screaming WHORE at you, when they spit and fight, kick and swear. It has been all I can do to not beat the living crap out of her, I have felt almost saintlike for not doing that......to love her in an outward and affectionate way was just too far out of the realms of possibility.
I have been able to love her, openly for a while now. Actually want to kiss her and stroke her face, to say the words. I am ashamed at how she soaks it up, like the littlest of girls she leans in for more. It is probably what she has been yearning for for years, the whole time she spat and hissed, swore and ran away, she probably just wanted to be loved.
While I have been teaching her and setting boundaries, fiercely and relentlessly fighting her cause, battling against my husband on her behalf, speaking with teachers and doctors about her, I should have just been hugging her.
Every slap should have been a stroke.
I am so sorry.
All these years that I thought she should know that I was fighting for her,while she was fighting with me, I forgot to TELL her that I was doing it, I forgot to love her in a way she could see.
She never heard me speak up for her, she heard me tell how difficult she was.
She never saw me battle for her to be treated the same as other kids...she heard me say how different she was.
I have heard for years how hard she had it.....from her, this twisted version of a life none of us could ever recall, until right now....if I look through her eyes I can see what she remembers, I can see why she see things that way.
It's hard to kiss and snuggle with a little girl as she falls asleep when you have spent 6 hours trying to get her to lie down.
It's impossible, most days, to sit and read a book with a child that has spent the last 2 hours charging around the room terrorising her brothers.
It was more than I could manage to be a gentle and loving mummy to a little girl who would talk all the time about how she only wanted a daddy, just a daddy, where's MY daddy? I want my DADDY!
How can you tell a 6 year old that you are happy to be home and hug her, when she headbutted the babysitter and split her lip wide open, while you were gone for 2 hours, at a meeting, heaven help it had been for fun?
How to reassure a 10 year old that she IS still loved and still important when she has kicked and bitten and spat at your new husband, simply because he loves her mum too?
How to convince a 14 year old that even though there will be a new baby, she will still be the only girl and still much loved when she has kicked your pregnant belly and said you should keep your
F*****g legs shut because all you can make is stupid boys?
I am not superhuman, I am just me. Just. Me.
The list could go on, but what for? I see what happened and the challenge now, is to see what can be done. I don't believe it is ever too late to love someone, no-one I have ever known has been beyond loving. Sophie isn't, she is still all but begging for that kind of love that she thinks other people had and she didn't. She has been loved more than she will ever know, but not the way she has longed for. It's time to do some of what she longs for.
I know it, I can see it....but can I do it?
H has said that he's not sure he will ever be able to look her in the face and forget what she has done to this family. I don't blame him, but I wish he could try. I have felt everything for his son that he feels about Sophie, if Rob were to turn up on our doorstep my very soul would scream in fear.
He has said though, that he will not stand in my way as I do what I need to do to help her. That is an enormous step. He is keeping his word, although I can feel his panic when he wakes up and she is here asleep. I am not giving in and I am not going to allow her to live here again. Right now I just have to let her see that I love her and that I want for her to be safe and happy.
Dear Lord, please let me be able to do it right.
I am worn out, without reserve.
This time I have to stand behind her and catch her if she falls, I have to whisper in her ear and then push.
I can't carry her, I can't save her.
She has to do it. Feel it, want it, work for it, feel it and DO it.
The first step is that she says she wants it. She wants to stop. I've heard it before.
I told her I love her, she believes me now, I also told her that I have to help her, not do it for her. I will help..when she makes the effort.
I will tell her what she needs to hear, not what she wants to hear.
I will love her and support her but not help her kill herself or lose herself.
I don't know what I could have done, doesn't matter, I didn't do it.
I don't think about how things could have been, they weren't.
I can't change what made her so sad, I do think that it wasn't all me.
I try to show her that where we go NOW matters, what we do NEXT is what counts. We can all wish things were different, they aren't though, are they? Things are as they are, we have to change them or accept them, get on with it or alter it. Go forward.
I wish that there was somewhere to turn. I don't know where to go. Who to see. What to do.
I am one person. Just one ordinary person and yet I have to deal with such exceptional things.
Many people I know have one huge deal, some 'thing' that tests them, something that alters who they are and shapes who they become.
I really don't know anyone else who has faced such a catalogue of disasters. I know this all sounds like melodramatic hysteria and self pity, well so be it, my blog, my party and I'll cry if I want to.
Ha...said I couldn't write about it...liar liar pants on fire ( although that could be the hot water bottle, if I put it on the very bottom of my back it helps the damn restless legs thing)
Sophie is back to drug taking, grey face, ratty hair, musty smell, bad tempered.....a new phase and she came to me again for help, all good signs. What isn't good is that we've been there and done that, here we are again.
I want to shake her until what brain she has left rattles, I want to scream in her face and make her SEE who she is and what she is wasting.
I do see that she is listening. I can believe that this time, the desire is there to change, when we sent her away last time, she was just mad that we stopped her having her 'fun'. Now it's not fun. She is in trouble and she knows it.
I don't want her to die, I can't live for her. She has to live and she has to fight for it. This is what the fight in her is for. From when she was 5 I have told people that I know she has this feisty nature for some good reason that at some stage in her life she was going to have to fight hard for something. This. Is. It.
She has got a fight on her hands and she has to win it. I can't fight for her, I can only stand in her corner and shout her on.
She came into the front room this evening, ready to go out.
I wasn't looking and heard Jordan say " Soph. Did you forget to put your clothes on or what?"
Dear life, she had shorts on that were so short they were shts, the rest got lost somewhere along the way. She had very pale tights on underneath and she went to sit down next to Mel.
Mel reached over and grabbed the tights, ripping one leg right out, Mel said " Whoops!" and Jordan said " oh, shame, now you'll HAVE to get changed"
She took it from them and didn't fight, no shouting.....she'd have raged until the walls caved in if I had done anything like that.
The good news is she went for a job interview today, wore Mel's clothes ( meaning clothes, rather than hankies or bits of string with a square of stretchy stuff somewhere around her boobs but not quite covering them) I will pray that she gets the job, it will help her get out of the rut she is in. It is NOT in a pub or a bar, I will pray HARD that she gets the job.
She likes a boy, who likes her. He works and lives at home, he hates drugs and everything to do with them. She is afraid to like him because he may hate her and make her sad just as she allows herself to like someone. I will pray that he likes her enough to make her believe him, that he likes her enough to stick with it even if she panics, that he likes her enough to make her like herself.
I have told her that she can spend her whole life avoiding good and happy things to avoid being hurt. She will never be happy that way. She surrounds herself with low life, with dark and miserable people and things because she is able, for a nano second to feel superior, then the low life drags her down, so she has to find something lower, darker, more miserable.
If she keeps doing what she is doing, she'll keep getting what she is getting.
I love writing this blog, it is better than therapy, as I write answers come to me and I am beginning to see what I can do.
I think she has to be loved until she can't stand it anymore. I have spent too long trying to teach her and show her, I think somewhere along the line, I forgot to just love her. She has been such hard work. It's so hard to love someone when they are screaming WHORE at you, when they spit and fight, kick and swear. It has been all I can do to not beat the living crap out of her, I have felt almost saintlike for not doing that......to love her in an outward and affectionate way was just too far out of the realms of possibility.
I have been able to love her, openly for a while now. Actually want to kiss her and stroke her face, to say the words. I am ashamed at how she soaks it up, like the littlest of girls she leans in for more. It is probably what she has been yearning for for years, the whole time she spat and hissed, swore and ran away, she probably just wanted to be loved.
While I have been teaching her and setting boundaries, fiercely and relentlessly fighting her cause, battling against my husband on her behalf, speaking with teachers and doctors about her, I should have just been hugging her.
Every slap should have been a stroke.
I am so sorry.
All these years that I thought she should know that I was fighting for her,while she was fighting with me, I forgot to TELL her that I was doing it, I forgot to love her in a way she could see.
She never heard me speak up for her, she heard me tell how difficult she was.
She never saw me battle for her to be treated the same as other kids...she heard me say how different she was.
I have heard for years how hard she had it.....from her, this twisted version of a life none of us could ever recall, until right now....if I look through her eyes I can see what she remembers, I can see why she see things that way.
It's hard to kiss and snuggle with a little girl as she falls asleep when you have spent 6 hours trying to get her to lie down.
It's impossible, most days, to sit and read a book with a child that has spent the last 2 hours charging around the room terrorising her brothers.
It was more than I could manage to be a gentle and loving mummy to a little girl who would talk all the time about how she only wanted a daddy, just a daddy, where's MY daddy? I want my DADDY!
How can you tell a 6 year old that you are happy to be home and hug her, when she headbutted the babysitter and split her lip wide open, while you were gone for 2 hours, at a meeting, heaven help it had been for fun?
How to reassure a 10 year old that she IS still loved and still important when she has kicked and bitten and spat at your new husband, simply because he loves her mum too?
How to convince a 14 year old that even though there will be a new baby, she will still be the only girl and still much loved when she has kicked your pregnant belly and said you should keep your
F*****g legs shut because all you can make is stupid boys?
I am not superhuman, I am just me. Just. Me.
The list could go on, but what for? I see what happened and the challenge now, is to see what can be done. I don't believe it is ever too late to love someone, no-one I have ever known has been beyond loving. Sophie isn't, she is still all but begging for that kind of love that she thinks other people had and she didn't. She has been loved more than she will ever know, but not the way she has longed for. It's time to do some of what she longs for.
I know it, I can see it....but can I do it?
H has said that he's not sure he will ever be able to look her in the face and forget what she has done to this family. I don't blame him, but I wish he could try. I have felt everything for his son that he feels about Sophie, if Rob were to turn up on our doorstep my very soul would scream in fear.
He has said though, that he will not stand in my way as I do what I need to do to help her. That is an enormous step. He is keeping his word, although I can feel his panic when he wakes up and she is here asleep. I am not giving in and I am not going to allow her to live here again. Right now I just have to let her see that I love her and that I want for her to be safe and happy.
Dear Lord, please let me be able to do it right.
Labels: Hard stuff, sophie
posted by The other me | 11:39 pm
6 Comments:
I'm praying with you, for strength and patience. You'll do it, I have no doubt.
This really is that hard stuff. I can relate to so much of it with Aubrie. Still struggling with her. So hard to just stand back and let her do on her own and not judge her. I hope for you and Sophie that you are better able to do it than I. How sad they can't see what they have to give. How sad they are not confident and secure young women. I hope there is hope for both of them, but you are right in that this is something they must do for themselves. Hang in there and stay strong. I know it is a struggle at this point, but you have help with Jordan and Mel. I will keep my fingers crossed and pray she gets the job too.
Oh Helen! You have such wisdom and clarity! I too pray that some kind of peace can find it's way to Sophie and you as well. Your words are powerful and inspiring!
My heart goes out to you....and to Sophie. Being the Mother you are, I'm certain you will do the right thing and in the right way. If only Sophie can open her eyes to what you are trying to tell her. May God Bless!!!
Helen you have our prayers. I was sophie at one point in my life. I wish my mother was as kind and as paitent as you are. instead she threw me to the wolves. My wake up call was me in a hospital with ivs and told i had to stop or i was going to die. I hope sophie can see that you do love her and always have.. you all have my prayers.
I admire you so much, I really do...
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