mjhawks
Member
Hi, my name is MJ and I'm new here. Stumbled across your forum while searching how to give up custody of my 16 year old daughter. THAT is how out of hand things are here. And do I have to say "difficult child" or can I just say she's a pain in the ass?
And as I read through some of the post, I was overcome with the urge to cry. I see a lot of hope here, but no real solutions. It's disheartening, to think I may have to be a prisoner in my own home until she turns 18. I also learned, today, that in Virginia I can't just give her up to get her the help she needs.
I am a 40 year old single mom of two girls. I personally grew up in a house where getting beat was a sport. Having lived through hell, I vowed not to raise my children by the belt. I did all the things parents are supposed to do. I even took parenting classes when my oldest was a toddler. I was determined to be a good mom.
I'm an artist, of sorts, and would describe my personality as a free spirit. I would love to spend my days laughing and dancing with my girls. I always wanted to be that parent that they could come to with anything. I wanted them to look back on their childhoods and have fond memories. But living with my oldest daughter has changed who I am to the core.
I call my oldest, 16, DQ, short for drama queen. My youngest is Itty Bit, because she is tiny.
I didn't really notice at the time, but DQ has always been what you guys call a difficult child. She's my oldest, so I had nothing to really compare her too. I thought her behaviors were probably normal for her age. Looking back, I see the warning signs, and it makes the puzzle complete. Being mean to animals, as early as age 2. Stealing, lying, being sneaky. She was never able to follow directions, or act appropriate.
It wasn't until Itty Bit was born, that I started picking up signs of danger. She was 5 when I told her not to pick up my newborn from the baby's secure spot while I ran to get the phone. When I came around the corner 30 seconds later, I see her holding Itty Bit up in the air, under her armpits. When she turned and saw me, she dropped her sister!
DQ's behavior, slowly but progressively got worse. Problems in school, unable to relate to peers. Not following rules at home. We tried some early interventions, such as 123 Magic. That was a joke! I mean it might work for parents of normal kids, but DQ laughed at us. I started to question if maybe I was the crazy one. Maybe I was just expecting too much from her. Not having parented a child before her, I began to think I was the reason she was acting out.
I was married to an abusive man, Itty Bit's dad. I attributed a lot of DQ's behavior to living in a stressful home. So it was with my children in mind that I took out the protective order, and we got away from him. It was at that point that DQ's behavior took a rapid nose dive. Thinking she was suffering through trauma, I started taking her to a therapist. And that is where our fun began.
She has been through 4 different therapist, on countless medications. Taken off all medications. Put back on new medications. Been diagnosed with depression, boarderline bi-polar, bi-polar, ptsd, and ODD. She currently has an in-home therapist who comes 3 days a week for a couple hours at a time. She is on call, and will come to the house if needed. We recently had her re-evaluated and they have diagnosed her DMDD. They are stripping all the other diagnoses and putting her in this group.
Been hospitalized twice for cutting. I'll say at this point, I think her cutting is more for attention and shock value. Once during an argument, when I wouldn't let her go to her grandmothers house, she said to me, "I'm going to cut myself, and it's all your fault." I tried to go on a date once. She called in the middle to say "If you don't come home I might try to kill myself."
She is explosive, defiant, violent, manipulative. She steals, lies, won't follow any household rules. She has run away. Unable to keep friends for more than a few months, because she uses them until they get tired of it.
She has tried to have me arrested for assault. She told her friends her step-dad raped her. Told her therapist I abuse her. They called CPS, but the case was unfounded. She was joyful over the fact that I might lose custody of Itty Bit over the whole thing. She's called me a
and a whore. Told me she can't wait til I die and she won't come to my funeral. Curses out her little sister.
Jesus, I could fill a book with all the incidences that have happened in just the last 3 years. But I get the feeling you guys have been through it all. So I'll just say what happened this week.
Food is a major struggle here. She eats like a machine, with no regard for anything. I had a package of candy hidden in the cupboard. I went to get it and it was gone. I knew who took it, because she takes EVERYTHING. When I asked if she took it she played dumb, saying she didn't even know there was butterfinger in the kitchen. So I'm thinking maybe I'm nuts. Maybe I ate it in the middle of the night. I go and look in the trash and the wrapper is there. So I confront her again. Tell her I know she stole it. Ask her what would she did that and then lie right to my face. She looked at me, shrugged and said, "And? What do you want me to do about it now?"
Her therapist decided she should replace the candy with her own money. She took DQ to the store. When DQ saw that I had eaten some of the replacement, she said to me, "You're welcome." My jaw hit the floor. I was livid. Holding my own anger in is becoming a problem for me. I really wanted to punch her.
A couple days later, DQ was upset about not getting her way. I've learned not to engage her. I give her my response, one time, and then I do my very best to ignore the impending explosion. Over the weekend, after a 20 minute tirade didn't get a response from me, she said "You're really pissing me off. Don't make me come over there!" I lost my grip on reality at that point and started laughing. Just laughing at the absurdity of the situation. She actually threatened me twice this weekend.
I may be forced to put up with her in my house until she's 18. I have to live with her stealing my stuff, torturing her sister, eating all the food, smoking weed, drinking, screaming and all other manners of carrying on. But I can tell you, if she comes at me, I will take her down. She outweighs me by 50 lbs and looks over the top of my head. But I'll be damned if my own child is going to physically hurt me, for any reason.
And this is where we are today. I'm a broken shell of a person. I'm angry at the system because I can't protect Itty Bit from growing up in a house like this. I'm exhausted from research, Dr. appointment, fighting and sleeping with one eye open. I spend a lot of time trying to anticipate her next move. I wonder when she will escalate and try to stab me in my sleep. I am not joking when I say she will probably be diagnose sociopath as an adult.
My Name is MJ. I'm the parent of a pain in the ass, and I have no say in the matter.
And as I read through some of the post, I was overcome with the urge to cry. I see a lot of hope here, but no real solutions. It's disheartening, to think I may have to be a prisoner in my own home until she turns 18. I also learned, today, that in Virginia I can't just give her up to get her the help she needs.
I am a 40 year old single mom of two girls. I personally grew up in a house where getting beat was a sport. Having lived through hell, I vowed not to raise my children by the belt. I did all the things parents are supposed to do. I even took parenting classes when my oldest was a toddler. I was determined to be a good mom.
I'm an artist, of sorts, and would describe my personality as a free spirit. I would love to spend my days laughing and dancing with my girls. I always wanted to be that parent that they could come to with anything. I wanted them to look back on their childhoods and have fond memories. But living with my oldest daughter has changed who I am to the core.
I call my oldest, 16, DQ, short for drama queen. My youngest is Itty Bit, because she is tiny.
I didn't really notice at the time, but DQ has always been what you guys call a difficult child. She's my oldest, so I had nothing to really compare her too. I thought her behaviors were probably normal for her age. Looking back, I see the warning signs, and it makes the puzzle complete. Being mean to animals, as early as age 2. Stealing, lying, being sneaky. She was never able to follow directions, or act appropriate.
It wasn't until Itty Bit was born, that I started picking up signs of danger. She was 5 when I told her not to pick up my newborn from the baby's secure spot while I ran to get the phone. When I came around the corner 30 seconds later, I see her holding Itty Bit up in the air, under her armpits. When she turned and saw me, she dropped her sister!
DQ's behavior, slowly but progressively got worse. Problems in school, unable to relate to peers. Not following rules at home. We tried some early interventions, such as 123 Magic. That was a joke! I mean it might work for parents of normal kids, but DQ laughed at us. I started to question if maybe I was the crazy one. Maybe I was just expecting too much from her. Not having parented a child before her, I began to think I was the reason she was acting out.
I was married to an abusive man, Itty Bit's dad. I attributed a lot of DQ's behavior to living in a stressful home. So it was with my children in mind that I took out the protective order, and we got away from him. It was at that point that DQ's behavior took a rapid nose dive. Thinking she was suffering through trauma, I started taking her to a therapist. And that is where our fun began.
She has been through 4 different therapist, on countless medications. Taken off all medications. Put back on new medications. Been diagnosed with depression, boarderline bi-polar, bi-polar, ptsd, and ODD. She currently has an in-home therapist who comes 3 days a week for a couple hours at a time. She is on call, and will come to the house if needed. We recently had her re-evaluated and they have diagnosed her DMDD. They are stripping all the other diagnoses and putting her in this group.
Been hospitalized twice for cutting. I'll say at this point, I think her cutting is more for attention and shock value. Once during an argument, when I wouldn't let her go to her grandmothers house, she said to me, "I'm going to cut myself, and it's all your fault." I tried to go on a date once. She called in the middle to say "If you don't come home I might try to kill myself."
She is explosive, defiant, violent, manipulative. She steals, lies, won't follow any household rules. She has run away. Unable to keep friends for more than a few months, because she uses them until they get tired of it.
She has tried to have me arrested for assault. She told her friends her step-dad raped her. Told her therapist I abuse her. They called CPS, but the case was unfounded. She was joyful over the fact that I might lose custody of Itty Bit over the whole thing. She's called me a
and a whore. Told me she can't wait til I die and she won't come to my funeral. Curses out her little sister. Jesus, I could fill a book with all the incidences that have happened in just the last 3 years. But I get the feeling you guys have been through it all. So I'll just say what happened this week.
Food is a major struggle here. She eats like a machine, with no regard for anything. I had a package of candy hidden in the cupboard. I went to get it and it was gone. I knew who took it, because she takes EVERYTHING. When I asked if she took it she played dumb, saying she didn't even know there was butterfinger in the kitchen. So I'm thinking maybe I'm nuts. Maybe I ate it in the middle of the night. I go and look in the trash and the wrapper is there. So I confront her again. Tell her I know she stole it. Ask her what would she did that and then lie right to my face. She looked at me, shrugged and said, "And? What do you want me to do about it now?"
Her therapist decided she should replace the candy with her own money. She took DQ to the store. When DQ saw that I had eaten some of the replacement, she said to me, "You're welcome." My jaw hit the floor. I was livid. Holding my own anger in is becoming a problem for me. I really wanted to punch her.
A couple days later, DQ was upset about not getting her way. I've learned not to engage her. I give her my response, one time, and then I do my very best to ignore the impending explosion. Over the weekend, after a 20 minute tirade didn't get a response from me, she said "You're really pissing me off. Don't make me come over there!" I lost my grip on reality at that point and started laughing. Just laughing at the absurdity of the situation. She actually threatened me twice this weekend.
I may be forced to put up with her in my house until she's 18. I have to live with her stealing my stuff, torturing her sister, eating all the food, smoking weed, drinking, screaming and all other manners of carrying on. But I can tell you, if she comes at me, I will take her down. She outweighs me by 50 lbs and looks over the top of my head. But I'll be damned if my own child is going to physically hurt me, for any reason.
And this is where we are today. I'm a broken shell of a person. I'm angry at the system because I can't protect Itty Bit from growing up in a house like this. I'm exhausted from research, Dr. appointment, fighting and sleeping with one eye open. I spend a lot of time trying to anticipate her next move. I wonder when she will escalate and try to stab me in my sleep. I am not joking when I say she will probably be diagnose sociopath as an adult.
My Name is MJ. I'm the parent of a pain in the ass, and I have no say in the matter.
