Her Conflict and Mine

I felt inadequate. Conditional. Unfair. Angry. Misunderstood. We were treating her so differently from the boys and I didn't like it but she was so different. But again unless you lived with her you couldn't see it. So I felt an enormous amount of guilt from those on the outside looking in. I had virtually no patience with her and found myself yelling at the kids. And for me this was so disappointing because it meant I felt out of control. There were a few things I would do better as a parent than I had growing up and this was one of them. But I wasn't doing better. I see now I was very hard on myself. I was taking the blame for so many of her actions. I clearly needed help. But I have discovered on this journey that I don't like to ask for help and I don't want to appear needy. That I gladly report is changing. So for far too long I felt like the source of the problem. Nobody would believe that this small girl could cause so much torment. I could hardly believe it myself. The dynamics of the family were changing. The spirit in the house was contentious. I was experiencing anxiety attacks (I recognize that now). And I had no outlet. And all the while, I tried to put on my best face. I felt fraudulent. I was becoming and doing things that I told myself I would never do as a parent. It was causing the trauma I was feeling from her to be more intense that it ever should have been. These feelings, at varying degrees, lasted for nearly 2 years.