Tonight my daughter had another major melt down.
Once again she was yelling and screaming, kicking and smashing things in the house, as well as threatening to end my life.
All of this begun because her brother had moved her Sims games whilst searching for one of his own Play Station favorites.
Upon discovering this almighty transgression my daughter flew into a rage of epic proportions, stormed into my son’s bedroom, and woke him up with a wave of unrelenting abuse.
Hearing this unholy commotion, I dragged her out of her brothers room and told her to stop all of her carrying on.
No harm had been done. Nothing had been broken. (Well at that stage anyway). There was simply no need for all of this fuss.
She then started screaming at me. Telling me that it was all my fault, that he knew he wasn’t allowed to touch her games, and that if anything, I should be telling him off instead of growling at her for her behavior.
Naturally I refused to cave into that very particular and well worn strain of flawed logic.
So then she blew up like a time bomb whose ignition switch had prematurely been pinged.
Riding on her wave of fury she smashed anything and everything in her path.
She kicked the banister on the stairs so hard that it broke. Then yelled at me that it was all my fault and that I was to come immediately and look at what my thoughtless actions had caused her to do.
She then screamed and threatened me again with more expletives than a child her age has a right to know.
After an hour of being ranted and raved at, threatened and denigrated as the source of all of her problems, I finally managed to get her upstairs and into her bedroom.
Once inside her room she began her usual process of slamming her wardrobe doors, punching and kicking at the walls, all the while screaming for some non-existent person to stop talking to her, to shut up, go away and leave her alone.
Eventually the level of noise coming from her room subsided long enough for me to gather up some semblance of clarity.
Realizing yet again that I needed help with this, I grabbed the information pack that the mental health agency we’d been dealing with provided us and called the 24 hour hot line they’d told me to call for advice if things got out of hand again.
So over the phone I explained my situation, only to be told by the man on the other end of the line, that they didn’t really deal with issues concerning children of my daughters age and that he wished the agency that had given me the hot line number would stop doing so, as until a formal mental health diagnosis is made, there is nothing that they can do in any case.
He then told me, that from the sounds of the behavior I’d described, it was most likely that the real problem was that my daughters personality was starting to come out. In which case, her threatening and violent behavior would not be seen as a mental health issue at all but possibly a personality disorder.
(But Hang on, aren’t they one and the same thing? I thought but didn’t say, after all who am I to know? )
The man then went on to ask me what form of help I’d received from the agency we’d been seeing. So I told him that we’d been due for a feedback session last week, but that it had been cancelled so I really had no idea as to what their assessments or recommendations for my daughter would be.
His reply was; “Well it seems like they’ve been no help at all to you, so by the sounds of it, I’d say your well and truly on your own. So as a parent it’s up to you to either step up and take the fight right back to her, or withdraw for the sake of your own safety, which it sounds like you are currently doing.”
There was a pause after this last statement which was then followed by the words;
“Really it sounds like you are down to one of two options. Either you call the police if things start to get really out of hand (at which point I am thinking, what, only starting to get out of hand? OMG, just what do you think I’m calling a 24 hour emergency hot line for?), or he continued, get her to the nearest hospital anyway you can.”
These words were once again followed by another pause and something that sounded all too much like a sigh. Then came the rest of the happy news,
“mind you, even if you do manage to get her to the hospital they’ll probably just hold over in casualty all night and release her in the morning.”
“But she’s a child” I said, “what sort of help is forcing her to stay in A & E all night going to bring her? Especially if they’re not actually going to do anything to help her?”
“Well then it sounds like the police are going to be your best bet if you need any further help and really, at this point in time on a long weekend, it sounds like they are going to be your only option. I’m sorry to say this but there’s really nothing more that I can suggest to help you.
End of conversation.
So once again I find myself uselessly asking the night sky, why?
Why are the professionals, the people who are supposed to help, the people who have never once seen my daughter in one of her full on, completely irrational and highly agitated states, constantly telling me that there’s nothing they can or will do?
Just what is it going to take for someone to take this seriously?
I’ve already done all I can do.
I’ve swallowed my pride and admitted that this is something that I can’t deal with on my own.
I’ve put myself on the line and asked for the help that we need, but instead of getting any help all I seem to be getting is stonewalled .
Just what is going on here?