"A friend once called this sense of being too alone "the desperate plain," the looming desolate stretch of ground, no trees to shelter you, no water, no way to escape, nowhere to hide or find comfort, strewn with rocks and a few random snake holes. You are stripped down existentially, you are naked, you are nuts."
~Anne Lamott, from Small Victories: Spotting Improbably Moments of Grace
We've all been there, haven't we? What Lamott's friend calls "the desperate plain". It's terrifying. We can't remember having ever felt safe. We can't imagine ever feeling safe again. Everywhere we look, we see threats. There is nowhere to retreat. There we are: naked, nuts.
I'm there right now. My youngest child is struggling with obsessive-compulsive disorder and I feel as though I'm in enemy territory. She becomes someone I don't recognize when she's having an episode. She screams that I'm "dirty". She won't touch certain items because they're "contaminated". She rails at me for "not helping" her and won't let me hug her because I'm "filthy and "something bad will happen."
And then, when the episode is over – 10 minutes if we're lucky, an hour if we're not – she's contrite. She sobs with regret, begs my forgiveness, says she wishes she could kill herself so that she didn't have to deal with this. She's 11 years old. A baby. My baby.
It's breaking my heart.
And though it has been a long time since I was in that barren wasteland – that desperate plain – I know that so many of you are still there. I'm back.
I'm reminded just how terrifying it is. How alone you all feel.
But I know that it is then, when we look over our shoulder and beside us and – oh no, did something move over there? – all around and see nothing NOTHING that can save us, that we need to say, in a squeak or a roar:
Help.
We need to say "help". We need to say "help" to anyone in our lives who can offer it. We need to say "help" to someone who can take your kids for an hour so you can close your eyes or go for a walk or see your therapist. We need to say "help" to that therapist – who can give us a place where, for an hour a week (or more!), we can lay our heart bare to someone with compassion and experience who can help us mend it back together, stitch by stitch.
We need to say "help" to the women on this site, who've been where we are and can join us in solidarity or gently remind us that we won't always be in this place. That despite everything we feel right now, there is a place to move into that does offer safety and respite. That we'll get there if we can just hold on. If we can just trust that this desperate plain isn't a destination but a phase. A place we need to endure. A place where are not, in fact, alone.
Enduring can feel like surrender when it's actually a sign of incredible strength. And asking for help can be the most courageous thing you do today.
Right now my daughter needs my help. She needs me to remind her that she can endure. That this desperate plain isn't where she will always be. That she is brave and loved and suffering. But that she isn't alone.
Oh Elle
ReplyDeleteWhen our kids are in pain, it tears at our heart.
You have an amazing ability to help those in need and I know you will do all you can to help your daughter. She is so lucky to have you as her mom. I'll be thinking of you, your daughter and family as you deal with this unwelcomed ocd into your dear little girl's life.
Big Hugs to you dear Elle
Gabby xo
Hi Gabby, Thanks for your kind words. This was an older post so she's doing much better, though the OCD tends to reappear and likely will for much of her life. What she's learned, however, is how to manage it, how to recognize it, and how to trust herself to move through it. She's 15 now and back in therapy because it showed up in another form. Two steps forward, one back. But nonetheless progress.
DeleteHelp.....my heart just won't stop breaking. New years Eve feels more alone. Difficult things keep happening to my children and I feel helpless. My son continues to tell me how miserable I made him by allowing my husband to stay post dday. He believes it was the start of depression for him although I think it was starting before -not to minimize what my husband's behavior did when he needed him most. I have not been able to get our son (19) to engage in counseling, yet he was put on an antidepressant. Thankfully our younger daughter is in counseling but the progress is very slow. Both of our teens have chronic medical issues as well. I can see my kids are affected by this probably for the rest of their lives and I'm having a difficult time coping with that. I wanted so much to provide a beautiful safe home for them full of wondrful memories. Seeing this pain in my children is a barrier to progress with my husband. I feel guilty for worrying about my relationship with him when that relationship is what hurt our children. I wanted to model grace, redemption and healing for them but at times , like tonight, I just feel so hopeless. I feel guilty for considering leaving the marriage for the sake of my children and at this point the damage is done and there may be more to lose than gain. I can't help but to feel responsible for all the pain they are in. My courage is faltering as I face this. My heart hurts. I am just not sure what decisions to make.
ReplyDeleteOh Anonymous,
DeleteI know exactly how you feel. I was so determined to provide stability and joy and love for my children. And I still struggle with the realization that none of that could "save" my kids from their own issues.
You are not responsible for your son's depression. Depression is a mental illness. For him to blame you is incredibly unfair. Yes, he's 19, which means both that he's too immature to recognize that this isn't your fault and old enough to take responsibility for his depression. You can't force him into counselling but you can certainly make it clear to him that he gets to choose how he responds to his depression but that he also chooses the consequences. No counselling means, likely, that he'll be far slower to manage it effectively. But, sweetie, that is on him. You cannot change that.
I'm glad your younger daughter is in counselling because, with a good counsellor, she will learn how to manage her emotions. And yes, it's slow. But it's important work. And sometimes progress feels like a huge leap. Sometimes like a snail.
You sound like an incredible mom – one who has done her very best. And that, Anonymous, is all any of us can ever do. Our best. We are ALL going to make mistakes. And that's okay. We model to our kids that mistakes are not the end of the world. That we own them, make amends where necessary and then move forward with better choices. You cannot be held for ransom because you made a choice that they disagree with. You were doing the best you could under excruciating circumstances. I completely get it. I struggled for, literally, years about whether to stay or go and which one was better for my kids. It's a crapshoot sometimes. Some guys get better. Others don't. We're making our choices without the ability to see the future.
So please, on this first day of 2019, let yourself off the hook. I'm sure you've told your kids that you did your best, that you have regrets and that you are sorry for the pain they're in. But I hope you've also told them that each of us is responsible for our own happiness and that they are hurting themselves by refusing to step up to that. You will always try and guide them and support them but that, ultimately, it's up to them. I often tell my kids, when they disagree with something I've done or a decision I've made, that they get to raise their own kids however they'd like. But that I am making my decisions based on what I think is best, given what I know right now.
My wish for you is that you forgive yourself for any missteps. And that you move forward without the weight of regrets. Your kids are going to be okay, Anonymous. But you need to model self-care and self-love. And self-forgiveness.
Thank you, Elle
DeleteI am in awe of your kindness to share some help and wise words with me on this holiday. This blog is such a special place. Even best friends and churches cannot offer what this space offers. I am very very grateful for a safe place to share words I can barely speak. Responses here find me rushing to a place I can sit and reflect and usually leave me in tears of comfort and release.
DeleteI am so glad you found us. This blog is a special place because the women here are incredible -- warm, generous, wise. And because we all know the pain of betrayal and there's a certain sisterhood in knowing each other's pain, even if we respond to it differently.
DeleteWhat I read in your comment was your difficulty in releasing responsibility for your children's pain. I don't doubt that you would step in front of a train for them. But when it's their other parent who's caused the pain, it's not quite so black and white, is it? Especially when we're reeling from it too.
So I hope you can find a way to gently let your kids know that they are old enough to make their own choices about managing their issues but that also means they accept the consequences of those choices. Life is going to sometimes deliver unpleasant circumstances and they need to figure out how to respond to that without blaming others. It's not easy, I know. But nothing about parenthood is easy, in my estimation, except loving our kids.
I agree with Elle that you are an amazing mom. You have the best intentions and really are doing what is right. I think it is hard for our kids to see this. One other thought would be for you to go to a therapist/counselor for support in how to work through this with your son.
DeleteWe were just talking about this the other night. Our kids do not know about my husband's affairs. Mine are a little younger than yours but not much. Besides what he did to me/him/us/our family he struggles that he has not been transparent with them. They have not asked or even hinted at it and we worked hard to face this and deal with it when they were not home. The most they know is that being married can be challenging. For a while when I was distant and lost a lot of weight after dday they asked if I was okay. Also they asked why their dad was home more and not spending as much time with his friends. I found that interesting. My husband is in mental health and we talked about if it came up we would provide minimal information. I know that would be a challenge since they are both inquisitive. The other thing we talked about emphasizing is that we both love them no matter what happens between us. Honestly many of their friends have divorced parents or parents that do not get along.
Even though our kids to no know we use it daily to talk about understanding relationships. Much of what I have learned applies to friendships, dating, even work or school relationships/dynamics. I know our kids would be crushed to find out what he did but for now we work hard to set an example of the work it requires to have a quality relationship. Honestly in the beginning they were the only thing keeping me here and they both still motivate us to do our best. Being in a marriage and parents are both really hard roles. I think that can be hard for kids to see.
Elle
ReplyDeleteOCD is my middle name and of course I gave that to our daughter and son! Each child has had ups and downs with it but like me, they handle that burden the best way they can! My daughter and I turn to cleaning or in her case reorganization of cupboards... out with the old in with the new! Sending warm hugs and wishes for a gracious new year which brings us all new beginnings!
Theresa,
DeleteMy daughter and I have laughed over the fact that I have said out loud "why can't you have the type of OCD that leads to a constantly clean room!" Her room is totally disaster. Hers shows up in compulsive hand-washing, anxiety over making a mistake (asks for constant reassurance that she didn't mess up), and trichtillomania (hair pulling). I don't have OCD though, in hindsight, I suspect my mother did. And I'm pretty sure my husband is on the spectrum for it too. I'm glad you and your kids are able to manage it effectively. Recognizing it seems to be the first step.
You made me totally laugh out loud because my son was as messy as your daughter but my daughter couldn’t stand his room so she cleaned and reorganized him weekly!! Now that son is living with his lady friend in her house ...he has a list of chores! I’m loving it!
ReplyDeleteMy other daughter is the total opposite. She HATES clutter. I thought it was great until I realized that she's just handling her anxiety by controlling what she can control, which is her space. We laughed so hard one time at dinner when I told my younger daughter with OCD about a summer camp that might connect her with others and help her and my older daughter (the neat one) burst out, "that sounds awesome. Would we spend our days sweeping and cleaning?"
Delete