Abigail's psychological testing results came back a few weeks ago. She is more worried and more anxious than 98% of other children her age. Kimberly and I investigate the evidence: Insomnia, self-absorbtion, low self-esteem, passive resistance, consistent unhappiness...Yep, sounds like the testing has 'hit the nail right on the head'.
We look at each other silently gauging the other's thoughts, we unanimously decide without words that we would like to see what medication options are available for Abigail. One might think that this decision was made flippantly, but the conclusion of the testing makes sense based on the plethura of daily experience we have with our troubled little lady, as well as many talks with her teacher, and constant communication with each other.
They suggested a small dose of anti-anxiety medication. We are staunchly opposed to the use of medication of this sort as any kind of solution to the problem. We hope this to be a medium through which Abigail would allow her heart to be examined by the therapist and for tools to be learned so that she is capable of coping with her inner turmoil without the medication.
There is a nagging voice in the back of my mind that tells me that this isn't going to work, that therapy and medication aren't going to get anything done. I have to trust her to God's hands, and hope that every step we take in the process is going to push against the dam of hurt inside of the wounded little girl.
Her precious heart is held captive by this hurt, which I am at least partially to blame for. She is the innocent victim of two divorces; two events which will forever be imprinted on her memory. The fighting, the uncertainty, the confusion, the loss, the undeniable shame, and the blame that a child can't help but place back upon herself.
I pray that God can take this curse and somehow, in His way, turn it into a blessing for her.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Why we hurt ourselves
Why do we make decisions that are destructive to our health, sanity, stress, and overall well being? Why do we reward achieving goals and milestones with pain?
The first answer that pops into my head is: We think we deserve it.
The second answer: Chances are; we do deserve it. I get so out of touch with myself, that I flail at myself internally doing any pain and damage I can. This is, of course, counterintuitive, illogical, almost unthinkable!
Why do I do this? I struggle with all my faculties to figure out why I would do harm to myself. Now; to be clear, my 'harm' is mild, I am not punching walls, or jumping off of cliffs, nor am I cutting myself or piercing anything. The harm I do myself consists of food and beverage choices. This concept, though less severe, is still parallel, perhaps, to the reasoning that leads to the more extreme choices that I mentioned earlier in this paragraph.
The best part? I have successfully passed this behavior to my son. Not the self-evaluation and self-awareness, no not that, but the drive to make destructive choices.
Kim and I sat down with him this last weekend. "The Plan"(discussed in earlier blog post) had its first true and hard test on Zechariah. He completely snubbed "The Plan" on Friday. He barely got 2/6 points which is to say he took responsibility for two of the six areas of his day. We were honestly seeking to find why he was resisting, so hard, this plan which rewards easily and asks so little. Kim and I spoke with him, trying to draw an answer out by reasonably trying to understand his position. Still he would not speak, he wore a look of sadness and passive defiance.
After feeling him out for ten minutes and letting the awkward silence settle, Zech announced feebly: "nobody likes to work." Kimberly and I tried to exude kind and understanding sentiment in an effort to pull any of the thoughts we could from him. He went on: "most of the kids at school, most adults I know, hate work, and try to get away from it as much as possible." Kim and I recognized his heartfelt response as we eased back into our chairs letting out one deep breath.
It seems that Zech is starting to understand a part of what it means to be an adult, which may be good news, since he is only 11. Kim and I were relieved to be able to add to his understanding carefully.
We explained that there are plenty of people that work day after day simply for a paycheck, so that they may subsist. We see this all around us. Then there are those who use 'work' as a stepping stone to get to where they want to be in life. We went on, 'work' is seldom fun, whether it is pushing through boring assignments in school, or hiking through 20 years in the Marine Corps. People struggle through college, technical school, certification boards, and such so that they can do the jobs they want to do, so that they can accomplish their dreams. People do 'work' so that they can listen to people's problems (my dream), bring justice to anyone and everyone (Kim's dream), writing for TV (an old friend's dream), treat and save children's lives (Kim's mom's dream) and many, myriads of other dreams.
Peharps this is a middle class-centric understanding, but 'work' is the sacrifice that makes our dreams possible, no one is going to give them to us.
The discussion must have helped. Zechariah went about his few chores with a suprisingly different attitude the next day, even the extra ones he earned for having done so little the day before. He took criticism and instruction easily now. We compared the amount of work we are asking of him, for indeed, in the 6 areas of his day, most tasks are ones which he already has to perform (getting dressed, to school, breakfast), leaving only a few which really constitue 'work' (doing dishes, vacuuming, and sweeping). Once I explained to him that we expect a hearty 30 minutes of work out of him, at most, for the various rewards we are offering, then he clearly saw that the small sacrifice was worth the rewards.
Wouldn't it be nice if I could correct my wrong behaviors in him before he faces this world? I am not optomistic, but it is something worth trying.
The first answer that pops into my head is: We think we deserve it.
The second answer: Chances are; we do deserve it. I get so out of touch with myself, that I flail at myself internally doing any pain and damage I can. This is, of course, counterintuitive, illogical, almost unthinkable!
Why do I do this? I struggle with all my faculties to figure out why I would do harm to myself. Now; to be clear, my 'harm' is mild, I am not punching walls, or jumping off of cliffs, nor am I cutting myself or piercing anything. The harm I do myself consists of food and beverage choices. This concept, though less severe, is still parallel, perhaps, to the reasoning that leads to the more extreme choices that I mentioned earlier in this paragraph.
The best part? I have successfully passed this behavior to my son. Not the self-evaluation and self-awareness, no not that, but the drive to make destructive choices.
Kim and I sat down with him this last weekend. "The Plan"(discussed in earlier blog post) had its first true and hard test on Zechariah. He completely snubbed "The Plan" on Friday. He barely got 2/6 points which is to say he took responsibility for two of the six areas of his day. We were honestly seeking to find why he was resisting, so hard, this plan which rewards easily and asks so little. Kim and I spoke with him, trying to draw an answer out by reasonably trying to understand his position. Still he would not speak, he wore a look of sadness and passive defiance.
After feeling him out for ten minutes and letting the awkward silence settle, Zech announced feebly: "nobody likes to work." Kimberly and I tried to exude kind and understanding sentiment in an effort to pull any of the thoughts we could from him. He went on: "most of the kids at school, most adults I know, hate work, and try to get away from it as much as possible." Kim and I recognized his heartfelt response as we eased back into our chairs letting out one deep breath.
It seems that Zech is starting to understand a part of what it means to be an adult, which may be good news, since he is only 11. Kim and I were relieved to be able to add to his understanding carefully.
We explained that there are plenty of people that work day after day simply for a paycheck, so that they may subsist. We see this all around us. Then there are those who use 'work' as a stepping stone to get to where they want to be in life. We went on, 'work' is seldom fun, whether it is pushing through boring assignments in school, or hiking through 20 years in the Marine Corps. People struggle through college, technical school, certification boards, and such so that they can do the jobs they want to do, so that they can accomplish their dreams. People do 'work' so that they can listen to people's problems (my dream), bring justice to anyone and everyone (Kim's dream), writing for TV (an old friend's dream), treat and save children's lives (Kim's mom's dream) and many, myriads of other dreams.
Peharps this is a middle class-centric understanding, but 'work' is the sacrifice that makes our dreams possible, no one is going to give them to us.
The discussion must have helped. Zechariah went about his few chores with a suprisingly different attitude the next day, even the extra ones he earned for having done so little the day before. He took criticism and instruction easily now. We compared the amount of work we are asking of him, for indeed, in the 6 areas of his day, most tasks are ones which he already has to perform (getting dressed, to school, breakfast), leaving only a few which really constitue 'work' (doing dishes, vacuuming, and sweeping). Once I explained to him that we expect a hearty 30 minutes of work out of him, at most, for the various rewards we are offering, then he clearly saw that the small sacrifice was worth the rewards.
Wouldn't it be nice if I could correct my wrong behaviors in him before he faces this world? I am not optomistic, but it is something worth trying.
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