Sunday, June 6, 2010

"My Mom Told Me I Can't Live Here Any More."

Yesterday Daughter asked me if she'd paid for my ipod yet. I asked her if she'd done any work since the last time we'd figured out how much she still owed me. "No."
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"Then you haven't earned any more money."
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She started talking about selling things to get money. "No, those are things I bought, so you can't sell them for money. Then she decided she was going to get a job in Town. "You need to complete the tasks on the chart so you will be ready for employment in the community."
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Yesterday she was in the dining room working on an art project. "Are you going to do any work today?"
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"What happens if I say no?"
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"There will be no electronics the rest of the day."
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"Fine. I'm not doing any work," and she stormed up to her room.
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I went up a minute later to find her watching her portable DVD player. I confiscated it. Of course, I had no right. I got my clothes out of the dryer and hung them up, and threw hers in a laundry basket.
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She came and got her clothes and took them upstairs. She was back down almost immediately and announced she'd hung them up and put them away. "I don't believe you. You need to at least do 3 things: put your clothes away, make your bed, and get the wet depends and put them in the trash." I have told her she has to take them out to the trash can daily, since I don't want them stinking up the house. Instead she's been hiding them in a wastebasket under the desk upstairs.
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She refused. I finally gave up and gave her her bedtime meds without the work being done because I wanted to go to bed (and because I didn't want to deal with her without the psych meds in her). She told me I was being unreasonable and she was through with me, and called me a b*tch. This final pronouncement was her response to my giving in and giving her her meds without her completing the tasks. I hadn't even said anything, just given her the meds.
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This morning I didn't wake her up. I came back home and went upstairs to get something, and she yelled (angrily) that she was in the kitchen. I informed her I wasn't looking for her and went back to the church.
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She came to worship (dressed appropriately). After worship she tried to engage me. I told her I was done being verbally abused by her. I told her that I deserved respect, and never called her names, so I wasn't going to talk to someone who called me names. So she called Therapist and informed her I was kicking her out of the house.
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It's amazing how she is always the victim.

6 comments:

maeve said...

Here's my line: I don't talk with people who bully me and if I'm bullied I need an apology if the person wants me to talk. It must be hard for a girl to learn to talk respectfully, but you'll figure it out." Walking away is one of my best skills.

Reverend Mom said...

Thanks, Maeve. This is a great line, and I will make use of it. I learn so much from you.

maeve said...

I was just thinking...."my mom told me I can't live here anymore" is her worst fear. Interesting.

Reverend Mom said...

Oh, Wise Woman from the Northeast, once again you point out what I hadn't seen. Thanks.

Miz Kizzle said...

I wonder what need the role of victim fills for your DD? Do you think it's her way of dealing with guilt? She knew she was way out of line so she accused you of saying something even worse. That way, instead of being at fault and needing to apologize and do the right thing she was the one who was wronged
I know her statement to the therapist was fear based but really, doesn't she know the therapist wouldn't believe her?
From what you describe she seems to be functioning/reasoning at a very young age. My daughter if almost sixteen and she went through a phase of fantasizing and tall tale telling when she was about six. But then again, my daughter doesn't have your DD's problems.

Reverend Mom said...

Miz Kizzle,

As Therapist has pointed out, it's never just one thing with Daughter. Part of it is her desire for drama and attention. Part of it is that she really does feel like she is being victimized. Part of it is her frustration with all the things she can't do and all the ways her life differs from that of normal 23 year olds. Then there's some that we'll never figure out. I think she escalated this weekend because she wasn't getting the reaction she was looking for from me. There's nothing more frustrating than trying to pick a fight with someone who refuses to engage. I'm getting better at that. Oh, and her age ranges from 2 (the time of the trauma) to 16 or 17. I never know how old she's going to be.