Mum is going for her bone scan and I KNOW it wont be good news, not that we will know today of course.
Things are piling up here.
Shellibaby is feeling crappy, the med's don't seem to be holding her now and she is obsessing about cutting again. I don't know what to do for her. I just have no idea. Sometimes it is too fucking hard.
My 'time off' is pretty much over now......I feel okay physically, still need to take it easy but feeling much stronger than a week ago. I am getting random cramps in my leg muscles and a strange pain/twinge in my left shoulder, not bad but just there and feeling rather high along the anxiety scale but that's okay I suppose. I can deal with it.
I want to know how to 'fix' my kid! Writing a story is not going to help her now, it may be a nice idea and be a nice thing for her to compare notes with in the future sometime but for now she needs something I don't seem to be able to give her. Like hope and guts and determination.
I had to put her on the 'pill', for obvious reasons....this was not a decision made lightly but a necessary evil. I wonder if it is interfering with her meds though, even though they said it should'nt. This kid is in such a hurry to grow up and is so irresponsible and impulsive she scares me. She has no motivation, and any she does manage to gather just dissipates in a moment.
I look at this child, with her scars and her big blue eyes and her utter confusion and I despair at times.
I want to slap her silly and also to put her in a glass cage on a big soft cushion to sleep for about 5 years till she is a little more grown up.
I haven't got time to deal with it all properly. I wouldn't know how to if I did have more time. There is too much coming just over the horizon and I worry that I will miss something vitally important and somehow end up burying my daughter along with my mother. Sounds awful doesn't it but it is a possibilty. This kid is much like me with more shit to deal with than I had at her age......it took me such a long time to heal, and I was lucky I did. She tells me she is not me, and she isn't but oh she is, she is.
I worry that she will just take off into the unknown, as I did at 16, and put herself through untold crap for nothing, as I did. I worry I worry I worry.
But for now, I will put a lid on it, and go to work and hold the friggen fort and do what is in front of me.
In the end, it's all I can do isn't it.
Blah!
