Nothing is ever simple

Any time where things seem to be going well, they all fall apart again. My youngest has managed to implode her life again. I picked her up for a doctor’s appointment and I found myself the brunt of every ill in her life during our twenty minute drive.

I am the one holding her back in life because I do not know how she struggles. Her struggles being things she did not want to tell me about. She decided her friend group was bullying her and proceeded to have the school create a no contact order for every kid in the friend group. She then proceeds to wear all black the next day to mourn the end of her friendship. Also, she lasted all of two weeks before contacting her sister again with her new phone number. Already I am hearing the same complaints that her sister gives about me. Mostly because my youngest is mad because the oldest goes days without replying to her. As if I have anything to do with it. I have not stopped them from communicating, but somehow let us be mad at mom when older sister does not respond.

It is a big mess. It always is. I assume she got the friendship advice from her sister, which is why it imploded so spectacularly. She went to one of the kid’s birthday parties last weekend. None of this makes any sense. She refuses to talk to me about it.

The end of the term is coming quickly. She needs to focus on her grades. She is failing two classes and she spent last summer fixing all her grades to graduate on time. She cannot fail again. Instead we choose to sabotage the other aspects of our life.

Trauma is an insidious thing lurking in the brain waiting for its chance to strike. She is so anxious about the future she sabotages the present. We eventually talked it out and got her sorted after the doctor visit. We did an exercise where we put things in mental buckets: things to deal with now, next week, next month. Once everything was sorted, we were able to move on to a bit of a feelings chat. Then we cranked the stereo up and drowned out our thoughts.

Being a teenager is hard. Turning into an adult is hard. Doing it with childhood trauma is infinitely harder.