When Kaitlyn was younger, she had such a fierce determination. I saw this in her face during the very first studio portrait made of her at only a few week old. Sometimes now when I see that photo on my dining room wall, I must pause to ask myself what I did wrong. Dwelling on this sense of guilt benefits no one, so instead I have been saying deep, heart felt prayers and trying to move toward acceptance instead.
When Kaitlyn was in the 7th grade, about 12 years old, she asked me this profound question regarding social relationships. She told me a story about having a box of 96 crayons, the one with the sharpener on the back. She asked why others would ask to use your big box of crayons when they had their own. Explaining further that it took her a long time to get that bigger box, she just did not want to share with others, even if they could not afford the bigger box. Of course I knew the deeper implications to her story, understood the question regarding human charity that Kaitlyn struggled with. I remember staring at her so intently, mesmerized by the depth of her perceptions.
When she was only 4 years old, she would focus on whatever game of make believe caught her fancy. She would line up her dolls and stuffed animals along one wall of her room in some pattern and then leave them in that pattern until some new idea caught her attention. Her make believe could last for days. Neither of her sisters ever played on this level.
She has approached must of her life with this same intensity. Look at her self portrait added to this post. She would work on her lips for hours only to find some hidden flaw only she would see. Even after it was complete, she would scoff at it, unsatisfied. Me trying to define things for her has never been easy as she sought always to define them for herself.
As her mom, watching this dark, uncertain journey terrifies and saddens me. I truly want so much more for her. My own preservation must take priority as her missing status moves into the 4th week. At this point, I have no idea what her future holds.
DABDA
The 5 stages of grief.
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance
My 5 best friends of late, I am working desperately with my therapist to move toward acceptance so that I can be healthy and supportive for Kaitlyn when she finally stops raging at the world. I am truly no stranger to grief; I've been here many times before.
Resources are valuable. I've stated this repeatedly, because without accessing support services, a parent of a disturbed (missing, angry, defiant) child cannot cope effectively with the trauma or the consequences of the situation. I have met several other parents of emotionally disturbed children recently. Each story has some similarities but vast differences. What I glean from our conversations is that survival is possible, even renewal of the parent / child relationship once the tide of destructiveness runs its course.
I miss my daughter.
I love her so deeply that I feel her pain and suffering all tied up with my own.
In desperation, I want to hold her, comfort her and protect her from herself.


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