Mothers of special children admit that the very first years after it became known that their child is terminally ill bring unbearable suffering. And here they really need psychological help. We continue our conversation with Elena Kozlova, a psychologist at the Day Adaptation Group for Disabled Children of the Orthodox Help Service "Mercy". See the first part of the conversation.
Mothers of special children admit that the very first years after it became known that your child is terminally ill bring unbearable suffering. The result of such experiences is prolonged depression, nervous breakdowns. We continue a series of meetings with the psychologist of the psychological assistance service for parents of special children in the daytime adaptation group for disabled children (project) Elena Kozlova.
- Elena, how can you alleviate the state of mind of the parents of special children?
– To begin with, the diagnoses of children, of course, often cause deviations in the mental health of their mothers. You don’t need to constantly say admiringly to such a mother, shaking your head: “Oh, how strong you are.” She is not strong, just many parents have learned to hide their suffering. And you need to somehow move away from them, stop suffering. And here we need help.
The birth of a baby with an incurable disease is a huge grief for the parent. When a pregnancy is being carried and parents are waiting for the birth of this child, they, of course, are waiting for the birth of an ordinary, normal baby. And then, when it becomes clear that the child is sick, the whole world collapses. The main help for a mother at this moment is to go through this grief with her and move as gently as possible to the most vulnerable moment: to say goodbye to the dream of a healthy child. Yes, he is sick, but this does not mean that he will suffer all his life, because he has you, you will have many victories, joys, achievements, but others, because life is different. It is necessary that a woman internally realize this, accept this thought. Then her life tasks will simply change, and she will continue to live quite fully. No need to make a pathological run in a circle with exhausting thoughts: “Who is to blame? How to continue to live? My poor child."
– As far as I know, even when inner awareness and understanding comes, it is hard for mothers to accept. It's really a constant grief that you just learn to hide over the years. But how to do it in such a way as to get away from inner pain and from the heart to rejoice in something, so that a person perks up?
- Because the awareness of what happened to the child is different. Many take the position of the victim: “That's it. I'm gone. There is only my unfortunate child, I will live his life, I am doomed to suffering with him. And that's the worst thing that can happen. A woman is quickly "de-energized", she has no strength left for anything. There comes a state in which depression is not the worst option, since it can be dealt with by psychological methods, prayer, faith, and conversation with a priest.
And much more severe cases can occur when a woman simply falls into an inadequate state. But she needs to deal with a child who feels and understands everything.
Recently, I had to provide urgent psychological assistance to a woman raising a difficult child. The situation in the family is really not easy: the mother needs to work, because there is another older child, the husband left and does not help, and literally you can’t move away from the sick child. And she was so exhausted that for a minor offense she beat the older child, broke the girl's nose. This mother is a person driven into a corner by a monstrous life situation. It needs to be rescued, just like the employees of the Ministry of Emergency Situations who have fallen under the rubble are rescued. In such cases, help is recommended, primarily psychological.
– How does this help come about?
- The first thing a psychologist should say is: "I'm ready to support you, come." And then it all depends on the woman herself, her temperament and character.
In fact, such mothers should be listened to and not overheard, they really need to tell what they most often say to themselves, in tears, into the pillow, and more often they simply remain silent, eating themselves from the inside. Speaking is already a relief. When you talk about your pain to one person, you will feel a little better. If you say the same thing either several times to the same person or to different people, the condition is greatly facilitated. This, in fact, is the help in situations where people find themselves in emergency situations, disasters ... For a person who has experienced stress, communication with people who find themselves in a similar situation means a lot.
– Everything is very individual and further work is planned depending on the specific situation. As a rule, the need for a certain psychological therapy is clarified in a conversation. Someone needs to be pitied, but for someone pity is unpleasant, he is even more embittered by it. And you need to shout at someone, and then he will have some sobering up. Others need to sit silently at first, and then questions and words will be superfluous. Someone needs to be hugged, and there is no one around who can do it. Sometimes this kind of support is therapeutic. A woman needs to realize her feelings, stop in an endless run. Just sit, take your time, listen to music, listen to yourself. It is necessary to teach a woman methods of relaxation, psychological self-help.
- What do you think, when can a turning point come, at which a woman still begins to live a full life with a sick child and perceives it already adequately?
- This will happen when the full acceptance of the situation comes. I would call it a kind of revelation. Life goes on, it does not take away everything, this mother will definitely have many wonderful moments, smiles and even happiness. One mother told me how once she and her son, who suffers from cerebral palsy in severe form, stood by the sandbox where the kids were swarming. The children ran around Sasha, he was sitting in a stroller, and the thought sounded in his mother’s head: “Your child will never run like that.” And she took it not as a sentence: lie down and die. She just realized that she needed to live differently. Anya said to herself: "Stop, stop running, stop driving yourself, torturing Sashenka, let's live with him as he is."
You say it was a long time ago. How is the life of this mother now?
Sasha is now 17 years old. He had a sister, a healthy one, who loves him very much. There are difficulties, but in general, psychologically, this is a healthy family. By the way, mothers often tell me that they are afraid to have a second child. This is another marker of the "undeveloped" psychological trauma.
How do you really cross that threshold? How to calm a woman, set her up for the continuation of the family?
“It's hard to explain in words. This comes during personal communication, different psychologists have their own methods of work. I have a contact with every woman. In general, it must be conveyed that we are all held by the understanding that we live for someone, and the birth of children proves this.
- And what could you advise our mothers now, at the end of our conversation?
- Do not close yourself in your problems, seek help, and not only psychological. Be sure to contact the priests, to faith. The ideal option is when, after a conversation with a psychologist, a competent priest conducts a conversation with mothers. In our psychological assistance service for parents, which operates at the day adaptation group for disabled children, such meetings are definitely planned. You can sign up for group consultations, which will begin in September, right now by calling 8-916-422-04-73.
A day care group for disabled children exists on donations. You can support this project by becoming a . If you want to help disabled children, we are waiting for you every Sunday at 11.45 at the address: Moscow, Leninsky Prospekt, Building 8, Building 12, (metro > - ring).).
The birth of a child in a family is always a joy for loving caring parents. A new person has come into the world, they have to teach him everything, prepare him for adulthood and at some point let him go ... How much joy and tears in half, how many emotions, hopes, expectations ... But sometimes it also happens that the birth of a child becomes a wall that divides life into "before" and "after", and all happy dreams, all hopes are shattered by a hard word: "disabled person".
The child was born with a disability, or became disabled due to an accident or illness. How to live on? What to do?
This situation is stressful for all family members. In fact, it means that everyone will have to change their lives very much, and all the interests of the family will now be directed to the rehabilitation or support activities of this child. Life can change so abruptly that some families are forced to change the city, and some even the country of residence, in order to be closer to rehabilitation centers and clinics. But to change housing is not so bad. The main thing is not to break yourself.
Psychologists note that the bulk of families with disabled children are divided into three groups:
first- passive. Parents either do not understand the seriousness of the problem, or close themselves off from it, pretending that it does not exist. It is so psychologically easier for them to cope with stress. Unfortunately, in such families, measures for the rehabilitation of a disabled child are practically not applied, parents avoid talking about possible treatment and, under various pretexts, look for ways not to carry it out. Such families, as a rule, withdraw into themselves, refuse ordinary life, nullify communication with friends.
second- active. Active parents are ready to move mountains in order to, if not cure, then alleviate the condition of their child. They are ready to overcome any obstacles along the way, they are constantly looking for specialists, they are testing new methods of treatment, they are ready for any expenses in search of the most modern drugs, they are not afraid of operations and procedures. The family retains a wide range of contacts, continues to lead an active social life. All interests of the family will be subordinated to the interests of the disabled child.
third- rational. Such parents do not hide from the problem, but they do not turn it into a fixed idea. They consistently fulfill all the recommendations of specialists, undergo the prescribed treatment, but do not show extra efforts in this direction. Devoting enough time to a disabled child, they do not forget about the rest of the family, without depriving anyone of their attention.
Most families with a disabled child are in a state of constant discomfort, which is associated with uncertainty, with a constant feeling of anxiety for the future of a sick child, for the future of the family as a whole. Many note that they experience a sense of spiritual chaos, that it is difficult for them to reorient their former “normal” life to a new one. Often, the only breadwinner in the family is the father, and the mother is forced to take care of the child. To the existing problems of their own, problems of a social nature can still be added. Unfortunately, people with disabilities are still looked down upon in our society. Parents can forbid their healthy children to communicate with a disabled child. Neighbors on the porch may express displeasure with the noise that a disabled child can make. If a “special” child in a public place begins to behave inappropriately, then sometimes the mother has to listen to unflattering statements addressed to her, or all the time she has to explain that the baby is special and may not behave quite adequately. All this is very difficult for parents, such moments create an oppressive atmosphere in the family.
How to be parents of a "special" child? Caregivers of a disabled child must first of all not succumb to emotions and panic, otherwise they will not be able to do anything useful either for their family or for their child. No matter how scary the word “disability” sounds, people live with it. Yes, many things will have to change, but this does not mean that from now on the simple joys of life will be inaccessible to you.
It is impossible to slide into two states: into the state of an unfortunate victim and into the state of an armored personnel carrier that sweeps away everything in its path.
The first deny themselves all the joys and spend time whining: “Oh, my son (my daughter) is disabled, how scary and terrible it is, how hard it is for us, how unfortunate we are.” Such pessimism takes away strength, people, instead of fighting, spend their strength on endless complaints, self-digging, and often create a situation that does not correspond to the true state of affairs in the worst sense. They overreact to their child's disability, although it may not be all that bad.
The second group of parents, on the other hand, go to the other extreme. They live under the motto “I am a mother (father), and I will do everything for my child!”, not seeing behind this aspiration the needs of other family members, their other children, who may be abandoned and deprived of attention. Often, rehabilitation measures and constant trips to specialists turn into an end in itself, when treatment is already being carried out not in order to help the child, but for the sake of the process itself, for the sake of self-affirmation, for the sake of expiation of guilt: I do, I drive, I punch, so I good parent.
Neither position is correct. The disability of the child must be accepted as a fact in which you are not guilty (with the exception of direct cases when, due to an oversight or negligence of the parents, harm was caused to health).
You can not push into the background other family members. for the desire to make life easier for one child, you may not notice how you will make others unhappy.
Do not reject the help of a psychologist and do not forget that not only you personally need psychological rehabilitation, but also your other children and spouse.
Feel free to ask for help and experience in the organization of parents of children with disabilities.
But the advice of the teacher-psychologist Semenova L.V.:
1. Never feel sorry for a child because he is not like everyone else.
2. Give your child your love and attention, but do not forget that there are other members
families who need them too.
3. Organize your life so that no one in the family feels like a “victim”,
giving up your personal life.
4. Do not protect the child from duties and problems. Do everything with him.
5. Give the child independence in actions and decision-making.
6. Watch your appearance and behavior. The child should be proud of you.
7. Don't be afraid to refuse your child anything if you consider his demands.
excessive.
8. Talk to your child more often. Remember that neither TV nor radio can replace
you.
9. Do not limit the child in communicating with peers.
10. Do not refuse to meet with friends, invite them to visit.
11. More often resort to the advice of teachers and psychologists.
12. Read more, and not only specialized literature, but fiction as well.
13. Communicate with families with disabled children. Share your experience and
adopt someone else's.
14. Do not torment yourself with reproaches. It is not your fault that you have a sick child!
15. Remember that someday the child will grow up and he will have to live
on one's own. Prepare him for the future life, talk to the child about it.
Forget about complexes like a man, be happy like a woman Galina Markovna Lifshits
Sensitive subject. What if the child is disabled?
We have come to a very important topic. By the way, it concerns not only a disabled child in the family. You can look wider. Sick family member. It doesn't even matter if you have a child or not. Let's think.
To begin with, I will tell a long-standing story that struck me in my youth. There lived a young family. And then one day the wife went to the country by taxi and got into a terrible accident. She had terrible fractures, including serious problems with her spine. Doctors weren't sure if she would be able to walk at all or even just move after such an injury.
Treatment began. Long, difficult, painstaking. The young husband behaved in a rare manner. That is simply stoic and heroic. He did everything to get his wife better.
The treatment took several years. Absolutely all the forces were thrown into the treatment of his wife. The husband managed to work for two, do special exercises with her, cook, clean the house and support her morally. She tried her best.
Her problem was the axis of their then life. First: just get up! Then: take the first step. Next: learn to walk on crutches. And finally, be able to throw away the crutches!
They succeeded! A real miracle happened. My wife made a full recovery and felt great.
Everyone around was surprised at the patience and dedication of her husband. It was through his cares and efforts that the young woman returned to a full-fledged active existence.
This is where the happiness of family life would begin. As they say, that's the end of the fairy tale, and whoever listened - well done.
But a strange thing happened. Convinced that the wife was fully capable, the husband filed for divorce. And he just left, leaving his wife housing, which, by the way, was helped by his parents to purchase before the wedding.
That was a shock! Everyone who knew about this story and watched how her husband tries for so many years in a row.
I was small, life knew only from books, but the question “why” didn’t give me peace either. So much effort... and suddenly... And he's an absolutely decent person. Surprisingly decent, impeccable. What happened?
Twenty years have passed. And I, already quite adult and almost wise, had a chance to meet with the same man. He had been married to his second wife for a long time, had kids. The first wife also married well. And I asked a question that has not left me all these years:
Why did you then decide to divorce, after so many difficult years?
Otherwise it wouldn't work. After all, no one asked me how and with what I lived all those years. And I went all out. And the wife took it for granted. In the end, I began to feel like a necessary item in the household. I had no rights other than the right to earn money and then spend it on my wife's recovery. I forgot what joy is. And with my wife, I associated only suffering and effort. The work is sometimes overwhelming. I knew that I could never leave a sick person. I couldn't live with the thought that I was a traitor. And she... Her character deteriorated... Naturally, she was fixated on her pain, on her problems. I was a crutch. And that's all.
I asked her to look at life with optimism. Learn to rejoice. Believe in the future. Maybe she did. But secret from me. Because I only got problems. When she left, I already knew: if she gets better, I'll leave. As soon as he can without me, I will leave. I had no other choice. Someone could perhaps take a mistress "for joy" and continue to live with his wife. But why? We have a strange relationship. Not a husband - a wife, but a helpless capricious patient and a patient orderly. I made this decision for myself. And for her too. We would never have had a perfect marriage. She didn't even realize that I might need something. That sometimes I just want to laugh carelessly, breathing deeply.
For me, this explanation was a revelation. And I understood this decent and decisive person very well. He did the right thing. I gave everything I could. But he decided to continue to build his life, taking into account his own interests.
Then I became specifically interested in what happens in families where one family member needs special care (temporary or permanent). A helpless family member is a challenge and a test in itself. But very often we add something superfluous to this real problem, which should not and cannot be.
I'll tell you one more story. The family lives: husband, wife and two children. Children Adults. And the husband and wife decide to have another baby. A boy is born. And it turns out that he has a severe heart defect. He can survive, but a series of major surgeries are needed. Not one, but several! During several of his infancy years.
The grief of parents is indescribable. Moreover, the parents are already mature and experienced. The fight for the child's life begins. Of course, he is a little sufferer. By the age of six, four heart surgeries! I must say, quite successful. But some other side diseases were discovered ... So the existence of the child passed from hospital to hospital.
I have been in contact with the father of the child for all the years. He selflessly takes care of the boy. The mother is losing her nerve. But the worst thing that worries the father is that a loving mother, fearing for the boy's life, allows the child everything. For example, he, six years old (and now three years older), can hit his mother in the face with a swing.
It started in infancy. Each parent will confirm that the crumbs have such a period when they unconsciously (or even consciously) hit their dad or mom in the face, grab their hair. Here it is enough to prohibit such actions very strictly several times. Babies quickly understand that this is not possible. But in this case, the unfortunate mother, obsessed with the thought of pleasing the sick child, did not resist, allowing him everything. He grew, but in irritation he could hit with a swing. And no longer infantile, but quite a strong fist. Very noticeable, bruising.
All the father's requests to raise the child in a different way, without focusing his attention on the disease, did not lead to anything. The mother believed that it was precisely in patience that her parental duty consisted. Moreover, in hospitals and sanatoriums the boy learned to swear. And, getting irritated, ill, he swears at his mother and father with such terrible words that it breaks his heart to listen to all this from children's lips.
Mother does not reread. And the father forbids to punish (verbally) his poor son. Who knows how long he will live in this world! Let him do what makes him feel better. These are her arguments.
Bottom line: the child became unbearable. He, not restrained by anyone and not taught to behave like a human being, pushes everyone away from him, despite the fact that people understand the trials that have befallen him.
The boy is homeschooled. I must say that the treatment brought quite tangible results. Operations are no longer required. He can live like a healthy person. Doctors are still observing him, looking at what changes puberty will bring. In general, everything is quite good. Only the father is tormented by the question: how will the son, accustomed to permissiveness and impunity, live on? None of the strangers will tolerate his antics.
And you know what a selfless father dreams of? You probably already guess. He dreams of raising this child, doing everything for his health and leaving the family. Only, of course, provided that the boy gets better. And now doctors promise. Forecasts give the most favorable.
I have asked my wife so many times to heed my parenting advice! I warned her about the consequences. She didn't want to hear anything. "Disabled child!" And he keeps telling his son about it all the time. What will he grow up to be? Although ... already grown. And by whom - it is quite clear.
Here is such a story.
I don’t know if my father will find the strength to stay in the family. But I know that he has been deeply unhappy for many years now. And the point here is in the monstrous upbringing of the mother, in her wild instincts, which she does not know how and does not want to restrain.
Is it possible in this case to condemn a person if he is placed in unbearable conditions of life? But if something happens, they will sympathize with the wife, condemn the husband, call him a scoundrel and a traitor. But he is neither. A decent person who patiently and steadfastly endures trials. Everything just has a limit. And everyone has the right to at least some time of rest. Let a few years. And if the spouse does not understand this, everything is possible.
Since the issue of raising a person with disabilities in the family has been of interest to me for a long time, I also have examples of quite reasonable behavior of all family members in relation to such a child.
Observation of happy families in which such a child is raised, allowed me to formulate some rules.
1. A child with disabilities should not feel like the center (or head) of the family.
2. The heads of the family in any case are the father and mother.
3. The fact that there are certain difficulties and peculiarities in the upbringing of such a child does not mean that parents are not obliged to instill in him the skills of decent communication with others (of course, we are talking about those whose minds are not affected, but even in this case there are specific teaching methods).
4. You should never, under any circumstances, tell a child: “Now, if you were healthy ...” Or: “Now, if you didn’t have ... (such and such a flaw)”. By saying that, you are not doing anyone any better. Worse, yes. Exacerbate your child's problems. Learn to think and speak exclusively positively, no matter how scary and difficult it may be for you.
5. Key words: "You are well done." "You'll be fine."
6. A sick child should feel like a full member of the family and have his own duties, the fulfillment of which must be required from him, as well as from other family members, to fulfill their duties.
7. Let him try to do everything himself. Don't offer to help.
8. Remember your main goal: you must teach your child maximum independence. Who will guarantee that you will always be there?
9. You may not always be able to help with healing. But to help in the education of strength of character is your duty.
10. No matter how difficult it may be for you, consider a strategy for family joys. Once, while vacationing in Spain, we met a wonderful Belgian family. They were elderly people with an adult son who had Down syndrome. It is rare to meet such a happy family - these are the thoughts that still come up when I think about them. By the way, their eldest son, quite healthy, is a civil aviation pilot. But he is always far away, he has his own family. And the couple talked about their son with Down syndrome: “God sent happiness to us. Our boy is always with us." They played ball very well together. They called my youngest son and taught him to play. After five minutes of communication, we forgot to think who is “not like everyone else” here.
Next, I cite the notes of a wonderful girl, about friendship with whom I already wrote at the beginning of the book. Sonya 3-va is an unusually smart, kind and gifted person. I am glad that life gave me friendship with her. She agreed to openly talk about her problems related to exactly what I wrote about above.
I would like to immediately note what impression she makes: beautiful, charming, smart, friendly, with a wonderful sense of humor. I would never have thought that she is physically extremely suffering from her illness (and she has a serious one). And most importantly: not so much from the disease, but from the complexes that have grown around her illness.
This is an instructive read. It will be useful to any mother and any father, regardless of whether your child is healthy or sick. It's about how words hurt. Or just one single word. And that's where my book started. From reflections on the power of the Word. And about how to use this power (and sometimes NOT to use it).
1. The story is in the first person.
If we proceed from the fact that we all in one way or another strive for the Whole (the Absolute, God), at every moment of time we unconsciously want to feel ourselves a part of a huge Life, then the complex is an obstacle on the way to the realization of this desire. It is based on comparison. Comparing ourselves with others (in our favor or theirs - it doesn't matter), we, first of all, separate ourselves from the Whole. And the greater the complex, the stronger the remoteness, the weaker the contact with Life.
How did my branch start?
Oddly enough, the first comparison in my life that I could remember was in my favor. And I did it myself at the age of just over two years. On one of the kindergarten walks, the teachers put our group in the sandbox and, strictly forbidding us to go out, sat down on a swing nearby. Naturally, after some time, one of the kids, having forgotten about the ban, jumped out, and all the rest immediately ran to tell adults about the violator. Everyone but me. “They give! thought little Sonya. “Isn’t it clear that they themselves have also climbed out now?” The guys were reprimanded and brought back. And I don’t even remember if I was praised then for obedience. I only remember that with childish pride I realized my ingenuity. And ... "separateness."
Complexes based on negative differences began with me from the age of three. The body reacted with inflammation to the measles vaccine given in kindergarten. Rheumatoid arthritis started. They took me out of kindergarten and put me in the hospital. First one, then another, then a third. Interestingly, it was easier for me to communicate with children in hospitals than in kindergarten, but despite the diagnosis, I did not feel the same as them. I felt more like a guest than a sick person.
I never returned to the kindergarten, I was taken from the hospital to the village for treatment. Through parental efforts and traditional medicine, by the time I had to go to school, I was already running. But the terrible forecasts of doctors and polyarthritis, which turned into a chronic form, knocked down the already anxious mother. Now all education was aimed at protecting the child from possible dangers and protecting him from overwhelming trials. They choked me with hyper-custody.
Isolation from healthy children and unwillingness to belong to the world of the sick and left me for many years somewhere in the middle. Every time I heard from doctors recommendations to apply for disability, I could not believe that it was about me. I did not feel and did not want to feel sick, abnormal, especially disabled. Particularly offended were the doctors' remarks concerning the future. Once, a woman rheumatologist with care told me, then an adult girl: “Everything will be fine! People like you find a perfect match in their environment. I remember how everything inside was indignant: “What kind of people are like you? What such to the environment??? I don’t want to hear or know anything about it!” But I kept silent.
For many years, in various forms, I heard the same thought at home: Sonechka is not like everyone else, weak. I was forbidden to walk outside the courtyard, visible from the windows, explaining that in case of danger, other children would run away, but I would not. They wrapped me in warm clothes, fed me useful food, took me to sanatoriums, dragged me to all kinds of doctors. It seemed that all the forces of the family were focused on the fight. It was a real cult of the disease.
Even the school was chosen for me “for health”. Such that in winter the joints were not cold. The school was far from home, so my parents took me there and back. In elementary grades, this was normal, no one was embarrassed by moms, dads, grandparents who came after school. But when from the third grade everyone began to go home on their own, each time I felt embarrassed that I had to go from school with my mother or grandmother, until the eighth (!) Grade, when more convenient transport appeared, and I was allowed to go home on my own. Grandma was the one I was most embarrassed about. And how she is dressed and how she behaves. For example, she could go to a music teacher and ask him to work with me separately. I remember getting mad at her for such intrusions into my school space. And sometimes, if there were a lot of lessons and after that I had to go to some other classes, they brought me food directly to school. And they had to eat in front of everyone.
I accepted all this “special” treatment outwardly meekly. But inside, she felt a raging rage. My status as “special” was further exacerbated by my teachers. Every time, having missed a lot of classes, I wrote a control with excellent marks or passed a test best of all, they set me up as an example: here, they say. Sonechka is sick so much, misses, and studies for one five!
Oddly enough, this did not spoil relations with classmates. Perhaps because I did not attach much importance to these successes, I always shared my homework, let me write off on control tests. At school, in the process itself, it was interesting and easy for me. And I felt myself, although not like everyone else, but still a full-fledged part of the class.
This feeling of "I'm not like everyone else" became the foundation. Starting point. Well, on it, brick by brick, a huge building of various complexes rushed to the sky through its whole life.
The first girlish complexes arose with the advent of a best friend.
A new girl, who came in the second grade, was put in a seat with me. We immediately became inseparable, and since we went everywhere together, we were constantly compared, like sisters. And in everything except study, this comparison was not in my favor. Only now do I realize how deeply I envied everything about her. Starting from pens and felt-tip pens that were better than mine, ending with a snow-white Hollywood smile. Why smile?
I began to compare smiles when I heard at home that I had an overbite. Once, my grandmother complained in surprise, saying how strange it is - everyone's teeth converge evenly with each other, but yours is somehow at an angle. If you look in profile, my front teeth do protrude a little. A trip to the orthodontist, although it refuted the hypothesis of malocclusion, did not bring much joy. The doctor explained that such a small feature arose due to the size of the jaw, which cannot be corrected even with a plate. The teeth are cramped and stick out a little. Since then, my battle with the lower part of the face has begun. All my life I tried to hide it from the camera, to wrap myself in a scarf up to my nose, to cover myself with something. Mom periodically added oil to the fire of fighting the mouth. So, once, just once, without judgment, but with anxiety, she, standing next to me nose to nose, said that I had bad breath. Explaining "you must be hungry or brush your teeth badly." But I remember the beginning differently. To me, it sounded like “you always have bad breath.” And since then, at a close distance from people, I began, without noticing it at first, to cover my mouth and try to speak not to the face of the interlocutor, but to the side or in the ear.
At some point, a third one was added to these two “strokes”. Remembering the episode from my childhood with the TV falling on me, my mother sadly remarked that if not for this, you would have a symmetrical chin. And if earlier I didn’t think about looking at any asymmetries, now I’ve also begun to see them in full growth. But that's not all that fell into the mouth. Once at school, in the sixth grade, my girlfriends and I gathered for the first time at a high school disco. We were just getting started. And so, before going to dance, we went up to the class teacher's office to leave things and do the most disgusting, of course, make-up. The teacher watched with sincere curiosity as we helped each other line our eyes and lips, and suddenly turned to the two of us with a question:
“Oh, how interesting, why are your lower lips larger than your upper ones?” Indeed, that's why so why. It should be noted that this episode is remembered more as funny than seriously "complexogenic", because I was not the only one, after all, the subject of tactless surprise.
Total: a third of the face seemed to have been buried in life. The teeth are crooked - rraz, the mouth smells - ddtwo, the chin is crooked - tptri, the lips are different - four. So I still often find myself hiding in photographs, and I still sometimes speak through my hands or with a mouthful of mint chewing gum, trying to move away from the interlocutor.
But back to my friend. Comparisons with her extended literally to everything. Our parents were friends and often exchanged experiences on the subject of where, for example, this or that thing was bought. So, we could get the same jackets or boots. But what was fit for a friend dangled on me, since I was thin and small.
Miniaturization has generally become a separate chapter. When all the girls in the class suddenly grew up abruptly, acquired forms and became like women, I, partly going to the miniature grandmother on my father's side, partly due to dysplasia, remained tiny. There was no sudden transition from girl to girl. Everyone’s breasts were already growing, but I didn’t even think to be identified. The "betrayal" from the best friend was especially upsetting - how so? And you have? And you Brute?)
I didn't want to be the butt of ridicule. And in tremulous expectation of boobs, a bra was bought. Thus was born my first monster complex, which became stronger than me. On a small body, even the most modest foam bust looked impressive. Having artificially outlined my breasts, I now could not afford to undress completely, staying overnight even with my best friend. Moreover, even inviting friends to spend the night at home, I did not take off my bra at night, so as not to accidentally discover such a stupid deception.
Over the years, I have become so accustomed to this idea that I no longer understood how it could be otherwise. A bra that was larger than what it contained gave me the confidence, the sense of age that I so desired. Always and everywhere they seemed to give me three or even five years less than it actually was. And because it was one of the ways to feel like a girl. It was only after many years of wearing a completely unnecessary piece of clothing and the fears associated with it that I managed to get rid of both. Sharp. Irrevocably. The advice and support of a wise friend helped. But more on that later.
In addition to all of the above, I treated my fingers with great dislike. Both legs and arms. Fingers with slightly deformed knuckles have always been the first thing examined by rheumatologists, clicking their tongues. As specialists, of course, they noted the smallest changes, but it seemed to me that this was noticeable to all other people. I remember how I looked at my fingers of my right hand and thought - how am I going to get married, how can I give such an ugly hand for a ring? And if someone had to give a hand, then I tried to stretch out my left hand, on which the fingers were more even.
Toes, due to problems with ligaments and flat feet, also became a problem. One of the fingers ceased to occupy its place and was located, as it were, above the rest. Because of this, I began to wear socks or tights in front of everyone except mom and dad, doctors, or complete strangers. I was not shy about strangers, because their assessment was not important to me.
Gradually, as the disease progressed, my whole body became one big complex. Crooked toes, strong flat feet, slightly turned out insteps, very thin calves, a millimeter underextended left knee, a weaker and therefore slightly different in thickness muscle of the left thigh, narrow hips, retracted, as if frightened little shoulders, children's wrists , crooked fingers, ankylosis of the hands. Every millimeter of the body, so carefully and often critically examined by doctors, seemed alien to me. No, I didn't hate my body. I simply refused it. I stopped identifying myself with these arms, legs, joints. And therefore, no persuasions, exhortations, threats, terrible forecasts could no longer force me to engage in much-needed physical exercises. I did not want to waste my energy on something that I did not consider mine. To what I didn't consider myself.
All that remained of me was my intellect and character, which for the time being seemed to me impeccable, as if to compensate for everything else. And from the body - hair and eyes. This is all that I liked and seemed beautiful.
Of course, neither as a child nor as a teenager, I was not aware of all these problems. But unconsciously she reacted very sensitively to everything that could disturb them. So, once, when I jokingly told my mother that I would cut my long thick hair, she caught herself and, as if trying to dissuade me from jumping into the abyss, blurted out: “What are you?!! Hair is the most beautiful thing in you!!!” Yes, yes, yes, of course, what she meant or would like to mean is not at all what I heard. And yes, it wasn't a serious conversation. But the words hurt and ate very, very deeply. And now I may not remember my mother’s phrase exactly, but in my head it still sounds like this: “Hair is the only beautiful thing in you!”
In general, the phrases of relatives, whether dropped by chance or said in the hearts. It's something that shoots right through. Sometimes we hurt each other so badly that we don't even feel pain. Only shock and helplessness remain. And although our relatives love us and want the best, sometimes it is expressed in such a way that it would be better not to express it at all.
Once (I was eighteen years old), returning by car from a trip, my mother and I had an argument. The situation heated up, besides, we were stuck in a traffic jam, it was evening, everyone was tired and annoyed over trifles. Now I can’t remember the subject of the quarrel and my own words. But the following sounded to me: “With such a character, you should be alone!” Everything can be understood and forgiven. Consciously. But trying to protect your insides - childish, unconscious - is like waving a bulletproof vest after a point-blank shot. I remember how, in a split second, thoughts about the programs that are created in the family flashed through my head, and not resentment, but fear for both of us - what are you doing, mom ?! You just cursed me! On level ground!
It seemed to be able to dissociate itself from thoughts. I forced myself not to mystify. In addition, at that time I already did not strongly believe in the possibility of any kind of relationship with young people. But the fleeting fear that these words themselves could somehow affect my life, after more than once made itself felt.
It is surprising that never before or after this incident did my mother complain about my character and did not allow herself expressions in this form. In general, we always got along. Although the atmosphere of hyper-custody did not allow us to be truly friends. Both parents always knew better for me what to wear, who to be friends with, where to go and how to spend time. Without learning to resist it, I got used to thinking that this is how it should be. Adults make decisions. Plans are made by adults. They are responsible for my life.
The most terrible consequence of such an upbringing, which was realized not so long ago, is that I did not learn to want. To independently, truly and resolutely want something. All that was required of me as a child was to accept the proposal or to fight back. I still have some difficulty in formulating my own life goals.
But back to school. The complexes, although they bloomed in a riotous color even then, were not yet fully realized, did not interfere with living, enjoying and even falling in love.
First love was a turning point that made me seriously think about self-esteem. It would be strange if it were otherwise. But the young man I was in love with liked my best friend. By the time this story happened, I had transferred to another school.
The reason why I decided to leave after the ninth grade is worth mentioning separately. In our school, the system of couples of best friends / friends was somehow especially firmly built. From the elementary grades, everyone had their own “half”.
All but one girl who tried, as we childishly called it. “Recapture” one or the other girlfriend or wedged into one or the other company. Good in general, the girl behaved in such a way that no one had a relationship with her for a long time. She loved to lie, brag, gossip, tried to please everyone, especially teachers. And we laughed at her with some sophisticated childlike cruelty. Wrote some offensive verses. In general, they behaved terribly - like a real pack, taking up arms against one of their relatives. Our personal tough confrontation with her began with her attempt to “recapture” my friend from me. Sounds wild. But at school, everything was perceived that way.
The situation worsened for two reasons. Firstly, with my ... hmm ... "rival" I communicated well and in many respects listened to her the same boy with whom I was in love. Their parents have been friends for a long time. And therefore, having ruined my relationship with her, I, as I realized later, fell into the camp of people who were disliked by him. Secondly, I, being the youngest and late child, have always been very jealous. Jealous of parents to older brother. Although, due to illness, more attention was paid to me than to him, nevertheless, the feeling that my mother loved him more as the first-born and son made me terribly jealous. And so, when the relationship with my best friend was in jeopardy, I was beside myself with resentment, indignation and jealousy. Our friendship, which had gone through so much, was falling apart before our eyes. Now I became the third - superfluous. And it was so unbearable that I decided to finish the tenth and eleventh grades in another school. Since many of my company changed their place of study during this time, it was easier to leave.
Some time has passed. Friendship among girls did not work out. But our past relationship with my best friend was not the same as before. Sometimes our group of school-changers came to visit their old class. Everyone was happy to see us.
And even my lover seemed genuinely interested in how things were going for me at the new school.
The blow was sharp and deafening. Once we crossed paths with him at the birthday party of one of the former classmates. It seemed like a good, fun evening. I knew that my feelings for him were not a secret, although I myself had never admitted them. And, not knowing how to behave, perhaps she was too attentive to him. He was friendly and nice.
In the evening, after returning home, I surfed the Internet on a strange autopilot and, driven by some vague feeling, tried to open someone else's mailbox instead of my own. The box of that best friend. I didn't know why I did it.
But she could not get rid of the obsessive, burning desire to get there. It was that evening. Urgently. Like in a fire.
I easily managed to bypass the security question, and I got what I was so eager for. It was a letter just received from my unrequited beloved friend to my once best friend. Addressing her affectionately by name, he talked about how he went to her birthday party. “The defect was also there. - he wrote, - and for the evening I got very tired.
It was an incomparable shock, the strongest shame, jealousy and the first severe pain. For the first time in my life, I felt like an object of ridicule. The fact that the nickname was associated with the disease, and the fact that all this fell on the part of the most beloved people, all at once burned with such incredible force that the burns still have to be treated.
I turned off the computer, lay down under the covers and roared. The bell rattled just one question - guys, why?!
I really couldn't wrap my head around how I could make people feel that way. Accustomed to getting along with everyone, loved by everyone, I could not even think that someone could dislike me. It all seemed like some kind of mistake, a terrible injustice. The complex of an excellent student in everything except health did not allow me to think that I could get such an annoying “deuce” in relationships.
It turned out that my friends, as they later admitted, were not enthusiastic about my new nickname. A friend never called me that out loud and even tried to resist when others said so, and a friend called me - for company with an author authoritative for him. But all these explanations and justifications did not change the main thing. Feeling rejected and alienated so abruptly and unexpectedly, I remember this feeling as one of the most painful and terrible in my life.
At that time, I was not yet able to draw constructive conclusions. I could not understand that the lesson is simple: no matter how good or bad you are, no matter how you think about yourself, there will always be people who will not love you. And even if this is your fault and you really deserve such an attitude towards yourself, still someone's dislike, someone's rejection is not death. And if the external attitude knocks you down so much, it means that something is wrong with the internal support.
All this I was able to understand much later. And then, with the reading of this letter, "the erection of barricades" began. Now I myself, instead of mom and dad, began to protect myself from reality. No more surprises. I began to spend more and more time on the Internet. Joints due to constant sitting at the computer with breaks for sleep, the school (later the university) retained only the range of mobility that was used daily. And therefore, from the outside, few people understood that I had health problems: the usual hand movements, the usual gait, etc. But more than these movements, I could hardly do anything. Not squatting or Turkish, not raising your arms above your head, not braiding your hair, not reaching your toes. There was no desire to develop growing contractures of the body thrice rejected. Even the fear of dying from blockage of the joints, which the doctors put pressure on, did not work. Each yoga session was held in a state of anger at myself - I saw how complex asanas are performed by women in their seventies, and I, who is the youngest in the group, could not do even the simplest ones.
Studying with despair and anger, at first I felt the strongest progress, but then I collapsed with a serious aggravation - inflammation of the joints. Classes had to be stopped. The body thus protected itself from the flow of negativity addressed to it.
Back at the computer, day after day, I cocooned myself deeper and separated from the real world. Virtual life did not demand anything from me and did not threaten anything. Real life caused only inconvenience. For example, to put on winter boots, you had to spend ten minutes grunting and angry with yourself from the pain. Here you will think several times whether to go on a visit, if you have to go through this unpleasant procedure with everyone there. Think about it and don't go.
The peak of the then unconscious maladjustment was a virtual love that happened at the age of seventeen. The object was found the most suitable. Not some boy from a neighboring yard, whom, God forbid, you can inadvertently meet and get punched in the face by Defect, but a Moscow, distant, inaccessible guy from TV. Although by this choice I in every possible way "secured" myself from reality, nevertheless, the efforts I made were not completely virtual. With some kind of insane excitement, I got his phone, for months every evening I wrote lengthy-depressive-romantic SMS, and in the end I managed to interest him. He offered to meet. But, no matter how much I wanted it then, I was afraid a hundred times more. It was terrible to be for him all the same "Defect". To be for him what she was for herself.
Moreover, I realized my true fear, probably, only a year after I allegedly coquettishly wrote to him in response to an offer to meet: “You will be scared of me.” He, it seems, was really frightened by such revelations, and on the day of his arrival in St. Petersburg he turned off his phone. But after some time he again offered to meet. And again, not without my efforts, based on total self-doubt, the meeting did not take place.
A new virtual race has begun on the social network. I was added as a friend by a young man, a year older, from my university department. A virtual one began to spin ... not like a romance, rather a flirtation. For four months we communicated almost around the clock via SMS and on the Internet. And again I was faced with the fear of a spontaneous meeting - because of complexes and reassessment of what is happening. Moreover, as it turned out, while continuing to touchingly play with words, he felt this overestimation on my part, and therefore he himself avoided the meeting. I seemed to insist on the transition to reality, but meanwhile I myself was afraid even to call and hear a voice, justifying this to myself by the fact that, they say, girls should not take the initiative so much.
Gradually, I fell into a terrible dependence on this correspondence, and on some kind of obscure, mixed with fear, expectation that just about, well, now it will now come to life, turn into reality. But, alas, where it began, it ended there. After a while, it became clear that he was just lonely and lacked at least some warmth until his ex-girlfriend offered to restore the relationship. In addition, I really scared him a lot with affection that arose from half a turn, and very serious expectations about him. But most importantly, having firmly grown together with her fears and complexes, she was again not ready to move into reality.
This episode made me think deeply. For the first time I felt, saw from the outside not only my deep remoteness from real life, but also separation within myself. I realized that I exist in two dimensions. Sonia-social - the one that friends know, at first glance - adapted, sociable. She graduated from the university without difficulty, she has wonderful friends, in general, an easy life. This Sonya, as a rule, does not remember well that she has a body and prefers not to know anything about it. At the same time, she makes plans for a happy future, where she is both a woman, a wife, and a mother. True, dreams do not come true, since without a body this is quite difficult to do. And therefore, this Sonya lives mostly in the virtual world.
And the second Sonya is Sonya-at-home-and-at-the-doctors. Yes, she has a body. She knows everything about him. But it doesn't. Can't deal with him. Accept the fact that it belongs to her and must be lived in. This Sonya has no plans for the future, just as there are no thoughts that someone can take her seriously otherwise than as a serious patient and a sick, helpless child.
These two dimensions have separated from each other so much that any attempt to realize them at the same time and build some general plan of action has always ended in a "software failure", tears, panic and activation of various kinds of defenses.
And recently, these two Sonya had to meet. It all started with a symbolic parting with elements of fake protection - with a bra. On the advice of a wise friend and relying on her support, I overcame this seemingly frivolous fear. The bra over the years has become something serious for me, one of the boundaries, a switch between two inner worlds. Without him, I always felt like that real home Sonya, who has long abandoned herself and does not expect anyone's acceptance and attention in her life, except for parental and medical ones. With him - I got into that part of myself, which, although illusory, sees a huge happy future and wants to be a part of Life. And therefore, getting rid of this border was very, very scary. It seemed to me that I could not bear the reaction of others. I did not immediately realize that I was afraid not so much of the reaction to the visual change in breast size, but of presenting them with the inner real Sonya. So, just giving up an unnecessary piece of clothing, I took the first and very significant step towards inner reunion.
Soon my inner worlds crossed again. For the first time I went abroad for a long time without my parents. To India. There I was both Sonya, a child patient, and a person who communicated on an equal footing with adults (our group) and was not rejected by them, despite the crooked toes (in India it is customary to walk barefoot indoors) and the absence of boobs.
There, on the trip, two internal Sonyas had to meet in an even more unexpected combination ... On the trip, our group was accompanied by a young Indian doctor, with whom I had been treated for several months before. After talking with him in a new environment, I suddenly realized - then it seemed to me so. - that fell in love. Previously, I could never afford to fall in love, being in the subpersonality of the patient, sick and weak, which he knows as a doctor. As mentioned above, for me, this Sonya has always been a lost person with no future and no right to a normal relationship.
It turned out that he became the only man who recognized me from both sides and did not turn away. Both as a doctor and as a friend. When I realized that I was clinging to this particular thread, to such his exclusivity, the love passed.
Perhaps I even consciously rejected it, realizing that as soon as I accept myself completely (this I decided to achieve at all costs), the helpless deficit need for this person will disappear. And such an outcome would be unfair to both of us.
After India, I felt unsettled for a long time. Everything that happens this very rut thoroughly washed away. Having begun to gain integrity, to break down my inner walls, I began to discover in myself the first, timid, but common desires for both worlds. So, starting to communicate with a young man from the university (Herman) again, I could not understand why I was starting to go in this circle again. And suddenly, with an insight, I realized that I had not been able to express my feelings directly.
Moreover, I realized that I didn’t know how at all, since I had never tried it in my life. - to tell people about those feelings for them, which I do not give myself the right to in reality. And I did not give myself the right to everything feminine, to everything adult. And of course, thoughts were added: “Yes, where are you climbing? What a he is. And you ... ”Having realized all this, I realized that it was time. Just meet and tell it like it is. Not about attachment, as I had told him before, in self-defence.
Attachment I allowed myself - this is quite a childish feeling. And about love. And say, looking into the eyes.
I was terribly afraid and, having met, for a long time I could not start talking about the case. When I stopped breaking down and everything was said, he sympathetically, without judgment, said about these long foreplays of mine - "somehow it's childish."
Oh yeah. If only he knew how childish. This conversation, although it ended with the fact that we once again discussed our disjointed future, became a real little Everest for me. A few months ago, I would not even have imagined such a possibility. And here it is - we are alive, both. I feel and can talk about it. Due to the fact that I was rejected, my legs do not give way, my eyes do not darken. Yes, I'm scared, but I can admit to fear.
Layer by layer, I removed my armor. I was ready to become like everyone else, an equal part of the Whole. No worse. And no better. Not the same, but equal.
And now I am writing about my complexes, no longer afraid. Yes. "knowing the path and walking it are not the same thing." But the card is in my hands. And that means go ahead!
This story, remarkable in all respects, very clearly shows the possibilities of the word, its enormous, decisive power over the inner world of a person.
Let's once again pay attention to each "step" of the formation of personality.
Here is a girl growing up, gifted from birth, sharp-sighted, prone to analysis. Like any strong and thinking person, she early feels her "separation". She is healthy, smart, surrounded by loving people.
At the age of three, something happens that determines her future fate: a child who has not fully recovered from SARS is vaccinated against measles, which gives a serious complication. The diagnosis is rheumatoid arthritis.
But, despite the illness, the girl does not feel sick. Remember? “In the hospital, I felt more like a guest than a patient.” This is a descriptive phrase. The wonderful state of a person who is not internally immersed in the disease.
Such "inertia of health". This inertia could be used to maintain both the strength of the spirit and the physical strength of the child, if there was understanding on the part of the mother, who is loving, sacrificial and frightened by the illness of the child. But understanding, as well as the desire to understand something, the mother did not have. I am not writing this to condemn the unfortunate mother, who by her behavior managed not only to remain unhappy for the rest of her life, but also to pass on the baton of misfortune to her extremely sensitive daughter. I am writing to warn others.
Mother rushed about with her suffering, with her experience for the baby. She felt like the girl was a victim. On the one hand, she had every reason to think so. After all, the disease developed due to vaccination! The disease was not congenital. And now her girl must suffer for the rest of her life!
You can feel anything. But there is an old golden rule: do not show your feelings. This rule exists for our own good. Because feelings are very unreliable assistants in any business. And in the case of the recovery of the child - and there is nothing to say.
Gather strength. To believe in the best yourself and give this faith to a child who has not yet grown into his illness and feels healthy.
However, the mother did her best to take care of her daughter. She multiplied her care, splashed out her hypertrophied anxiety, thereby destroying the girl's psyche.
What gives anxiety? Does she help? Well, it seems like it does not let you forget that the child can be ill. But anxiety is the fear of what might happen. It hasn't happened yet, but it's potentially possible. Anxiety itself creates such an energy field of trouble and unhappiness. This is perhaps the only thing that brings a sense of anxiety to a person and those around him.
So, whatever it is, anxiety must be eliminated by any means. Learn to curb it. Or at least not show up. Or at least keep silent about your fears when you are next to a sick child.
Julia Vasilkina What to do if the child does not want to go to the nursery
From the book The Practice of Family Constellation. System solutions according to Bert Hellinger by Weber GunthardPractical work by the method of family constellation. What if I don't know what to do next? Berthold Ulsamer These reflections are addressed to therapists who are starting to work with family constellation. This is not a guide on how to behave, their task is rather to give
From the book Keeping Your Child Safe: How to Raise Confident and Careful Children the author Statman PaulChapter 12 What to do if a child has been sexually abused or abducted In the previous chapters, we looked at a number of rules and skills that a child can learn to avoid being sexually abused or abducted. If you teach your child safe behavior skills in
From the book 76 recipes for proper communication with your child. Tips for parents and caregivers author Svirskaya Lidia VasilievnaIf the child is sneaking around? This phenomenon usually occurs as an attempt to attract attention. Children often snitch because they believe that they can elevate their "I" by presenting other children in a bad light. In this case, parents or caregivers find themselves in
author Vologodskaya Olga PavlovnaIf the child is not a leader... Parents should not try to realize their unfulfilled dreams in a child, project their own expectations onto the child. The child must go his own way and choose it on his own. Every person in childhood chooses what is more important to him.
From the book Raising Independence in Children. Mom, can I do it myself?! author Vologodskaya Olga PavlovnaWhat to do if a child manipulates parents? Anyone who wants to influence the crowd needs a charlatan seasoning. G. Heine If your child is hysterical because you do not buy him another toy that he liked, if he does not understand that money
From the book Man and Woman. Minus 60 relationship problems author Mirimanova Ekaterina ValerievnaChapter 5 If you are still going to marry, or a good deed will not be called marriage. How to prepare for a wedding, live together? We play a game, what has changed, what should not be done, even if you really want to? You are becoming more and more convinced that your man is exactly the person with
From the book of Genes and the seven deadly sins author Zorin Konstantin Vyacheslavovich From the book Adopted Child. Life path, help and support author Panyusheva Tatiana From the book All the best methods of raising children in one book: Russian, Japanese, French, Jewish, Montessori and others author Team of authors From the book How to help a student? Develop memory, perseverance and attention author Kamarovskaya Elena Vitalievna From the book What to do if the child does not want ... author Vnukova MarinaWhat to do if the child bites and fights Probably, there are no such parents who would not find themselves in a situation where their cute baby suddenly clenched his fists aggressively or rushed to bite. How to act in such a situation? Pay no attention? Respond with aggression
author From the book 85 questions to a child psychologist author Andryushchenko Irina Viktorovna From the book 85 questions to a child psychologist author Andryushchenko Irina ViktorovnaWhen planning a pregnancy, buying lovely little things, it is difficult for a future young mother to imagine that a child will not be able to walk, hear, see or talk on her own. This idea prompted me to a recent post on Facebook by a woman who shared a photo where she, with a rounded tummy, smiles at life in anticipation of a miracle. Only the content of the post immediately dispelled the usual desire to like and scroll through the news feed. But the fact is that due to a medical error, her baby was born with brain damage and a forecast that he had a few months left to live.
shutr.bzCould this beautiful young woman have imagined that she would need all the strength to fight for the life of her son? This article is intended to support you if your child was born with special needs or became so due to life circumstances. This is a complex and difficult topic, because a disabled child requires special care and training, often taking away all the time from parents. And the period when he constantly needs his mother by his side will not end with the usual three-year decree. But life goes on, and the experience of parents who have coped with such difficulties, and psychologists who accompany the development of disabled children, suggests that you and your child can be helped to return to a happy life.
admit it happened
You must have dreamed that your son/daughter would become the smartest, fastest, best. But because of the terrible diagnosis, the possibility of "normality" disappeared, as well as the ambitious desires that the child would turn all your plans into reality. Yes, this is true, the child will not be able to run on a par with healthy children or, if diagnosed with mental retardation (ZPR) or early childhood autism (RAD), be like everyone else. It's just different, unique, beautiful, the best. The child came into this world just like that, which means that this is his life task - to cope with the disease.
The first and hardest step for parents is to accept the diagnosis. This does not mean that you gave up and stopped fighting. No, but your child will be able to receive special care and facilities to continue to develop. Working as a psychologist at school, I often came across cases when children with mental retardation are forced to simply sit through lessons with their peers. Hatching, because after a while they simply lag behind the program. At the same time, parents stubbornly ignore the fact that the child is difficult and that he needs a special approach.
Don't hide from the world
There are more and more examples when women accept what happened and do not make a secret out of it. The child feels that his mother accepts him, and this has a positive effect on the condition of both. For example, Evelina Bledans openly exposes photos with her son with Down syndrome, in which she looks very happy. Let people be uncomfortable for their condemnation or sidelong glances. You and your baby can be happy without waiting until the whole world becomes tolerant and sensitive. By overcoming the dark thoughts in yourself that everything went wrong as you wanted, you can enjoy motherhood just like all other women.
Seek Support
Parenthood means that you and your husband will join forces and fight for your child for as long as it takes. But a blow to the ego of a man (that the child turned out to be problematic), moral unpreparedness for such difficulties, a sense of guilt - this whole cocktail can lead to the fact that the family will fall apart. And usually the burden of all hardships remains on the young mother. With such positions, it is difficult to maintain optimism and a smile on your face.
If you decide to send the child to a special institution or leave it to the parents, this is your choice, and perhaps at first it will bring you relief. And you can look for support among parents like you, charitable foundations, organizations, ask for help from your family, but not shift all responsibility on them. It is not easy, but it opens up opportunities for self-realization. Most of the psychological centers and support groups were organized by mothers, who also did not know at first what to do with a disabled child.
What does a child's disability mean?
Unfortunately, we cannot force others to pretend that a disabled child is the same as everyone else. Other children can hurt both you and the child with careless statements and naive questions. You can be angry, hate others and envy other young women, or you can continue to live and change for the better: become stronger, responsible, fight for your child. After all, when a child is born with a terrible diagnosis, often they cannot help him, not because there is no money, volunteers find the money. Only the parents did not want to fight, they were afraid that their life would forever be connected with a disabled person. Often a child (especially if he has congenital problems) is just a symptom of family problems. And if you ignore such a message and do not start inner work on yourself, life will send another test. As an example, I would like to cite Elfika's therapeutic fairy tale "The Hunchback", which explains why a small child has a hump: like a generic message, a "frozen" back. Maybe it sounds trite, but in life nothing just happens and this lesson is given to us for something.
shutr.bz Finally, I would like to recommend Marion Petrosyan's fiction book "The House in Which...". This amazing book reveals to us the veil of mystery about how disabled children live, they have the same problems and experiences. You should not cry if your baby is different, he is alive and he is with you, and this is the first reason for happiness!
Hello WOS. I place titanic hopes on your advice, because everyone who has ever been tempted to give me advice ends up shrugging and shrugging (at best). Not that my story is short, I apologize in advance.
So, my life passes me by, and it does not seem so to me, but in fact. I am raising a disabled child who will never become independent, he is now 7 years old, and for the first four years I more or less coped. He was small, the situation did not seem so hopeless, and his father lived with us in the same living space - on mine, and this freed his hands. It was a ridiculous marriage just for the sake of creating a family and having a child, which I always wanted very much. And also in order to delete from the life of an overly significant person with whom it did not work out. This is marriage and reproduction ... This was my first, and perhaps the last, serious relationship with a man. However, the attempt to coexist with a male individual failed miserably, which now, from the height of past years, seems obvious. This experience turned out to be absolutely shitty.
Over time, I turned from an editorial overnighter into a home freelancer, and I still manage to provide food for myself and my child (albeit no more). In addition, she received two higher educations and a master's degree, while there was such an opportunity, and in the process she met a girl whom she fell in love with (by the way, a real serious feeling came across me only for the second time in my life). Well, in general, some development and some kind of vital activity took place. A rather useless husband was sent on a lifelong cruise, betrayals and lies are not my option, and the girl was not at all ready for the role of a full-fledged partner. She wants an easy and relaxed life, but she categorically refuses to part with me in order to have it. We have been dating for three years, and all these three years I have been sitting and waiting for her, from work, from courses, from cleaning the house, because my mother makes her. She reports to her mother for every step, and her mother checks her with phone calls whenever she is not at home (it is forbidden to spend the night not in her own apartment in which no one lives: she leaves on weekend mornings to call her mother from there from home. And she is not 16 years old, she is 26, and I will generally be 30 soon). In fact, we don't spend a single full day a month together. Sometimes we go to shopping centers to buy something, but because of the behavior of our son during such trips, it seems that this is almost in the past. There is no question of any trips to the ballet, to the museum, theater or other entertainment. Joint life too, and since I am alone - well, what kind of life can a freelancer have? Although I'm already a complete hand-me-down in everyday life.
My parents and relatives are in another city and, in principle, twirled everything, including my mother, my problems. As a result, I was swallowed up by utter depression and impotence, I can’t go to a psychotherapist - where will I put my child at this time? Household affairs are running to the maximum, efforts are invested in maintaining a constant stream of work orders, and there is not enough of them for anything else. 75% of my friends merged after my marriage (lesbian code), the remaining 24.9% - because I don’t go anywhere, and it’s inconvenient to visit me (I live on the outskirts). To look for new ones among brothers in misfortune - nein. I am enraged by all these mothers who are obsessed with their children, who teach me how to live and educate. I quit writing my PhD, I continue to learn only a foreign language, and I understand that in this position I will never make my girlfriend happy and will not give her what she needs. And I've already burned out all her brains about the fact that she spends little time with me. And she recently insists on getting rid of a disabled child rather rudely. There is nowhere to save him, in our Muhosransk there are no suitable institutions, either you completely surrender, or six months minus a cold (and then usually eight weeks out of ten times in a hundred years on a ticket), it is difficult to move and there is nothing - my housing belongs legally to relatives, she has nothing at all except a residence permit in her mother's apartment. Sesaaaaid and hopelessness.
I know that I myself am to blame for everything, with my laziness and many other things. But what to do next (even if self-disciplined), I have no idea.
Anonymous
Our advice: You talk about hopelessness and your laziness, but judging by your letter, you are a normal, strong person who understands perfectly well what is happening to him. But what exactly is your question?
You have described the situation in detail, and now, please, both for us and for yourself, formulate as specifically as possible the questions to which you would like to find answers. Because “what to do next” is too vague a request, it is impossible to get a clear answer to it.
Anonymous: 1. How to overcome the sense of meaninglessness of what is happening or, despite it, continue to try to make your life more acceptable?
I am a low-energy person, one of those who are inspired for a short time, but rarely brings something to the end without a regular pendel. As a result, the same effect arises when everything rolls there-where-it is undesirable-to name.
2. How does he feel about the behavior and position of his partner? It hurts me, on the one hand, on the other - I understand it perfectly. Suddenly, it is these relationships, where I feel depressed and inferior because of my position (and even more because of the girl’s frequent criticism) that depress my strength of mind, preventing me from getting together?
3. The question is optional until guardianship catches me. How to stop living in everyday chaos of clothes, garbage, bulls and unwashed dishes, saving time for work, child care and rest, if there is no way to create an interior organizer at home? This matter seems to be not so important, but it is increasingly depressing, and in many aspects.
Our advice: Thank you. Now you have worked hard enough on the wording and, as often happens, the answers to your questions are hidden in them. Let's be brief and start from the end (question #3). Understanding the surrounding everyday chaos and creating the illusion of control is necessary in order to control your life at other levels. Therefore, before you start to sort out life (question No. 1), force yourself (a little bit, but stubbornly), put things in order (well, what bulls, honestly!), Throw away everything that you don’t use (no, it’s not useful ) and tell yourself that from now on you will not shit, but maintain order so that later you do not have to rake up the rubble, but only do regular cleaning. This step in organizing your life will be the foundation for taking control of your life into your own hands, and a very powerful foundation.
Well, question number 2 is a classic answer in a question, it's great when you can make a person himself formulate a possible way out. In the first letter, you say that you cannot give anything to your girlfriend and you will not be able to while your affairs are in disarray, and she puts pressure on you, causing only guilt and causing you to become more closed and stagnate. Take a break in a relationship without a specific deadline. You still do not manage to spend a lot of time together and what remains is spent on sorting out the relationship. Explain to her that until you come to your senses, you will not be able to communicate. And no need to say that it's for her or for the relationship. This is just for you. And only when you feel that you have a resource for someone else, continue or enter into a new relationship. There is no relationship without a resource.