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In order to set boundaries, we have to believe we are worth having boundaries. We must believe that we have the right not to be violated. We must have the self-esteem to say no.
There are two sides to every coin, right?
Having offered up my list of what I, as a parent, wish educators knew about childhood psychiatric illness, it seems only fair to play devil's advocate.
Anxiety and worry are a part of life. Properly functioning anxiety helps us find our courage and overcome limitations. But sometimes, anxiety becomes dysfunctional and leads us down a road toward debilitating, circular thoughts and constant preoccupation with past or possible life events (read about anxiety attacks and anxiety attack symptoms). To top it off, when you discover that your anxiety is out of control, you may also feel anxious about your anxiety.
My response to a recent comment asking, "should I homeschool my mentally ill child?" I, personally, would not. Here's why:
My last post was about accepting the limitations that having a mental illness puts on us. The examples I used in that article were:
Not watching upsetting movies
Maintaining a strict bedtime (not staying out late)
Not watching / reading the news
These are three of things I do to maintain stability. As commenter Mary Ann stated, these limitations might be considered enduring the illness rather than suffering per se. But I say tomato, tomahto.
But regardless, these limitations are self-imposed and the rules they bring about are there to keep me safe. In response to a commenter’s question, here are a few more rules I obey:
My oldest son, Bob, is ten years old and in the fourth grade this year. As such, I have been involved with our local public school district for five years. Since Bob's formal diagnosis (mood disorder, ADHD) in the spring of his kindergarten year, I have been working with--and against--teachers, counselors and school administrators in an effort to allow my son the best quality education possible.
My physical health doesn't give me trouble as often as my mental illness. I spend a lot more time dodging mental bullets than a cold or flu. But sometimes we get sick. Physically sick. Sometimes, when everything is going well, we wake up feeling like we got hit by a semi.
This week is National Eating Disorder Awareness week, and I think it is important to highlight the link between eating disorders and substance abuse. As a person who struggled with both, I feel it is important to bring awareness of statistics and research in this area.
National Eating Disorders Awareness Week 2012 is this week. This year's theme is "Everybody Knows Somebody."
According to the National Eating Disorders Association, ten million women and up to one million men have anorexia or bulimia, and millions more struggle with binge eating disorder.
That means that you most likely know somebody with an eating disorder.
About 6 months after I left my abusive husband, I met a man who I've come to love. The loving part was easy - he's a complete turn-around from my ex-husband. My new love treats me kindly, he cooks for me and my children, he's generous with his time and affection. He tells me I'm beautiful and doesn't expect me to fall over myself with gratefulness that he said something nice to me! Perhaps better than those cosmetic qualities, he wants to hear my thoughts, he asks me how I feel, and, after I tell him these once-guarded intimacies, he does not tell me how misguided and delusional I am.
I read this book many years ago, just as I was entering the turmoil of remembering, questioning and doubting myself all the way (as I'd been covertly taught over a lifetime). I happened to mention to my two sisters one day, "This is so strange but I've been diagnosed with PTSD." Both my sisters surprised me by responding, "Me too."
THEN I happened upon an old book manuscript that my now deceased father had written (not published), wherein the protagonist was obviously based upon himself and he rapes his "fiancee," who had my unusual name. Yes, truly.
Then I made myself look at the peculiar memory I always had where he violently threatened me but somehow I had never been able to recall what came before or after the episode. I had to admit that was a bit strange.
The pressures and powers to forget sexual abuse are great, both in family and society. In fact, I've come to the sad conclusion that the vast majority of survivors never really deal with their childhood wounds (a neglect for which there are always repercussions).
To critique an encouragement of people trusting their intuition in such matters is really getting the prescription dangerously wrong.
Thanks!