Patience Please

Michelle has been experiencing far too many emotional meltdowns than I’m used to. These meltdowns happen at random moments, without warning and constantly shift on severity. The more I think I have figured out the culprit to what the cause might be, I’m quickly proven wrong. Chalk it up to teenaged hormones, her medication, the TSC messing with her brain or all of the above but in the end it still comes down to I’m a guy trying to figure out how a woman thinks. . . . On an insane level.

            This morning alone I have seen two meltdowns and one manic laughing fit within a span of five hours. The first meltdown was at 6:30 this morning. She came into my room bawling in tears and screaming like she had a night terror bordering on an encounter with Freddy Kruger. Instead the cause had to do something about Woody from Toy Story, but she was babbling so much that I have no idea why. I held her and calmed her down until I convinced her that she had to go back to bed because the sun wasn’t even up yet. She complied and we were able to get another hour of sleep before she burst in my room again laughing hysterically. Now these aren’t so bad although they can be a little creepy at times. Being woken up in the middle of the night to a kid maniacally laughing is more unsettling than having it happen at four in the afternoon. Finally her last meltdown this morning was her yelling at something in the kitchen. After a while I finally got her to calm down enough for her to tell me that she wanted her to go away. I thought it had to do with one of the photos on the refrigerator so I had to get up and show me which on. It turns out it had nothing to do with a photo but the digital clock next to them that no longer had the number “5”. That took a while to calm her down.

            It’s frustrating at times dealing with her. Although she is mentally challenged, there are other parts that are your basic teenager. Back talking is the newest teenaged action she’s learned. More recently I am no longer “Dad” but instead I’m the evil oppressor that only says no to make her life miserable. Even when I try to explain the reason I’m saying no or go against her wishes, she will hear none of it. Those moments she’s a typical teenager. Unfortunately there is only so much I can deal with and I’ve yelled back.

            Yes I’ve felt like a jerk right after, especially when I’ve said something mean in anger. It makes it worse when I realize I’m yelling at a teenager who’s mentally at the level of a 5 year old and not a fifteen year old, angst filled young woman. It’s the equivalent of kicking a puppy.

            What have I learned? I make mistakes, I screw up and I have to learn from them. The first thing I learned was from advice by my mother. Sometimes there is nothing you can say that will make it better but showing that you’re there for her is all she wants. I also learned that a long hug works most of the time and finally there are times she needs to have a meltdown and she needs the space to do it. Basically she needs what we all need. And I learned that I need to just have patience. Sometimes more than usual.

Those Teenage Events

Today was Michelle’s last day of school and school dance. It’s my one chance a year to dress her up for a school event and normally she’s more excited than I am to attend it. This year she was excited but there were some issues.

Beginning the day before, her emotions seemed to be under better control. There was no fighting, no uncontrollable crying that came out of nowhere and she seemed excited to be going to school. This morning she was a little moody but nothing too bad. Getting her ready in the morning only had one small meltdown of tears, but given today we were getting her ready for a dance it didn't seem like a sign of medication side effects. I got her dressed in a blue strapless dress we borrowed from my girlfriend and I drove her to school.

In hindsight I should have realized that her wearing a strapless dress might be a bad idea. “It seemed like a good idea at the time”, still plays out in my head. She had a couple of wardrobe malfunctions that thankfully weren't seen by anyone and we arrived to her school where she was the center of attention.

Then things started to change. Immediately she started to get upset with people around her, yelling at other students and not wanting to eat breakfast. Her behavior was quickly out of control and I took her out of class and calmed her down. This isn't easy normally and since the new medications were added has become more difficult. The best solution is to hold her till she’s calm enough to listen, get her to take a few deep breaths and negotiate with ultimatums. It doesn't always work but it’s the tactic that has the best odds. Finally she calmed down and she made it through pictures before I left and she had fun at the dance.  

After school she came home is a great mood although a little hyper but within a few minutes the mood swings began and the crying, yelling and throwing tantrums took over. Luckily she was able to be calmed and the rest of the night went smooth.

In my opinion I think she adapting to the medication and the side effects are less and less of an issue as days go by. Some of the emotional outbursts are the same she had before the new medicines but she’s not out of the woods yet. I admit it’s frustrating when she gets like this. I want to walk away sometimes. I sometimes need to quickly remind myself that she’s not an average teenager who I can simple ground and take away privileges hoping she’ll learn from her mistakes. She needs prompting constantly. She needs someone there to calm her down more than an angry parent yelling. There are times I forget that and I apologize. I know her better than most people but I feel lost. I am a single father to a special needs teenage girl. Now I have to deal with all the things about being a teenager, the exploring, the moodiness, the physical changes, having to keep a mental note of when her next period is going to happen and comfort her through the cramps and calm her down when she starts bleeding. I have to buy her first bra and try over and over to teach her how to put it on. I have to constantly remind her to close bedroom doors and keep an eye out for all the bad things in the world. This is something I expected her mom to handle and instead it’s my job to teach her how to use a pad and occasionally help her. This is the age where she was to be independent and all of this was to be a mystery to me. I don’t think I will ever get used to this and I can never expect anyone else to take over. I’m her parent. I have family and friends who give me great advice about what to do but in the end it all falls upon me. I’m never walking away from that but I will always feel awkward throughout this part of her life until she can, if ever, be fully independent.