So here it is.  It’s 4:00 AM and I’m on my computer blogging.  I just can’t sleep, and you know, I don’t even feel tired.  I spent the majority of the night dreaming about Vale, that something was wrong and I was afraid.  The odd part is, I found that the awake part of my mind trying to sooth my asleep and dreaming part of my mind in an unusual way.  It seemed that I would pull out of the depth of my sleep to where I was aware enough to hear my husband softly snoring or breathing in that heavy, even way you do when you sleep.  In that moment, I was comforted because I thought it was Vale, and I was assured that he was indeed okay.  I think if I could have fallen back to that deeper sleep perhaps I would have slept peacefully, but instead I woke all the way, realized the sleeper I heard was my husband, and was annoyed at the man!  Poor husband.

My next impulse was (and honestly still is) to go into Vale’s room and watch him sleep.  There isn’t a lot of available light in there, streaming through the window from a street lamp or the moon itself throwing beams our way.  So I would have to bring my own artificial source.  I could use my cell phone, I guess.  But if the light startled him and woke him, that wouldn’t be fair, although it wouldn’t be the first time he caught me gazing at him while he slumbered.  And the alternative of waiting until my eyes adjusted so that I could see him in the completeness of the dark is a worse solution, for if he woke to find me then, he would most likely become frightened, and that would just not do.

If I had my little wishes and could compel them to reality without concern for the consequences, I would have myself a spacious king sized bed.  I would somehow carry Vale into it and nestle him down between his father and I, in the safety that I would create, and sleep.  That way, when I would dream my danger infested visions I could reach for his hand, or hear his rhythmic sleepy breathing, or smell his hair and know that he is fine.  But nothing comes without it’s aftereffects, either for good or bad,  and in true mom fashion I must think of Vale’s needs before my own.

I’ll get to look at him all I want in the daylight.

Fallout: More delicate issues

This posting will be brief and more sketchy.

Fallout occurs in even the more intimate of moments. Thoughts about what your child went through enters into your mind even then. It can be quite difficult to push through the invading images. The irony of that is, in trauma, you need the connection with your spouse more than before. But because your child was sexually assaulted you can easily slip into distorted thoughts. Not very romantic.

It’s terrible.

Golden Joinery

Washington Post Article

I read at the preceding website about this rare but beautiful pottery.

Kintsugi means “golden joinery” in Japanese, and it refers to the art of fixing broken ceramics with a lacquer resin made to look like solid gold. Chances are, a vessel fixed by kintsugi will look more gorgeous, and more precious, than before it was fractured.

Hmmm, the Japanese know their stuff don’t they.  They value the repairs and know that it makes their pottery more beautiful.

Vale, my very own piece of Kintsugi pottery.

More from Art Therapy



This is another example of what our family has done in art therapy.  The real purpose of posting it is to enlighten another family about what may occur in these types of treatments.  

The therapist gave each of us a piece of paper and various drawing implements; pencils, markers, crayons etc.  She asked each of us to make some sort of scribble on each of our pages, an idea that appalled Vale.  I guess his OCD doesn’t allow the unbalanced mess of scribbling.  After each of us did our own scribbling, and Vale did his version of controlled doodling, we had to pick which scribble to use to create a picture.  Then, as a group we would decided what picture we saw in the scribble and bring the picture forward by adding elements.

The scribble chosen was mine, since I had less on my page and they all felt they had more to work with.  The decided that they saw a face in it and each child added an element.  Dolorosa added the eyes, youngest the nose (replete with nose hairs, ugh), Grey drew in the hair… Payne decided that it should be called Nude Ascending a Staircase, so Vale added the staircase.  The kids thought that the sides of the picture looks like cheeks being pushed back by velocity, as if the person was falling out of a plane.  Hence the airplane.  

The picture turned out like nonsense, but the point of the exercise was to have the family work together to create it.  I don’t know how much we learned from it, but it was fun. =)

Examples

There are so many things I want to blog about that all the noise from them dancing around in my head is making it difficult to actually post something.  Ridiculous right?

Something that’s been troubling me for a while is inviting those younger members from my church to read this blog.  I did it for Vale’s sake because if they have greater understanding they would have a greater ability to help him out.  But the idea of them reading the contents of my heart and mind are very disturbing for me for two reasons …1) am I setting the right examples for them, which I fear the answer is no and 2) is the entirety of my blog appropriate for them, what would their parents think.

This blog is the place where I hold nothing back, the entirety of my mind is spilled here and I do so for good reason.  I don’t want to do so in front of my children because they can’t and shouldn’t have to handle all of that.  Blogging it gives me a good, healthy and appropriate outlet.  Also I want to help other families.  If I can’t be honest about what’s going on, if I truncate the pain or the reactions to our situation it may tell other families that what they are experiencing is wrong or inappropriate.  I want other families to feel like they are not alone, so I can’t accomplish that if I’m being too careful with what I post.  Everything I write is completely real and sometimes brutally honest.  I struggle.  Sometimes I fail, or flail around trying to do right.  I do end up on my knees despairing, I also have my arms raised with triumph.

Where my conflict is how I move through some of the more difficult times or moments.  I wish I was able to be more victorious.  I wish my spiritual condition was more solid.  I don’t want to be a bad example to these young men or others who are reading my blog who are followers of Christ.  The other day when Vale and I were down at the basketball court, and Vale was struggling with playing ball that day, the Doctor came over and I explained to him why Vale was so anxious, he was wearing a tshirt for the first time in front of his peers.  The Doctor reminded me of the scripture, “Casting all your cares upon him, for he careth for you” (1 Peter 5:7).  I looked at him and felt rather blank, wondering how this verse pertained to me, I thought how naive he was for thinking that Vale’s ears could hear that now.  What my response should have been was to live like this truth indicates, but I’m not.  I worry, a lot.  I’m so scared, a lot.  I’ve developed panic attacks because of my response to this situation.  Does my example teach these young men that these verses are great while you’re young and in youth group, but when you become adults, you find out they don’t really ‘work’?  Is that what I’m doing?  I would hate to think that that is what they find when they read this blog.  I believe that verse!  I know He cares for me, so that I don’t have to be afraid, but I still am.  And I really don’t know how to stop being afraid.  But this I do know, I know that God loves me enough to want to teach me how to accomplish it.  If Christianity is a walk, I haven’t abandoned the path, I’ve just sat down for a while.  Can they see that?  It would kill me to think that I’ve impacted their walk with Christ negatively.

So is the answer to that that I need to start editing myself in this blog?  I can’t do that either!  I can’t pretend that I’m this WonderMom who has everything under control and even when she’s cleaning up her son’s bloody arm that she does it with a smile and complete assurance that everything’s okay.  Even as I type those very words my stomach is turning and I have the stench of cooper in my nose.  When you run a bloody wash clothe under hot water the room is rank with that odor.  My thoughts turn to the other families who read this and say, “OMW, that happens to me too!” because knowing someone else is experiencing the same trauma is so comforting.  How can I sell them out?  How can I sell myself out?  I want to look back at these early days of our blog and say, ‘Wow, we’ve come a long way!”  I still go to church quite regularly.  It is still a priority in my life, albeit it is more of filling an obligation or performing a duty than a real deep desire.  I’m still involved in church, teaching, ministering.  I still think about the things of God and what He would have me do.  I’m still fighting and trying to work things out.

No, I won’t invite my church at large to read this blog.  There are too many people who are narrow and legalistic, who would judge the reaction instead of the intent.  I’m thankful God isn’t like that.  I think about Elijah a lot.  He had this huge spiritual victory and then became so lonely and discouraged he actually asked God to let him die.  God didn’t give up on him, in face God allowed Elijah to have this time in the wilderness and He tenderly fed Elijah by His own hand.  I think God is doing this now, for me.  He isn’t riding me or condemning me for every fear, racing heartbeat or panic attack.  I will be strengthed by God and restored to full fellowship with him, just like Elijah did.  And I don’t expect to go on to do the great wonders and ministry that Elijah realized, and I certainly don’t anticipate being assumed into Heaven by a chariot of fire, I believe that there is a full life and ministry waiting for me on the other side.

Doctor.  Captain.  Could you learn that from my life example instead?

Is it just depression?

I don’t wanna do *anything*.  I just want to sleep.  I want to go lie down with Vale curled up next to me under weighty comforters creating seclusion, where I know he’s safe, I can feel the warmth of is living body, breathe in that spicy smell that means him and just sleep… and sleep… and sleep.

I’m the mom, trying to keep 6 children motivated and on track and I don’t want to do anything myself.  Holy crap how am I going to keep this up.  I have to find some way to break through this gelatinous mass of inertness and reach motivation.

I’m a spiritual anorexic and my joy is gone.

Fallout: Restaurants

I certainly don’t claim to speak for all parents of children who have eating disorders.  I don’t know nor understand every nuance that ED’s slimy presence creates.  All I can speak of is from my own.  In our experience, restaurants are problematic.

From what I’ve seen, the issues with restaurant eating for Vale are these standard 4 problems: 

  1. The pressure of ordering in a timely manner
  2. Fear of ordering too much food
  3. The pressure of eating all of what’s on the plate
  4. Feeling that everyone’s watching

Since there is eight of us in our family, when we eat out we need to be a little coordinated.  I try to keep all the kids focused on looking at the menu and figuring out what they want so that when the waitress comes (and nearly cries when she sees all these kids) we’re ready.  In times past Vale would look for the most bang for the buck.  Ironically the concern then was getting enough to eat, but I digress.  So as we’re perusing the menu picking out what we’d like, one by one a menu will close followed by, ‘I’m ready’.  Each ‘I’m ready’ causes Vale to slip further down his seat.  

The Fear of Too Much Food… ooo, sounds like a B horror movie doesn’t it?  This one I don’t get a whole lot.  Common sense would dictate that if it’s too much food, simply take it home with you right?  ED distorts thinking so much, so common sense isn’t too common.  It’s almost like he doesn’t want to see that much food on his plate.  Is it appalling to him?  Does he think we’re going to cram it down his throat?  Anyway, because Payne has food allergies we eat at the same couple of restaurants.  One of the ways Vale deals with the ‘what to order’ pressure is that he’ll only order the same things time and again.  If someone else tries something new he’ll ‘measure’ that and perhaps next time, but no branching out lest he gets too much food.

Vale knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I watch every forkful that goes in his mouth.  I try desperately not to let it show, or let him catch me watching him, but I don’t always succeed.  And yes, when he’s eating in his minimalistic fashion I do try to encourage him to eat 2 more bites etc.  We do NOT, however. do the whole, “You will eat every bit of that Young Man or you’re not leaving the table” kind of strong arming him.  That would be insane.  Vale knows the truth, the facts.  If he drops too much weight he will be hospitalized.  Period.  That’s just the reality of it.  So in a very large sense he himself alone is responsible for keeping himself out of the hospital.  So I wonder if his fear of having to eat everything on his plate is the sane side of him wrestling with the insanity.  The clear thinking part of his brain knowing he needs that food fighting against the distorted perceptions of the ED telling him he does not, and hence the pressure to eat everything.

Aaaaand people watching him eat.  This is pertaining to people outside our family.  I don’t know who he thinks is watching him, but it’s definitely stuck in his head that people are watching him eat.  Payne thinks it’s because he’s so worried about how he appears to other people?  Maybe he thinks that if he’s picking at his food other people will draw the conclusion that he was sexually abused?  I don’t know.  The thing with eating disorders is nothing that the eating disorder person does in relation to food or eating makes sense.  We have quite a few eating disordered young women who follow us and the vast majority are recovering and fighting (you GO girls!!!).  And I look at their blogs and see how beautiful they are… but every regained pound is problematic.  I just shake my head.  They’re gorgeous!  I guess the reason is that eating disorders aren’t really about how you look, it’s about how you think you look.  Well I think we have the most fantastic followers, and yes, I’m talking about YOU!

As a special caveat to our restaurant experience we have one last looming issue.  The knives.  If you go to a better quality restaurant, you get better quality (read: sharper and more dangerous) knives to cut your meal with.  So when we eat out, I see what kind of knives are on the table, and just how many there are.  When the meal finishes and the waitress comes to clear the dishes, I try to keep count of how many knives have left the table.  It can get a little mind boggling especially if a bus boy or another wait staff member is helping.  It’s not like I can say, “Hey wait a minute, how many knives did you clear?  My son’s a cutter see and…”  Yeah that would be fantastic.  We’d *never* get Vale to go to a restaurant again!

One day… one day Vale will have kicked this monster in the head and going to a restaurant will be the joyous, celebratory time that it was in days past.  I have faith in him.

Introducing…

…two more siblings.  Vale has 5 siblings and you’ve met Payne already.  Well two more siblings want to come aboard and have picked out names for themselves.

Grey:  Grey was the artist of that picture that I posted a week or so ago that the he drew during family art therapy.  Grey shares a bedroom with Vale… Grey is the one who dreams dreams.  He’s 13, totally into Legos, BIONICLES and all things building.  He has a quiet and introspective mind that picks up far more than I wish.  He is not as outwardly demonstrative of his support of Vale, like Payne is, but he carries the burden in his heart.  I often hear him give Vale encouraging words.  I’ve asked him why he chose the name Grey and his answer is, “my own personal reasons”.  So there you have it.

Dolorosa:  I’m gunna call her D for short.  D picked out this name because she said it meant ‘sorrowing’ and the fact that she researched it tells you a little about her.  Dolorosa is my drama queen, cries at a drop of a hat and is super sensitive.  She misses how things were with Vale and tries not to make a fuss and draw my attention away from him by getting lost in her mini obsessions which are currently Star Trek, Star Wars, The Hunger Games and Les Miserables.  D loves fiercely and is equally devoted as well.  She’s 3 years younger than Vale (11) and her personality often clashes with his, she’s very vivid where he is blank, but he knows she’d bleed for him.  Dolorosa will fight tooth and nail with Vale concerning his sexual abuse, but his eating disorder and cutting are harder for her because she’s so sensitive.  She still struggles looking at his scars.  She tends to drive Payne crazy.  But siblings will do that right?

Maybe they’ll write a post or two.

Coached into Silence

Link: Coached into Silence

Please watch this trailer for a documentary on CSA.  This is one film that needs to be made, and you can help!  Please consider donating even a few dollars to these film makers and enable young voices that have been silent for too long to finally be heard!  There are no bystanders in this war!

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” (Edmund Burke)

Question:

How old is your son, and how long has he been self harming? I’m a sixteen year old girl, and I’ve been self harming for about four years, and my parents have only known for about a year. I like to see it from a parent’s point of view, because it helps me stop. Also, I really do enjoy your blog. It’s the first blog I’ve come across that is intelligent and from a parent’s point of view. Sorry I’m anonymous, I just don’t want my business broadcasted with my name by it. Ha.
Answer:

Hi !

Thanks for your question and all your kind thoughts.  I’m glad someone enjoys the blog and that it’s beneficial to someone else besides me!

My son is 14 and has been cutting for about a year.  He stopped for a short period, but picked it back up.  We didn’t come to know about it until 1 month ago today.

I’m so glad that you can see things from a parent’s point of view and more importantly that it’s helping you to stop.  Every time I see Vale’s arms I feel sick inside.  He’s my baby, my child.  It hurts so much, I can’t express it with words.  It’s wonderful that you’re trying to empathize with your parents and stop, at least partially, for their sake.  I would pray that you would stop for your own sake, because you learned to value the most amazing gift ever given, your life. =)

Totally understand the anonymity.  I don’t broadcast our names either. ;)

 

Question:

Question: RE your post on Vale: If you are struggling with having him tell his story over and over, maybe you could approach it from the perspective of writing? It might be safer if he has that distance. I know that’s helped me in the past.

I really like your posts so far. Thank you for talking about this issue. <3

Chungyenhttp://morereasonsyoushouldntfuckkids.tumblr.com/
Answer:

Hello,

Thanks for taking the time to read my blog and reply.  I’m really humbled that anyone is taking interest in this story.  I’m going to try to write about why I have started a blog, and actually one of the reasons is to bring this into the open.  It seems more culturally acceptable for girls to express their feelings etc, but it’s taboo or not manly for a boy or man.  Boys are self mutilators.  Boys have ED.  Boys are molested.  Boys need help.

I agree with you, writing is an incredible outlet, which is the other reason why I am blogging.  It’s cathartic for me.  We (his dad and I) do encourage Vale to express himself through writing and through art.  He has a journal where he writes poetry which is quite beautiful  (which I hope he lets me post one day) and he draws.  He also takes pictures and reflects his feelings through the edits.  In fact, you may be interested to know that Vale has started a tumblr blog as well, where he has posted some of his photography.  You might be interested in visiting that.  You can find the link for his blog on my page.

Thanks again for writing to me with your advice and support.  I appreciate it.

~Vale’s Mom