I'm Afraid For My Daughter

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
61

Your older daughter sounds a lot like our younger.

Our younger daughter is 29 now, has a good job, a few good friends, and I think is past the worst of it. She was a cutter through her teens, she left home for a couple of years in high school to live with her biological father (who had no custodial rights, but that’s a story for another day), and she is ever holding herself to nigh-impossible standards. She has struggled for a long time with various eating disorders and body dysmorphic issues. As far as I know, she has never been diagnosed with BPD, but she has had more than her share of treatments for various depression- and anxiety-related issues. Also, as far as I know, she has not had any suicidal ideation, but in all honesty it wouldn’t surprise me if she did, and we just didn’t know about it.

And I wish I had some kind of magic bullet or sage advice to give you, but I just don’t. I still worry about our daughter, just not quite to the degree I used to. She’s getting better at channeling her obsessive tendencies toward more…productive?..pursuits. She was an ultra-runner for a while, she is very career-focused, and insanely careful about her finances (and obsessed with her credit score; watching her struggle with wanting to increase her credit score to the max while simultaneously not wanting to hold any debt at all was actually kind of funny). I know she still has her dark times. She doesn’t talk to me about them as much as she used to, but she does periodically, which I take as a good sign.

The only thing that seemed to occasionally work with our daughter in terms of guidance/advice was to gently steer conversations such that she would, herself, arrive at a new insight, or admit that something was a problem. She’s whip-smart (like your daughter), and can smell a lecture or too-strong advice coming from a mile away. Being too forceful or confrontational is a sure way to shut down productive conversation. I spend a lot of time just listening, and when I do speak, it’s often to ask an open-ended question that will draw out more from her, or to say something about how I feel, or what I do in a certain situation, while making it crystal clear that I’m not saying that she should do a certain thing or behave in a certain way.

There are no certainties in this world, and I can’t predict what will happen with your family. I can say that, for myself, there were a couple of years where I wondered if I would ever see my daughter alive again. Today, I actually consider her a friend, and I look forward to her visiting. I wish the same for you and your relationship with your daughter.

For the record, we worry about her older sister, too, but for entirely different reasons. That’s for another time.

62

I knew a kid who had a nervous breakdown when he went to Georgia Tech (at the age of 14); it was the first time in his life where he was not the smartest person in the room. Also for the first time in his life he had to crack a book and actually study.

I don’t think he ever got over it. I lost track of him but I don’t think he ever went back to school, any school.

Jenny
your humble TubaDiva

63

Let’s latch onto that perfection thing.

She was sad/jealous because her friend’s art is much better then her own, according to her own words. You said “there’s no perfection, just happiness” or something to that effect. But hell, maybe mercilessly improving her skills and trying to reach “perfection” might be her own path to happiness?

I know it’s not that simple, and I don’t want to trivialize things. But maybe, if that becomes her modus vivendi and the reason to get out of bed the next day, in combination with good therapy might be a nudge in a good direction.

At any rate, best of luck to both of you.

64

I’m sorry to hear you have two daughters with problems. That’s rough and I can relate:

My youngest, “Kim” (sweet 16), was dealt a bad hand even before birth. She had a major stroke at age 15 months which resulted in complete left hemiparesis (paralyzed left side of body). It took weeks to get the definitive diagnosis (I don’t want to post the name lest my daughters Google to this thread). Dye angiogram showed evidence that she had her first stroke in utero.

As soon as she was stable (2 grueling months, fearing she’d have another stroke) I took her to Boston Children’s Hospital by train (didn’t want to risk plane air pressure … and I’m agoraphobic). She had two high-risk brain revascularization operations, one week apart. Recovery immediately after each operation was excruciating for both her and I. I was told to keep her calm because a spike in BP could pop the blood vessel sutures. They could only put her on mild pain meds. When she woke she was writhing in pain for hours. I thought I was going to lose her, both times. But she made it through with flying colors. She actually re-gained nearly all of her motor function on the train trip going home.

Before the operation, she was in a fog. After the operation, it was like she she was reborn. Thankfully her strokes caused no cognitive impairment, in fact I think the revascularization helped rewire her neurons and made her smarter than ever. About as sharp as Pam.

I credit this guy with saving my daughter’s life. The best surgeon in the world for her condition. I credit my ex for nearly ending her life. On one of the rare times she took the girls on her scheduled weekend, she didn’t medicate Kim properly, she didn’t keep her hydrated and she took her from a cold movie theater to nearly 100 degree Florida weather outside.

I got a call from Mom (not a hint of anxiety in her voice), *“Kim passed out on the grass and I can’t wake her up. What should I do?”
*
“You call fucking 911, that’s what you do!” Kim spent the next week in the hospital. She’s left with left foot drop and a weak left hand (and she’s left handed). Mom doesn’t play favorites, she nearly killed Pam the following year (but, I won’t get into that in this post).

Despite Kim’s left side weakness, she doesn’t let it get her down in the least. She stumbles every once in a while and classmates make fun of that, but she just laughs it off. The kid’s a rock.

I’ll share these photos so you can see her action. Kim’s the little blonde. Pam’s the brunette. The big blonde is nanny Sue (she had a tough childhood, too). I’m proud of them all.

And, if there are any artists reading this, I’d really appreciate your opinion on some of Pam’s artwork. I’m not an artist, but I think she has potential.

BTW, Kim just got back from visiting her sister and Sue. She dyed her beautiful blonde hair dark purple :frowning:
She also said Pam’s got a date with a new boy this weekend. So, I got some vetting to do!

65

Holy crap a stroke at 15 months??!!??!! That’s one hell of an ordeal for you.

66

Her artwork is amazing! She is really, truly talented.

67

Yeah, I’m no art expert but I’d say there’s potential there. I can’t even imagine a stroke in utero, though. My best to y’all, and I hope you keep us updated.

(While I can imagine it was a shock, I bet the purple hair is lovely!)

68

Will any of them be offended if I say “cute kids”?

I really like the drawing with the musicsheet shirt.

Re. perfection in art: visiting El Prado gave to several young Spanish painters, all of them previously trained in the “academic” style of the times, a horrible shock. None of them was going to be anywhere near good enough to clean the brushes of the master of masters, Diego Velázquez. So each of them set out on separate and parallel journeys to explore paths Velázquez never traveled. The group included Dalí, Miró and your daughter’s beloved Picasso. None of them “was born knowing”; all had to learn and grow (even Velázquez).

69

What lovely, talented and intelligent young women you’ve raised. Good job!

70

Wishing your daughter and everyone who cares about her a better future.

71

I can see a bit of myself in Pam. I was also really smart and did ALL the things. My parents didn’t put pressure on me, I did, and I was devastated the first time I got a B on an assignment. I was in high school when that happened, I’m not even lying to you. I also have depression. Part of it, for me, deals with me taking something I do well and making that my whole reason for being alive and valued as a person. Then, if I’m not perfect at it, I beat myself up. So, when I got to college, and had to actually work, I couldn’t get perfects on everything. The tests weren’t even designed to be done that way. And every time I got less than the best, I had to flaggellate myself.

So I had a mental break down. Starting therapy was hard and the first thing I had to learn was that my value wasn’t in being the smartest and the best. I couldn’t pin my identity to that. I had to find that my value was intrinsic in my being a human being.

Since then, I’ve done OK. I still have suicidal ideation from time to time, but I don’t self harm any more. I do eat my feelings though, not the best.

I’m sorry you and your family are going through this. It sounds like Pam is pretty resiliant though. I would keep reminding her that she has value just as she is. Just for being human.

72

While the originator of that statement is problematic and the post is badly done, PMDD is a real thing and should not be dismissed as impossible. Especially given that some of the problems started around the onset of adolescence.

The OP can’t answer the question, but he could clue his daughter in to start charting her moods and her hormonal cycles. That might establish whether there is a possibility of PMDD.

73

You know, a lot of people have jumped on you for this question, and I think it’s unjust.

Yes, there’s a vast difference between PMS (or it’s more severe form PMDD) and the kind of issues discussed in this thread.

BUT - with any kind of mental illness (or hell, physical illness), relatively “little” things that are peripheral to the main issue can make it that much harder to cope with the main issue.

I used to get pretty cranky “the day before”. If someone has PMDD, it’s gonna be that much harder to deal with the underling issues, be they BPD, depression, or whatever.

So it’s not out of line to look for any kind of patterns or irritants - be it monthly, the season, long work hours, allergies, or whatever - and try to reduce the effect of those other factors.

My kid didn’t evidence any special pre-period behavioral changes, though on day 1 she did tend to need to crash, and I suspect she was less capable of dealing with Aunt Flo’s unwelcome kick-in-the gut than someone NOT dealing with mental illness. Me, I would eat some chocolate and take some Advil, and an hour later I’d be fine. The kid? not so much.

74

Thanks Nava. No, they’re not offended by being called “cute.”

… however, I’m a little offended you didn’t call me cute :mad:.

I’m gonna start uploading lot’s of pics of me doing adorable things.

… just kidding … that would not go well at all :eek:

75

The bit about her teaching her therapist about DBT sounds like her having to be the best at everything. In other words, it may not be a problem with the therapist at all. It seems likely she’d do the same thing regardless of who is treating her.

I’m no expert on BPT, but I thought that one of the hallmarks of the disorder was black-and-white thinking, especially about other people. Someone with BPT alternates between idealizing and hating individuals, which makes it hard to maintain relationships. It’s also characterized by fear of abandonment. I don’t see these traits in Tibby’s description of her daughter. Am I missing something, either in my understanding of the disorder, or in my reading of Tibby’s posts? Or is it possible that BPT is a misdiagnosis?

76

The hate-love thing isn’t limited to individuals.

My aunt was born in Barcelona; eventually she married, begat two kids and divorced there. After a series of more or less unfortunate relationships, she finally glommed onto a guy who told her “I like you but I don’t even like kids roasted”, left her kids behind in the care of the Grandparents from Hell and moved in with the guy. First 5 years or so, everybody there was a country bumpkin unworthy of her attention. For the next 25, that place was the center of the world and everybody else blew goats. Barcelona wasn’t merely a shithole, it was the Whore of Babylon of Shitholes. It was the Shithole to end all Shitholes, the source of all ugly and nasty things.

After two years of being his widow, she suddenly reverted. Now she lives in one of Barcelona’s “side quarters”, makes fun of her neighbors for referring to “the center” (=downtown) as “Barcelona”, despises “the center”… and of course, anybody who doesn’t live in Barcelona is somewhere below country bumpkins. She’s got similar stories regarding hobbies and habits, which she often combines with a trait she shares with her mother (RIP) and sister: rewritting history. She’s never ever ever drunk alcohol, never mind how many times her then-teenaged daughter helped her into bed. Nope. Not ever.

Thing is, since those changes tend to go in relatively long waves, they’re not as attention-grabbing as some of the other stuff. It’s not something most people would list in the first round of “reasons this person is extra-complicated”.

77

I believe BPD is a correct diagnosis.

Pam certainly is a bit of a control freak, but she has had therapists who she likes and didn’t try to control.

Fear of abandonment is definitely a component of Pam’s disorder. Her mother abandoned her many times in many ways over the years.

Kim didn’t care and was happy when Mom moved out (to a house she rented less than a mile away and moved her boyfriend in with her). A couple years later, after I filed for divorce, I asked Kim how she was handling not having a mother in her life. She replied, “don’t worry about me, Dad, I never had a mother and I don’t need one now.”

Pam took it personally. The more she tried to build a relationship with her mother, the harder Mom pushed her away. And neglected her. And endangered her life. And berated her for everything she did.

I’m convinced Mom is a sociopath / narcissist. I can cite a multitude of examples (I may list a few in another post; she’s an interesting case study). She never bonded with her kids. She really never liked or wanted to be near them.

One saving grace is that she didn’t infect them with her DNA. She gave birth to them but isn’t related. Both girls were IVF donor egg babies. Pam learned that the hard way. We agreed to not tell the girls about being donor egg until they were teenagers. But, for some twisted reason, Mom thought it was a noble gesture to have donor egg babies and bragged about it to everyone she could, including the mom of one of Pam’s elementary school classmate’s—while the kid was standing there.

Pam came home a couple days later in tears. She learned she didn’t have a “real mother” from kids taunting her at school. Mom’s reply? “That girl better learn to toughen up.”

78

On another note, Tibby, you and your daughter have my sympathy for what y’all are going through.

One of the problems that gifted children have is that everyone makes so much of what is easy for them (learning, solving problems, etc.) that the same everyone expects the gifted child to be equally as good in other areas.

It doesn’t work like that though. Yeah, in elementary school I had the vocabulary of someone in high school, but I didn’t have the organizational skills of a kid my age, much less a high schooler. And no one was teaching me such a thing, all I got was “You’re so smart, why can’t you do this?” Y’all are the adults, why are you asking me?

cough sorry for the rant.

79

Or even in other subareas of the same thing. Yes, I’m good at geometry: doesn’t mean I understand how mathematical demonstrations work. Yes, I’ve got a big vocabulary with lots of big words: doesn’t mean I understand what to do when my teachers tell me that the way to “make my poor descriptions richer” is to “write better” (it took me a while, but I eventually realized most of my language teachers didn’t exactly have Nobel-writer-level language skills themselves).

Absorbing that kind of impossible expectations is unhealthy, but it happens to a lot of kids.

80

Just a quick update: We had to put our dog Daisy to sleep today. She was a good dog and lived a good, long life. I miss her. Our cat Tibby misses her. My daughter Pam misses her. But, mostly my daughter Kim misses her (she was her dog). We got Daisy when Kim was 2 (she’s now 16) and she’s completely devastated. This “whole circle of life” thing sucks sometimes.

When she was younger, Daisy used to dance around in the kitchen on her 2 back paws when she wanted a treat. If there’s a doggy heaven (and there should be, dammit!, I hope she’s now dancing for treats there too.

In better days:
Daisy 1. I admit, I did some photoshopping on her smile.
Daisy 2
Daisy 3

RIP old girl, you brought much joy to this family!