Let me start at the beginning.
I was so excited to have another baby. Soon, I would have two baby girls! My second child was my first natural birth. She was tiny! She opened her eyes and looked right into mine, and I fell in love right away.
At six months old, she would close her fists and her face would get red with anger if she didn’t want to be put in her carseat. I joked that she had the fiery temper of her Latina/Italian heritage.
She grew into the incredible, intelligent, strong 5 year old girl she is today. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes that turn into laughing half moons when she is happy. My beautiful girl whose name means “light of God”; Liora.
But, her anger has only grown with her age.
I have felt helpless, hopeless, desperate, and depressed. I have felt insecure, inadequate, and incapable.
I have held her strong little body as she flung her fists at me, raging at me until she collapses into a heap of sobs.
It could be smiles one moment, and rage the next. Playing one moment, hurting the next. Toys have been hurled at my head. Her finger nails have broken my skin. Her words have sunk into my heart like a knife; “I hate you”, “your not my real mother”, “you don’t love me, nobody loves me”.
Of course, I know it isn’t true. I know that she needs me more than she can express. I know she hates her explosive anger more than I do.
Lately, she has described her anger to me like this;
“My anger is a person who holds me down and wont let me walk away.”
“My anger is like a remote control.”
She wants walk away. She wants to be in control. She comes to me in tears after the anger flees her body and her true self is back in control; sorry. So sorry.
It impacts her big sister, who cries to me about why her sister isn’t nice.
It impacts her little sister, who is starting to imitate some of her behaviors.
We have gone to therapy, and tried many different things. Right now, we are focusing on being loving and firm. She needs those limits. She needs to understand that she cannot hurt people, even when she is really angry. But she also needs to know that she is LOVED.
It impacts her self image. Somtimes, she sees herself a bad kid. She thinks God doesn’t love her, neither do her parents. That breaks my heart more than any little fist she has thrown at me.
It is this impossible balance of love and discipline. It is this terrible fear of “am I doing the right thing for her?”
Raising a child who has explosive anger is a path I did not plan to walk, but here I am.
In my nightmares, she doesn’t get better. In my nightmares, she is 15 and hates me.
But, in my dreams she overcomes her emotions. She is strong and powerful, but gentle and kind. Despite her anger, she is deeply sensitive and loving. I believe in her, and I will never give up helping her.
For now, it is one day at a time.