Having enjoyed a hiatus from being spat at, hit and told I was going to be killed, my Daughter has now stepped forward to put a block on any hope that things could approach normal around here.
Her paranoid sensitivity has returned along with her issues around food. It's amazing how quickly you can grow weary of a child who wails every time you don't do exactly and immediately what she wants. As for the food, I'd a;ready stopped buying the chocolate we used to keep around here for snacks and treats. I was sick and tired of having to hide it in different places because Daughter would just take it and sneak off and stuff her face with it all. The final straw was when she ate the contents of all four pots of cake decorations. No more sweets things in this house, I told everyone!
But I'm such a stupid, gullible person. Daughter was always quite keen on me buying Fruit Flakes for their pack lunches. Yoghurt covered raisins. Husband approved (he's in charge of the lunches), so I did. Having got into such trouble over the cake decorations, I didn't think Daughter would be so stupid as to take the Fruit Flakes left out in full view and very easily noticed if missing because I only bought six of them. But apparently she is as stupid as me because last night I just found two packets in her doll's house. I only looked in there because she made a point of telling me she was playing in her room with her doll's house and I knew, just knew, she'd taken something and was scoffing on it.
The awful thing is that I know this is not just bad behaviour, that this is communication of trauma of inner feelings of chaos and fear but right at this moment I don't give a flying fuck. I just want to be able to put biscuits in a biscuit tin or keep mousse in the fridge like a normal person.
I've had to stop the anti-depressants because of my stomach trouble and boy can I tell the difference. I liked myself when I was on meds. I liked other people a whole lot more too. I would still get offended or pissed off, but the feelings would quickly melt away. Now I'm back to being a nasty vindictive bitch who refuses to speak to her Daughter, tells her bemused Husband to fuck off, and hangs out of the window having a fag because it's the only freaking way I can find to stop wanting to murder everyone.
Daughter wrote me a note to say she was sorry, but I know she is only sorry that she got caught. She has taken every opportunity to show she is trustworthy and chosen to steal and stuff her gob, instead. I'm struggling to get into a place where I can make repair with her because I know that given the chance to take stuff again, she would do it and not give a fig. I don't want to make repair with her, I really really don't.
I hate this. I hate being like this. So what if Daughter steals Fruit Flakes and eats those instead of the proper, healthy meals I provide for her. I probably would too if my birth parents had been as shit, self-centered and downright neglectful and cruel as her parents were. Why the hell should she trust me to feed her? And Yet! I am furious at her. Absolutely furious at her and I can't seem to do a damn thing about it.
Other than go back on the chill pills.
I took a pill last night because I just wanted to sleep and I knew it would bring me down. I'm not normally the self-loathing type, but I don't think very highly of myself today. Seems the only way I can be the decent, kind, pleasant, lovable mother and wife that I really want to be is to get chemical help. That's not something I am proud of.