Why Am I Never Enough?
When Anne and I started writing this blog posts about shame, it was a pretty far off and “in the past” topic for me. Not unfamiliar, but not one I have encountered face to face for a while. That was of course done writing my first post. Yup, life is like that. My daughter scared us pretty bad when she landed in the Emergency room with ketoacidosis, a serious complication of diabetes that occurs when your body produces high levels of blood acids called ketones. The condition develops when your body can’t produce enough insulin because you have the autouminue disease Type 1 Diabetes. We were had no idea, because no one in our family has this desease, and she never had any symptoms to indicate that she may have this. She is however already suffering from severe anxiety and sensory processing disorder, which made the hospital stay and all the needles a very difficult endevour, to say the least.
Through all of this I kept thinking thoughts like “Seriously?” and “I can’t do this”. I felt like I simply did not have it in me. Here I was, a mental health professional, but when it came to my kid, I had nothing. When she was screaming about a finger poke, I stood around like a frozen statue. When she tried to raised the roof when they had to get yet another IV into her very flat little vains, I felt all the blood drain out of my face and I wanted to bolt out of the room. I was ashamed of myself, of my inadequate parenting that somehow did not prepare ;my kid for this particular moment in time, for my immaturity in the face of all these young nurses and doctors (I am 48 years old for crying out loud and this is my fourth child) and for my lack of professional calm or poker face in the midst of the chaos. I could simply not remember a single breathing exercise or grounding technique I’m suppose to have at my fingertips. I was still mom, I was still strong, and I was still there, but I was so ashamed.
However, there is an exception. When children have mental disorders everyone freezes. Parents are afraid to talk about it and friends are not sure what to do. Should we offer dinner? Should we offer to help in other ways?