We’ve all had a helluvayear here.
Today, the hamster died. We were devastated.
It’s a helluvathing.
And I know some of you reading this are thinking, “it’s only
a hamster,” and although you are right, Kellin the hamster was a furry blob among
the many other furry blobs (big and small) we cohabitate with, she had so much
more meaning. She was the symbolic hamster.
No, this is not hyperbole. It is not the delusions of an
English teacher gone over the edge.
Kellin symbolized, for all of us, especially C2, the ability
to conquer a demon so large, so hurtful, so painful, so sad, that even typing
these words are making me cry. Kellin symbolized 128 days. That little ball of
fur with the beady red eyes (ech) symbolized mental health and positive
choices.
So let me explain. A year ago C2 revealed to me in the
Walgreens parking lot that she had been injuring herself. I like to think I
reacted well, but on the inside I was confused. I was so sad. I just wanted to
fix this. I may have stammered. I wanted to be full of God’s grace; I think I
was not.
Let me help. Let me help you, baby.
So we got her help. And it’s been quite a journey. We’ve
forayed into EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified). She got really
skinny. I really thought that we would lose her. I would lay awake at night and
plan, and plot and check on her, to make sure she was still here, and here, present in the moment, in our
family and still alive in her bed. I questioned my parenting, my marriage, my
job. I considered quitting work to stay at home with her. I wanted to pull her
out of school because of those bastard middle school little shits who brought
her pain and heartache. I wanted to throttle the administrators and guidance
counselors at her school who seemed to be so incredibly clueless and
ineffective. I wanted to do….something.
Something ended up being time and patience. Something was
many late nights reading about cutting, EDNOS and suicide on the internet.
Something was my maniacal decision to hide everything that I thought was a
potential danger in the house behind locked doors. Something was tossing her
room like some Russian spy looking for the Holy Grail. Something was love.
Something was tears, alone in the shower and together with C2. Something was
long drives to nowhere with my baby. Something was writing her notes and
leaving them in secret places. Something was watching my husband trying to
cope. Something was watching my husband, who has wrestled with his own recovery
for the past 28 years, relate to C2 in a way that I couldn’t.
Something was waiting for C2 to decide that she wanted to
get better.
I can’t lie and say I succeed in all of these somethings
each and every day. In fact, I know I was so far from what C2 needed on some
days, that I was more of a hindrance. And I also like to think that many of
those days I was just what she needed. That she KNOWS that every day with her
here on Earth is what I need. That she is my blessing. My everything.
So C2 decided that she wanted to get better, so we drew
butterflies on our arms (check out http://butterfly-project.tumblr.com/
for more information) and talked about “triggers” and we counted days. We hung
her count on the fridge. We celebrated when that number increased. 10, 42, 75,
84, 97, 128.
And a relapse.
Talk of hospitalization. Frantic calls to her
counselor and the crisis line. And then we went back to doing our somethings. We
circled the wagon, kept her close to home, and we began the count again with
the promise that when she reached 128 days again she could pick something that
she really wanted. She picked Kellin.
So, that hamster was so much more than another furry mouth
to feed. She was special. She was a reward for SO MUCH HARD WORK…WORK that C2
should be SO proud of. So, yeah, we’re overwhelmingly SAD that she died. And
YES, I let my kid stay home from school today and eat ice cream and watch an
entire season of Glee because she was SAD because that was a SOMETHING, the
something that she needed today.
C2 – can you pick a new reward that can’t leave us!
*There are over 2 million people in the United States who
self-harm. Of those 2 million, the majority are young girls, although it does
affect boys too.
Know the signs, open a dialogue, get help.
Dear C2:
I cannot express how proud I am of you. Your journey is
yours, so thank you for letting me share this. Know this for certain, you are
MY LOVE, MY LIFE, MY EVERYTHING. I am so blessed that God sent you to me. I am
so happy that you chose to stick around, to get healthy, to keep moving
forward, one step at a time. I am thrilled that you put up with me, my
uncoolness, stupid jokes and sometimes thoughtless words. Know this, each and
every day that I am here on this Earth, I am here to keep you safe. I am here
to love you. No matter what you do, you can’t EVER shake this mama bear. So,
thank you for choosing to get better. Thank you for being you. Xxx000
>3
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