Our beautiful daughter is standing 6 inches from my face...screaming at me. In these moments it is difficult to see the beauty I know exists. I struggle to break free from her irrational anger, hurtful words and need to cling to my body. I beg our daughter to stop…but, truth-be-told, I am not and will not beg. I instead work really hard to keep my cool, channel patience that wanes every week and exercise the words/tools I have been taught by more counselors than I care to count. If it appears I am begging it is simply because I am exhausted by an illness that is and will remain relentless. Our uninvited guest certainly has no intentions of packing it bags soon, regardless of how many times we have politely dropped a hint. Maybe it is time to not be so polite.

The physical discomfort of the moment will pass. It always passes. It is the emotional damage I worry about. Our youngest daughter cries and pleads with me to do something…”Mom, fix it. Make it stop.” Our son quietly retreats to his room and into his devices. How can I not feel like a failure? And darn it, I think I am starting to feel resentment toward our oldest daughter and the situation we have been in for 18 months. And…shoot…now…I feel guilt for feeling resentment toward my child. A few days after peace and calm I will analyze the situation, question my recollection/response and wonder if there might be something wrong with me. It is an exhausting and viscous cycle.

But instead of relenting, I will continue to stand my ground and teach my children through my own actions the importance and value of self-preservation, perseverance and accountability. I will remind them that we do not lean on the excuse, we do not sit in it and we certainly do not give up or give in expecting others to fix it. Yes, I can continue to let my daughter…my children…my family lean into the disease (or mental illness)…an excuse…or I can push us into and past the discomfort. It is only if my husband and I model it, will our children learn, value and trust their own strength and perseverance. Sadly, as much as all parents might want to or wish we could, “fixing it” is not our job. But…always and forever…teaching is and will be.