Hello Me, it’s good to have you back!

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, Its Back To School We Go! Mollie Goes to School

Hello Me, it’s good to have you back!

Living with PDA is no small feat and can often require the complete and utter sacrifice of the main carer. This ultimate sacrifice can simply but completely be the sacrifice of oneself in every shape and form. This is not true in all cases as many children are affected to varying degrees by their condition but, for me and for many more parents that I know via support groups, it certainly is, was and will be the case for many.

Every essence of me, and of who the person that I was simply had to be sacrificed in it’s entirety in order for me to meet my child’s needs. I had to wipe blank my whole personality and my needs as a human being in order to support my child. I, in effect, became a robot who I often felt was only there to service my child with her every want and whim and to remain emotionless during the numerous meltdowns, violent and verbal abuse.

Infact, it was whilst I was seeking help and support from ‘Mind’ that my councilor informed me that my mind set was similar to that of a person who had suffered domestic abuse. I could no longer describe who I was or what my purpose in life was. I was to all intense and purposes simply an extension of Mollie and of PDA. I was gone and PDA had become the only description of who I was. Without PDA there was nothing of me left, such had my caring role consumed my life and every aspect of my inner soul. However the sacrifice was one that I had to make, there was no choice, my child needed me and if that meant complete self sacrifice then that was what I was going to have to provide.

In time my life and Mollie’s simply became two brains, two bodies and two souls walking the same path linked by an invisible membrane that kept us inextricably together and would not allow us to part along individual paths. A parent recently said on a group that she and her son where simply one life, conjoined together and inextricably intertwined. This analogy is so very true for Mollie and I. Our lives did indeed become one, at times it often felt that the union was not a fair and balanced one but at other times we were so completely and utterly in tune with each other.

Together we battled the injustice of being so totally and unfairly misunderstood, her as the child and me as the parent. Together we reacted the same, we fought tooth and nail against the misunderstanding of others and then exhausted from the battle we both retreated to the safe haven of home. Together we both mourned for the loss of the outside world that lay in view outside of our window, we mourned for the acceptance that we both craved but which alluded us at every turn and we mourned for the loss of being able to be our true selves.

Eventually we learned how to co exist in harmony with each other. After years of me having suppress my inner being in order to nurture and nourish Mollie she began to let me be me again. Also after years of the world and I trying to make Mollie be something that she simply couldn’t be I learned to accept her just as she was, thus giving her the freedom to be her again.

We still need to both adapt to each other due to our very different mind sets, ways of dealing with things and our own individual priorities. We are two very different people but through PDA we did become united as one single entity with a very real and shared experience of coping with the outside world when you are perceived as being different, at fault and not accepted.

With maturing years Mollie has naturally and through teaching, adapted her behaviour so that it is acceptable but without having to squash the true nature of who she is out of her. I have also had to adapt my behaviour in order to fit in with Mollie’s needs, at times I did have to completely squash the true nature of who I am out of me in order to do this. However as her mum and the adult this is surely my place to do so. But slowly and in time she allowed me to re piece the inner me back together and I am gradually beginning to feel like me and to feel whole again.

We crumbled together, we fought together, we withdrew together in order to protect ourselves from further harm and now we are healing together and beginning to find ourselves and to step out into the outside world together. We are one life, one experience, one true understanding of each other and we will always be forever inextricably linked in our shared experiences and understanding of each other. Only we truly know and understand what each other has gone through and endured during our journey with PDA.

Now that we are both growing in confidence and healing from our wounds it appears that the membrane that forced us to stay so close together is relinquishing it’s hold and gradually stretching. Mollie is now wanting to mix with peers, attempt school again and have a life of a typical teenager. I am going to slimming world, the gym, spending quality time with my husband and doing arts and crafts. PDA and the reactions of others forced us to become one and while we will always have that unique bond of our shared journey we are also becoming individuals again and finding an individual life for ourselves.

We have driven each other nuts over the years and life has been tough and unbearable at times. But now the light of hope is shinning bright and strong, beckoning each of us in different directions. Mollie is becoming a wonderful, strong and funny young lady who wishes to find friendship with peers and I am beginning to find me again.

Hello me, it’s nice to be back and to feel like me again. I am stronger, wiser and more knowledgeable from the experience. I will never be the old me but it is exciting to see who the new me will be. The most important aspect is that I am now free to be the person that I was perhaps destined to be and maybe PDA was the signpost that I needed to find that true person and to fulfill the role that life’s grand plan had in store for me!

Was I really destined to own a bed shop for my natural life or was I destined to do something more, something that would reach and help far more people than simply selling them a bed. Perhaps this is also true for Mollie, was she destined to be a run of the mill kid or was she destined to make a difference for the benefit of others. I like to think that the latter is true, there have been times, and there still are, when the thought of life’s true destiny and it having a plan for both of us is the only thing that has kept me going.

Thanks to a wonderful head and team of staff at a local Pupil Referral Unit who have taken PDA onboard, read and learned the strategies as well as valued our input and who have also gone to extreme lengths to meet Mollie’s needs, with great humour, enthusiasm and no pre-conceived judgment, things are looking even brighter than I ever may have even dared to hope for.

Tomorrow my courageous and brave daughter is attending school for the first time in over two and a half years, but that will be another chapter and another blog post. The purpose of this post is to give hope to those who are still fighting for air and battling to adapt and to survive in the bear pit that is, at times, life with PDA.