I usually Don't Do This......Rant on Bullying

Okay I usually do not do this. I have only had three hours of sleep and I have a long arduous day ahead of me. I was trying to go back to sleep but I unfortunately read this article while getting my oldest to the bus stop and it just kept replaying in my head. I have OCD,sue me. I decided sleep was never going to come visit if I didn't get this out on paper and release the total amount of complete anger that was pumping through my veins.

The article can be found here:
http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/11/13/mom-draws-criticism-praise-for-blog-urging-bullied-kids-to-toughen-up/?intcmp=latestnews


Apparently, a mother and blogger by the name of Stephanie Metz wrote a blog about children and bullying called," Why My Kids Are Not The Center Of My World." In it she references that children should "toughen up" about bullying......She shared the post on facebook and it snowballed to a huge number of readers. Congrats, I think. She is receiving criticism as well as praise but my issue isn't just with her, it is with the whole article.

Just to be clear her children are four and two. 

Just to be clear on Mrs. Metz's attitude about bullying and parenting, all of her knowledge comes from the knowledge of a young parent raising young children. Her kids are four and two. Unless Pre K has gotten "harder" and more cut throat then when my children were that young, then I can't see why we are all running to take advice from someone who has no idea what children going through bullying is remotely like.  That is of course, assuming that there isn't a rash of pull up wearing thugs pushing  toddlers off the swing set while waving around juice boxes in a threatening manner.

Having a child that young of age does not make you a bad or a good mother. It makes you an inexperienced one. It is silly to rush out and believe what a  young parent is spouting off about, simply because they are a new parent and they think they have discovered some new found knowledge. Come back to me when your kid is over the age of ten and then we can talk about teenagers and bullying and reminisce when our children acted more like children and less like us. In short Mrs. Metz you have no idea what parenting a child that has gone through bullying is like and therefore your opinion, it's a free country so you are allowed to have one, is invalid and highly disappointing. With quotes like"I feel we are creating a generation of victims" how could I not be disappointed? I personally feel like we may be creating a generation of self indulgent, ungrateful, selfish, bullies with no self control or compassion ...but maybe that is just me.....because of comments like what you just said.

We will get back to you in a second. My other main gripe is that the article then goes onto a so called expert of bullying who I sincerely hope they misquoted. I mean how else could someone who is an "expert" leave such golden little gems as:

"I've coached those kids who are over-parented and you kind of want to give them a T-shirt that says `does not play well with others,"' said Coughlin, who's also a soccer coach. "It does make for some fragile children when we over-parent."

and

"This over-parenting also is almost a perfect storm for creating serial targets," he said. "Over-parented children are more likely to be serial targets than non-over-parented children."

Yes, because it couldn't simply be that some kids are just assholes. No, it is always the victims fault and also the victim's parent's fault for not being cool enough or for having parents that actually pay attention to their child's needs rather than ignore and neglect them like some parents do. Pissed off yet, Yes I sure am. As someone who was severely bullied I take high insult to such ridiculous beliefs. Hell, if I would have known that all I needed to do to not get beaten or laughed at was to just not have a great relationship with my mother then I could have saved myself years of being tormented. Obviously it was all my mother's fault for loving me and not the fault of the bully's parents for not giving them the tools to have a decent self esteem and healthy communication skills. Wow, I had no idea.

You know, because victims aren't victimized enough we must all make sure they know it is their fault for not being like everyone else, for being weak, for being good caring people. This cannot continue we must make sure that they know that the fact other kids take their things, call them names, stalk them on the internet, and push them is their fault,. What a load of bullshit!!!

Here is a couple of facts about bullying I think would be pertinent to know:

http://www.bullyingstatistics.org/content/bullying-and-suicide.html

Suicide is the third leading cause of death among young people, resulting in about 4,400 deaths per year, according to the CDC. For every suicide among young people, there are at least 100 suicide attempts. Over 14 percent of high school students have considered suicide, and almost 7 percent have attempted it.


Bully victims are between 2 to 9 times more likely to consider suicide than non-victims, according to studies by Yale University


A study in Britain found that at least half of suicides among young people are related to bullying


10 to 14 year old girls may be at even higher risk for suicide, according to the study above


According to statistics reported by ABC News, nearly 30 percent of students are either bullies or victims of bullying, and 160,000 kids stay home from school every day because of fear of bullying

But your are absolutely right, Mr. Coughlin and Mrs. Metz they just need to toughen up about it. It isn't like it is a life and death struggle to deal with bullies on a daily basis, right?

I would like Mrs. Metz and Mr. Coughlin to realize the severity of their statements and in doing so I would like them to sit across from the parents of the seven year old who hung himself because of bullying, the fourteen year old who did the same after bullying on her facebook, or the twelve year old that through herself off of an abandoned cement platform to her death because her tormentors told her to kill herself over and over again. I would like them to sit across from them and all of the not as widely reported parents of children that committed suicide due to bullying and look them in the eye. I would like them to look them in the eye and tell them their kids needed to just "toughen up" and not be "a generation of victims." I would like them to tell the parents that no longer can go home to hug their children, that it was their fault because they cared too deeply or parented too much. Not the fault of those that knowingly abused and tormented their children because they have crappy parents or terrible lives. Not the fault of the people that ignore the abuse and bullying and sweep it under the rug because they are too lazy, indifferent, or believe the way that you do. Not the fault of anyone else but the people that now have a vacant, empty, gaping hole that can never be filled ever again because their children are gone for no other reason but some punks wanted to have fun and hurt innocent undeserving children. When you can sit there and do that then I will consider reading your advice or even bother listening to your ridiculous tripe you call an opinion. Come back to me after your kid has been bullied to the point he is depressed then we can talk. Otherwise do the world a favor and don't open your mouth about something you have not had to deal with yet ( and truly hope you never do and never have to know what the pain of the parent is like when it happens to your child). They may not be the center of your world, but my children are the center of mine and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Neurotic Nelly

105

I did everything right. It's the one thing I can absolutely say I did everything right on in my whole life. Both pregnancies I stayed on the gestational diabetes diet and never cheated. When my first quack doctor told me to check my blood sugar six times a day even though I was only borderline with gestational diabetes with my first baby, I did it. I stabbed myself in the fingers six times a day with the blood sugar meter, I affectionately call it the finger torture machine. I drank only water and tea. I quit smoking. I walked a mile a day because my mother told me that it would make childbirth easier on me. I went to every appointment and did everything the doctors suggested and told me to do. I put soft music in my headphones and placed it on my belly because I had read somewhere the babies can hear it. I stayed away from alcohol going so far as to not even eat food if it were cooked with it. No sushi, no medicine, nothing. I even refused to take nausea medicine when I had morning sickness unless it was approved by my doctor. I did everything in my power to make healthy babies, smart babies, safe babies. I did everything right.

My husband is handsome, smart, handy, and kind. He is considerate, loves to read, loves history and Egypt, can cook, and he is completely and beautifully normal. I thought that when I had my children surely his genes would be more dominant. His normal genes had to trump my withered poisonous mentally diseased genes. My kids surely had a 50/50 chance of not having OCD right? I mean my mother had three kids and I am the only one with OCD. Sure, my siblings have other mental illness issues but they do not have OCD. Let them be smart and creative like their father. Let them be strong and brave like their father. Let them be normal like their father. Just please don't let them be like me. Please don't be like me. Please don't be like me. Please don't be like me.

It started with my oldest child around two. He would line up his crayons by color. Not too unusual but I just thought maybe it was due to quirkiness. My oldest is brilliant and could read by the age of four. The age of four was also when I realized my son was not quirky. He has OCD. I tried to glaze over it and I hoped and prayed my illness would go away from him. That it would just cease and not plague him with the guilt and shame that has plagued me all of my life. My mother had bought me a pair of shoes exactly like hers. My  oldest son was bothered by me wearing them. They were Nana's shoes and he would get highly upset if I wore them. No amount of talking to him or explaining that they were not Nana's actual shoes but ones exactly the same would calm him. I had to put them in the closet and never wear them in his presence. It's hard to describe how I knew this was OCD except that I have had OCD since I was four and I have a deep understanding of it and how it works. I can spot it anywhere. Kind of like OCD radar if you will.  He seemed to be exactly like me in a lot of ways. He is smart, funny, and over sensitive. I know my child and I know OCD. I can't explain it except that a mother knows when here child is suffering. I just knew. To me it was obvious. However, I felt that maybe it would just drop off or be a very slight case and all would be okay.

 Last year at the age of nine I started to discuss with him a little about OCD. I told him that I have it and if he ever had upsetting or unwanted/scary thoughts he could tell me because I would never judge him. That I have them too and therefore I would understand. We are very open and honest and I love that we have a very strong bond and we can talk about anything. I learned how to be that way because my mother was that way with me and I thank her everyday for being that way with me. She saved my life by being there for me with OCD and I have no illusions of what my life would have been like if she hadn't been my mother. Three months ago my son confided in me that he has intrusive thoughts. He didn't know what they were but I did. We are in the process of finding him a therapist. I felt like I was kicked in the stomach. God, please why my children? I wanted to scream. Please don't let him hurt like me. Please don't let him feel the guilt of the thoughts and images he can not control like me.

Last night, I sat alone on my porch at three in the morning. I listened to the crickets chirping and the air conditioner fan buzzing and I wept. I silently sobbed for an hour and a half. I had accepted that my oldest was like me even with everything I have tried to do to prevent it. I accepted it but I was not ready for last night.

My six year old is all elbows and knobby knees with his two front teeth missing. I have seen the signs in him as well. He washes his feet more than I wash my hands. He is very particular about his bed being made....ect. He was getting ready for bed. He accidentally cut his gum with a straw. No big deal, but his reaction was. He was afraid to go to sleep. When I asked him why he said because he didn't want to bleed to death in his sleep. He didn't want to die. It wasn't just the statement that got me, it was the fear in his voice and the tears in his eyes. Again I failed. He is also just like me. After explaining to him that he was just fine and was not going to die he looked at me and asked if I was going to leave him. When was I going to die? I was flashed back to 1985 and my bedroom obsessing over these same questions. Crying to my mother and being so terrified that I would be left alone. That she would die. That I would die. Anxiety and fear pulsing through my veins. God, help me how did they both end up like me? I did the only thing I could do. I reverted to what my mother used to say to me that worked for my six year old brain. My mother would tell me that I would not die until I was 105. That she too would live to be 105. Anytime the death fear plagued me I would say under my breath, I am not going to die until I am 105. It helped me. It worked for me and so I told him the same thing. He nodded off to sleep with old tears rolling down his face and peaceful smile on his face. Because he thinks I know everything. Because I understand what is going on. Because the 105 worked. Until next time and the next obsession comes.

And so as I sat there alone on my porch, I wept. I wept for the frustration of the whole mess. I wept because I know the things that will go through their heads. I wept for the guilt I am afraid they will carry with them like I do. I wept because no one wants to see their children in pain. I wept because I do not have the option to glaze over what OCD is like. I have no illusions on how devastating this illness is. I know on an intimate level how OCD mentally abuses you. I wept for the hard road they are both going to have to go down. I wept for the injustice of it. I wept for the stigma they will face. I wept for the judgments others will throw at them. I wept because I am sad. I wept because I am angry. I wept because I felt emotionally eviscerated. I wept because I feel gutted. I raged in my head and blamed myself. After all, the poison from my family tree ran from my veins to theirs. And even though I know it is not my fault, not really, I can't help but feel like when I was doing everything right I missed something. I have somehow failed them.

They are not doomed to be like me. There are people with OCD that lead perfectly normal lives. There are people that go to school, college, and work. Just because I can not does not mean they will suffer the same fate. They are brilliant, sweet, funny, little boys. They are so much like their father in that way.  There are therapies and help now, unlike when I was younger. I know that they are going to be happy and productive men when they grow up. It will be hard but I know that they can do it and I will be there every step of the way to encourage them. I will be there to pick them up if they fall. I will be there to talk to and understand all of the OCD issues and all that entails. I will be there to hold them when they need it and let them go out into the world when they are ready. I am a mother first, it's my job.

So when people talk about my blogs and they say they wish they had courage to speak up like I do, the are misjudging what I am doing for bravery. I am not brave, I am a mother. I want the world to see my children as the amazing wonderful people they are and not judge them because they have OCD. So I have to stand up. I have to speak, not for me because I can handle the snide remarks and negative comments. I have to stand up for my children. I have to try to change the world's views on mental illness because one day they will stand where I am standing. I want them to be able to hold their heads high and feel good about themselves. I want them to have self worth and positive self esteem. I have to stand up because they deserve better treatment options, better representation, and better understanding from others. I don't just choose to speak up and put myself out there, I have no choice. I am their mother and I only have until I am 105.

Neurotic Nelly