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Rated: GC · Other · Writing · #2329189
Free writing
Labelling in society is a real problem. You tell anyone anything often enough and it becomes gospel. It becomes truth. All my life I have been labelled. Normally incorrectly but I had no idea until recently. Streamed and assumptions made about me.

The hardest was raising my youngest. I had raised two older daughters by myself but according to everyone I turned to I just wasn't trying hard enough this time. I was too this. I was too that. I was wrong. I was lazy. Crazy. I was a bad mum.

I got a phone call today to tell me she has been officially diagnosed with ADHD. I heard the words and I just started crying. The relief. I wasn't wrong. I was right. I want to scream I fucking told you so to everyone who just told me I needed stricter routines and to be more attentive. Clearer boundaries and harsher punishments. I was standing on a busy street but hearing those words.... the confirmation. Permission to believe. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. Just repeating what they said.

The world stopped spinning for a second. Everything faded but me and the phone call .

I hate that she had to break her leg to be seen. I hate how hard I had to fight to access the trauma psychology team. I hate that no one wanted to go near her when she screamed and lashed out in pain because she refused all pain medication but it was a different standard for me. I had to take all her anger and all their frustrations and try not to feel or process anything. I hate that I was told to calm down and be reasonable, that I had to leave the ward, when all I wanted was an appointment. A conversation. Someone to fucking listen to me. See how hard i was trying to keep this kid alive daily.

Immediately the team could see how much she struggles and that she couldn't engage in the necessary trauma therapy because there was something underlying. She was too hyper and distracted to focus. I don't know how I fought my way here. I just know I kept going. Smashing on doors and not giving up. All those people who judged me then sent me away. Everytime I was asked to leave parenting classes because I knew everything they were teaching and her needs were too complex. But I had to handle it. On my own with no support. Just constant criticism and pressure. Keep fucking going.

The honest truth is no matter what formulation of letters a professional decides on it doesn't matter. No label will change how i see you. You will always be the same magical little girl that gives me heart palpations and migranes. You give the best cuddles and tell the best stories. I adore how your little mind works.

I am so sorry I tried to make you fit in a box. I'm so sorry I tried to control that wild streak in you with no idea what I was doing. I'm really sorry I was not there to keep you safe the night you broke your leg. My whole existence revolves around keeping you and your sisters safe.

You challenged me like no other soul ever has. You pushed me and broke me. But I am a better parent now. Not perfect but more than enough. I see how strong and brave you are and know every hit I have shielded you from is enough. I fought so hard to get here.

It keeps hitting in waves. Relief. Fear. A weird smugness. Grief. All those times I backed down, convinced I was the problem. I listened to people that told me you were just a bad kid for too long. I am so sorry. I only listened because that what everyone said about me. My whole life i have just been told to do more and try harder. I just needed to figure it out. I am so glad you will not be forced to carry the weight of people's assumptions. The stigma of being weird.

This label does not change how i see you. It's just validation that we are okay. I have no hope of ever accessing the correct diagnosis for me. I will be forever labelled traumatised and emotionally unstable. Broken. No one cares why. I come from a different time with no money to change anything. But you, my little star. You will access effective therapy and medication that will change your life. You will have options. You will have choices and chances. You will always have me. I will tear down anyone and anything that tries to get in your way.

God fucking help anyone who tries to tell you to try harder. I will rip apart everyone that tries to tell you you are not enough. Nothing will hold you back. The fight is over. I did it. I almost feel empty. It's grief for all the could have beens. Everything i missed or maybe just refused to see in your sister's and myself. All those times I knew deep inside we needed help.

It's just a label. Not an identity. It will not define you or hold you back. It is just an acknowledgement that your brain works differently. That you have needs that I can demand are accommodated. It's a step to claiming your space.

With this label doors will open. It's a correct label. It was just me with basic education and an internet connection that managed to see so clear how much you struggled. To all those professionals who ignored me, I only hope one day you know what it feels like.

I love you my little wildling. Never stop being you. Do not let the bastards get you down.
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