Maddie Ziegler's Performances in Sia's Music Videos (part one): What does RAD feel like?

This post is also available at my new website Trauma Mama Drama.  If you enjoy reading my blog, remember to update your feeds, emails and bookmarks with the new link, because eventually I will only post updates on the new site's blog.

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My step-kids had their first supervised visit with their mother last summer. Their visit would last three weeks and would be supervised by one of Biological Mother's friends. This was a condition of Husband's divorce settlement. We didn't trust the situation much because we didn't know the friend, but she supervised visits through CPS contracts. She sent us extensive documentation proving that she worked for the state as a supervisor, we verified it, and Husband reluctantly agreed to including her on the "approved supervisor list" filed with the court to avoid going to trial with Biological Mom again. We didn't trust that she would actually supervise Biological Mother the way she was supposed to, but we believed that she would at least keep them safe (and we were absolutely right... She didn't really supervise them at all, but they came back relatively okay).

Against our insistence that she not tell the kids about their visit too far in advance, Biological Mother spilled the beans during one of their phone calls about two weeks before they were scheduled to leave.

Pardon the language, but seriously... What the f@#%!?

Middle and Little hadn't seen Biological Mom in ten months, so they were incredibly excited and happy to go on their trip. They couldn't wait to see their mom. While they said they were a little nervous, they were mostly just thrilled.

Now. If you know anything about RAD, you know all about the following equation:

Excited + Happy+ Nervous + Impatient = EPIC NUCLEAR MELTDOWNS FOR DAYS

Things got nuts as soon as they found out they'd be seeing their mom. They reacted against me, constantly. This was when Little's behavior started turning violent against me and I had to restrain him for the first time. This was when Middle did things every time she looked at me to get a reaction out of me. This was when Middle screamed at me to get away from her during one of her fits, and when I tried to comply by leaving the room she charged me, jumped on me so that I bent over, grabbed hold of my hair and screamed, "DON'T LEAVE ME!!!!"

This was when I really reacting against their reactions. For example,  Little and Middle would NOT stop jumping off the 3.5-foot-tall toy box in their room, usually on top of each other in some sort of dominance game I just don't understand.

"THE BOX"

During this lead-up to their visit, Middle ended up kicking Little pretty hard in the face during one of her jumps. I sat them down and informed them that if they were caught jumping off of the toy box again, I would be taking it to the dumpster and that most of the toys inside would go, too, because we wouldn't have anywhere to store them.

The next day was rough. The kids were all over the place, acting completely bonkers, and I lost my patience around noon. Around 4:00 in the afternoon, I walked past their room and caught Little in mid-free-fall. His intended target? Middle's back. So, I started yelling. And I mean yelling. Essentially screaming. I grabbed the humongous toy box that weighed about 35 lbs and started dragging it out of their room. The kids grabbed onto it and yelled, "No!" and asked to get some of their toys out, but I refused and yanked the box from their hands. When I got to the front door and started hauling it out, Husband grabbed on to the other side.  "Hey," he said, "we don't know what's in there... maybe we should look and--"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IS IN HERE! IT IS TRASH NOW!"

After I got it to the dumpster, Husband wanted to bring back some of the now discarded toys. "NO!" I shouted.  "THEY DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT THE STUPID TOYS!  THEY DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING! THEY NEED TO LEARN TO CARE! MAYBE LOSING EVERYTHING WILL MAKE THEM CARE, BUT I SERIOUSLY DOUBT IT!!!!!"

Husband dropped the subject. I left the house and went on a long, calming drive.

Around midnight that night, I started feeling guilty and decided to bring back in some of the special toys that were in the toy box. I went out to retrieve them, but, unfortunately, someone had spotted what must have seemed like a toy jackpot and took advantage. The toy box, and the toys, were gone.

Middle will never get back the bear the judge gave to her the day she came to live with us. They will never get back the special Snuggy blankets their grandma gave to them. It was a truly nasty thing I did, and I can never undo it. Husband and the kids have forgiven me, but I haven't forgiven myself because one of the theories on attachment disorder states that kids who have endured repeated trauma will destroy/disregard/give away their personal belongings as a way to protect themselves from loss. They've lost things and people they love, and if they act like they don't care about their things or give them away, no one is going to take that item as a way to hurt them.  When they do these inexplicable things to their stuff, they are choosing to lose that item. And I knew that when I threw out their toys. But I was so angry that I didn't care.

Anyway. That's how things were going. When Middle and Little left for their trip, I was actually happy that they were going. My thought process was something like, "I need the break. Sure, it sucks that they are going somewhere that might undo all the progress we've made. It's horrible that they might be exposed to more of the stuff that disrupted their minds in the first place. True. But I don't really care right now."

About an hour after they left, I read an article that claimed the music video for Sia's "Chandelier" to be the best of the year.  So I watched it.

I started crying here...

And had to pause the video here because I could no longer see the screen through my tears...

And I lost it all over again at the end.

The whole time I watched this video, all I could think was,  I've seen this before. The facial expressions, the movements, the intensity... I've seen all of this in Middle. This must be what she feels like all the time.

   

This face seemed eerily familiar to me.

And even though the song is about Sia's battle with alcoholism and the party scene, the song lyrics couldn't be more relevant:

Party girls don't get hurt
Can't feel anything, when will I learn
I push it down, push it down...
I'm gonna' swing from the chandelier
I'm gonna' live like tomorrow doesn't exist, like it doesn't exist
I'm gonna' fly like a bird through the night
Feel my tears as they dry...
But I'm holding on for dear life
Won't look down, won't open my eyes...
Cuz' I'm just holding on for tonight
Help me, I'm holding on for dear life

I spent the next two hours sobbing on the couch, alone in my almost-empty apartment (Oldest was sleeping), angry with myself, regretting immensely the way I handled Middle and Little's behavior the days prior to their departure.  Was I actually relieved when they left here a few hours ago?  How on earth was I okay with them going on this visit?! And me... on what planet is my own behavior with them considered okay?!  They are children... hurt children.  And over the last few weeks I've been treating them like unwelcome guests in my home just because they were trying to hurt me in response to their pain. They are children and I am an adult! How could I do that?

This video restored my empathy immediately. I still watch it frequently when I feel overwhelmed with the immensity of my kids' behaviors and emotions. It helps me remember that they have a mental disorder. They're not doing the crazy stuff on purpose... Well, maybe they are doing it "on purpose," but they are not doing it with a sense of control.

Check out the full video below.  Every time I watch it, I'm reminded that my Middle and Little have so much going on in their little minds. Can you imagine going through life feeling like this? Try to put yourself in the shoes of a child whose brain operates at this frequency all the time as a protective mechanism, as a reaction to the life lessons his early-childhood experiences taught him.  I guarantee you will feel more empathetic, which will help you parent your kids in the way that they need.