With such a child, it's a tricky tightrope between attachment and detachment. Empathy with one in crisis takes its toll. Doubly so, when one is receiving the blame for the crisis itself (I am the reason her boyfriend broke up with her; I am the reason she was called awful names at school.) This is the voice of her attachment disorder, RAD (etymology buffs will recognize the brilliance of this abbreviation). So, rather than a hug in her distress, soothing words and blandishments of love, she wants things (armor for the battle at school): "if I loved her we'd go shopping now." This feels like soulless manipulation. I can't do it.
|Compulsive Shopping Disorder is a bona-fide illness in DSM-V.|
I visited the community radio station where my opinions and insights are respected, saw my dear colleagues, and got a small, very do-able assignment.
I went to my yoga studio, where I haven't been for 2 months. I took with me the yoga block that B. had stabbed with a carving knife:
Today, I will sew.
I am working on a quilt by Iowa quilter Pat Speth from her book Nickel Quilts. The design, called Paducah Nine-Patch, is featured on the cover photo of the book.
I had to adapt the pattern a little (here's the original size block, a bit "wee" for my project timeline, those smallest patches finish at 1 inch):
Here's how far I've gotten (the smallest patches finish at 1 1/4 inches. It makes a difference!):
I am also FMQ-ing the Shy DNA quilt for a "FOB" (Friend of B.'s), who had a birthday recently (FOBs are in short supply these days).
As I read this once before posting, I feel my chest constricting. May the rhythm of the needle and the floating foot restore some ease to life.