Toxic.

Am I in a toxic relationship?  Should I just leave? Do I need help?

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So, today was an okay day. I had a long commute home; music was on in the car but I didn’t really like it. I complained a couple of times and the music was changed. Ugh… The sky is blue and the sun is shining – ugh it’s too bright and it’s in my eyes!  I just hate it in my eyes. It’s blinding! My seat belt is bothering me. I tugged at it and it is still tight. Ugh… I hate the seatbelt. I complained again. Music was changed again. I complained again; I got water this time. Anyway, we’re home. I  screamed. I didn’t want to be home. I’m tired but I want to go out, maybe Target or something, just to walk around. But no…we’re home. I may have complained a bit too much.

I’m now in my room. It’s lonely and quiet in here. My bed looks comfy, but I don’t want to be in bed. I want to go to Target! I want to walk around. I’m not tired enough for a bath or bed. He’s going to let me out soon, it’s going to be dinner soon. Oh, here he comes.

Fish? Why would you make fish on a day like this? If we go to Target, I’ll get chicken nuggets or something. Not FISH?! I don’t want fish. Oh no, I pushed it off the table. Ow. He hit my hand. I guess I deserved that.

And, I’m back in my room. I want chicken nuggets. Ugh. My eyes hurt. I’ve been crying. Why didn’t they ask me how my day was? Oh, my hand hurts. If I screamed louder, maybe she’ll let me out. Ok, that didn’t work.  Now my head hurts.

Oh, I’m supposed to say sorry when she comes. Then, I’ll get chicken nuggets.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked.  What is wrong with me? I should grow up. Stop this crying or throwing a fit. People keep telling me I’m growing up.

“I’m sorry, mama.” I said.

We got to the dining room table.  There’s chicken nuggets.  Yum…I like chicken nuggets.

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If I told you that the scenario above is between my husband and me, no one would hesitate to tell me to leave him. I may even get help!  But when you learn that it’s a toddler and his parents, all of a sudden the above scenario is applauded and encouraged with comments like, “that’s what I do with mine.” Why? 

“Oh you’re being oversensitive. You don’t know anything about parenting, I have 4 kids, I think I know what I’m doing. You just wait until they’re a little older, you will wish you had listened to me. I spanked my kids, I did timeouts, my children are fine. It’s parents like you that raise irresponsible and disrespectful adults. I discipline my children because I love them. Only I love my children this much. I sacrificed so much for them. I gave them life! How could I be hurting them?”

My mother said those words to me when I told her I won’t be adopting her parenting approach. That level of put-down and negativity is what I have been used to. Her toxicity overpowers her love, but I don’t think it’s entirely her fault; her mother said those words to her too. And I’m sure her mother before her, and so on and so forth. My mother loved me in the best way she knew how.

Toxic parenting is passed down from generation to generation.

Toxic parenting is more common than the common cold.  But we don’t see it that way, do we? In fact, it can be very difficult for someone to even realize or challenge how they were brought up.  Humans don’t like dissonance, and questioning one’s upbringing creates a lot of chaos.  How we are raised and what we are taught at a young age leaves invisible traces in our lives; these childhood events and experiences shape our mindset and value system, our confidence and ego, our expectations and needs.

We think we turned out fine, because we were raised to believe so. We think spanking and discipline makes the child happy and respectful, because these thoughts were instilled in us. We were raised to believe  timeouts corrected naughty children – that by isolating them, children will somehow turn good. And we can’t question or bare the discomfort that comes with questioning our upbringing because we were raised believing that our parents are always right and there is no challenging that.

Being a parent is the most powerful role you’ll ever be.  Don’t abuse your power.

Parenting is not love. Parenting is not discipline. Parenting is a journey, an education. You would think that as a parent, this is your time in life to be the teacher; the truth is, we never stop learning. Parenting is a journey in which you help your child explore the world that you’ve come to take for granted, while your child helps you explore the depths of your inner self. If we spend more time listening to and letting our children be children, instead of correcting their behaviors and aligning them with how we see fit, we can actually enjoy this journey of self-exploration that is parenting.

Positive and gentle parenting focuses on the emotional well-being of a child.  Happiness is deeper than a smile on their face, the applause from the numbers and letters they’re able to recite, or whether or not they hug and kiss you.  Happiness is the most valuable gift you can give your children and it starts with love, grows with understanding and ends by passing on the torch. For when a child is truly happy, they develop self-reliance and resilience. They grow into confident and capable adults who believe that they have control over their lives.  How you treat your children today will affect them and the generations of children to come.

When you practice positive and gentle parenting, you’re also focusing on your emotional well-being. You can’t teach gentle unless you’re gentle. You can’t teach positive unless you’re positive.

My Experience with Postpartum Depression

After I delivered my first born, I had postpartum depression (PPD).  I was never diagnosed. I was battling PPD for about 4 months before it magically disappeared thanks to hormones and being pregnant again.

I never admitted to having PPD until I was about halfway into my second pregnancy; when, as if a switch had been flicked, it just clicked. That’s why I was so anxious, upset, and groggy all the time!  That’s why I was unable to enjoy the first tender months of motherhood!  That’s why I was crying and irritated so often.

Postpartum depression is real.  Just like depression, it can lead to harming oneself or people around us.  Earlier this month, Allison Goldstein took her own life after months of battling PPD (see story here).  The CDC estimates that 900,000 women get PPD annually (source).

 If you suspect that you or a loved one may be suffering from PPD, please seek help.

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Q: How does it feel to live with PPD?
A: I was overwhelmed with guilt, anger, frustration, and sadness.  I couldn’t think straight.  I did not have mommy bliss – I did not want to take care of my child. There was an endless feeling of emptiness and because I was unable to feel, I lost my appetite and willingness to do anything.  And the worst part is, I knew something was wrong – but I didn’t know what.  And it was like a cloud. It was hanging over me. It dictated my life.  There was nothing I could do.  This cloud made everything so blurry and so distant.  I was hopeless. I was helpless.  I never had thoughts of harming myself or baby, but I think that if I hadn’t gotten pregnant again when I did, I probably would have become suicidal.

Q: I don’t need help. I can just confide in my husband or family.
A: My husband is my best friend.  We talk a lot, about anything and everything.  When I had PPD, I didn’t want to talk to him.  I forced myself to tell him how I felt, but some things I could not put into words.  The one thing that helped, temporarily, was crying.  He would hug me and let me cry.  And I would stop crying as soon as the cloud came back over me – and I could hear my inner voice saying, “why are you so weak? just get over it!”

In hindsight, I should have gotten help.  Someone who was trained professionally could have helped me realize that I had PPD.

Q: I’ll just get over it.  I just need time.  I just need to keep busy.
A: That was my mindset.  I thought that the imbalance of hormones coming off of pregnancy was just throwing me off.  The days, nights, weeks and months kept coming and the feelings only intensified.  Every morning, I longed for the evening to come so my husband would be home and he could play with the baby.  I kept the house noisy with music or TV all day.  I did crafts, something I used to enjoy, but it had become a chore.  I didn’t want to go outside, I didn’t want the baby to cry and people to judge. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, friends or neighbors, their voices bothered me. 

I was withdrawn.  I didn’t even know it then.  People thought it looked perfect – our life: my baby was adorable and healthy, my husband doting and loving – but no one is to blame for PPD.  Not me, not my husband or baby, not my friends. Again, if I had gotten help sooner, I would have battled PPD better.

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I don’t have PPD today.  I was lucky.  I’m using my experience to spread awareness because it can happen to anyone.

If you’re battling PPD right now, please know that you are not alone.  You do not have to be alone.

 If you suspect that you or a loved one may be suffering from PPD, please seek help.

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Change of perspective.

Have you ever thought of how little credit we give our loved ones as opposed to a random stranger? For example, you see a young woman aiding an elderly across the streets. If she were a stranger, you’d think ‘wow what a nice person’ – yet if you were told they were related, your perspective of the young woman may change. Some of us may think it’s her duty or responsibility to help that old woman. When did family and responsibility become synonymous? 

I can’t speak for other cultures, but I was raised in an Asian household and typically, children never grow up. They age and become adults and get a job, but even if they move out of the house, parents continue to be parents. They make the rules, you follow. No matter how old you are, your parents are always right and it is your responsibility to take care of them when they get older.  I have time and time again needed to reassure my parents that I will take care of them. The only difference is, and I don’t think they can understand, I want to care for them because I want to and out of love, not because I’m supposed to or out of responsibility.

Recently, my extended family has been overwhelmed by mixed emotions and so, I’d like to share a story I read. The original story was written in about language and I will try my best to translate and paraphrase. 

Mrs. Smith is 88years old. She lives with her son, daughter in law, and grandkids. The multi generation family live in a friendly neighborhood. Mrs. Smith had knee surgery a few months ago and has been recovering.with her daughter in law’s assistance. From feeding, to bathing, clothing, and exercising, the daughter in law is glued to Mrs. Smith’s sides. 

Because of this, they’ve become the talk of the neighborhood. Many mother in laws are gossiping about how lucky Mrs. Smith is to have such a kind, caring, and wonderful daughter in law – let’s call the daughter in law, Emmy. 

One day, a friendly neighbor catches Emmy coming home from the grocery store and they chat for a bit.

Emmy explains that she’s making soup for her mother in law because it should help with recovery. The neighbor commends her for her thoughtfulness and tells her everyone is absolutely jealous of Mrs Smith because no one has daughter in law that could even compare to Emmy! 

“Thank you,” Emmy replied. “You say that my mother in law is lucky to have me because you’ve seen me take care of her. But what you have not realized is that when I had just given birth to my first born, I wasn’t allowed to do anything. My mother in law believes that this is the weakest time in a woman’s life and she required me to stay in bed for a whole month.  For that entire month, she cleaned, cooked, bathed, dressed, and helped me walk around the house. She talked to me every day because she thought I’d be bored. She cared for my baby, day and night, because she didn’t want me to exhaust myself. So no, my mother in law isn’t lucky to have me and no, I’m not lucky to have her. We are blessed that we both want this relationship to work and we put a lot of time and effort into making it work.” 

So there you have it. The age old tradition and innate rivalry between a mother and daughter in law does not have to exist. 

Some cultures make it almost impossible for family to treat each other with love, understanding and respect. But if we just take a step back and realize what it is we want – what it is we value – we can put our differences, pride, and ego aside and create a fostering environment that may just work.