Controlled Chaos (continued)
by Tammy Copechal-Beach
She also doesn't like to be touched; her skin is very sensitive and hurts her. Some of her other symptoms are: laughing at inappropriate times, having a very short temper, and being highly aggressive. She also talks and thinks about sex more than usual for a girl her age. She engages in risky things, has trouble staying focused, and has suicidal thoughts. She suffers from insomnia but doesn't feel drained and has no interest in fun activities. These are just some of the atypical things we have to deal with.
Kalee has a true Jekyll/Hyde personality. The person she is at school or when we are not around is completely different from who she is with us. I think this is partly my fault. I had told her that I didn't care how she acted at home, as long as she was respectful in other people's homes and didn't embarrass me in public. We would always hear, “Your daughter is such an angel; I wish my kids were as well-behaved as her.”
At home, though, we would call her Cyclone Kalee. The minute she walked through the door, she was turning the house upside down. If she wanted something, she wanted it now, and usually, it was the computer. Karee was often on the receiving end of her hostility. Kalee would demand that Karee get off the computer.
“Let me on there,” she would say.
“No,” Karee would reply.
“I said, get the fuck off,” Kalee would tell her.
“No, I was on here first.”
“Get the fuck off now.”
“No.”
As Kalee grabbed Karee by the face, she’d scream, “I'm going to fucking kill you, you stupid cunt, if you don't get off the computer now!”
With tears streaming down her face, Karee would cry, “Fine, whatever. I'm telling Mom!”
“Go ahead, there's nothing she can do about it.”
I would be outside in the garden and would have no idea what had occurred. I usually can be found there; it's my solace and retreat. Karee would come outside, shaking, her cheeks red and streaked with tears. I could see that something had upset her. I would open my arms, and she would launch herself into my lap. There would be a tremor in her voice as she asked, "Why does Kalee hate me so much?"
"She doesn’t hate you, honey. She is just mean and doesn't know how to act,” I would tell her.
"Then why is she always hurting me? Look at what she did."
Karee might have hand prints around her throat and finger marks by her jaw line. As she would explain to me what happened, I could feel my blood start to boil, so I would squeeze Karee a bit tighter to offer her and myself a bit of comfort.
"I don't know why she hurts us. Why don't you help me plant the rest of these flowers?" I’d suggest.
"You're not going to go say something to her?” Karee would ask.
"Not right at this moment. If I do, I might say or do something I'll regret."
"Can I go smash her face in?"
"No, you would be no better than she if you did."
"All right."
"I love you stinky butt, now help me finish in the garden."
"I love you more, Mommy."
"No, I love you the mostest."
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