Dealing with trauma as a family
I was recently diagnosed with posttraumatic stress disorder and anxiety. After many tears, hours of research and hundreds of questions, I now have a better understanding as to why the doctors came to their conclusion.
Subscribe to this feed
I was recently diagnosed with posttraumatic stress disorder and anxiety. After many tears, hours of research and hundreds of questions, I now have a better understanding as to why the doctors came to their conclusion.
Having a gay mother and an absent father, he thought that he was missing something. At a crucial time in his life, and as he prepared for adulthood, he felt that he needed his father’s influence to finally become a man. His request was to go live with his father.
When my son responded, not even the bed could have broken my fall. He said, ‘Would you still love me if I told you that I was gay?’
I encouraged my daughter to share her story and her feelings by going to the teacher or the counselor to express how the actions of her classmates make her feel and her disappointment when nothing is done. What a difference words make.
It wasn’t until I developed a relationship with my children that I realized how much I really loved each one of them for who they were. Five different personalities, five different reflections.
As we sat around the dinner table contemplating what we, as a family, were going to do this holiday season, things got quite loud – as you might suspect they would with six opinions. We had a lot of questions to answer and agree upon as one family unit. Were we going to invite family over to our house? Were we going to any particular family member’s home? Or was it just going to be us this year?
As I prepare to send my little ones back to school, I grab my handy-dandy checklist to make sure they have everything they need to make it through the school year. From school supplies to clothes to backpacks to self-esteem.
After sitting with skeletons in my closet for many years, it was finally time to “clean house” – closet included. I began to address and clear out cobwebs of hurt and anger and in the middle – like an elephant in the room – there sat a large pile.
It had to be addressed: Coming out to my childre
Birthday parties. Cleaning up owies. Going to parent-teacher conferences. The giggles and laugher. The tears and hurt feelings. Fixing the bike and throwing the ball. Oh, the joys and the stresses of parenthood.
Sometimes family bonds need to be forged anew when parents learn that a child is gay. So it was with Trish Pachak, who confronted her daughter about her suspicions 13 years ago.