My once beautiful daughter is now nineteen years old, homeless, bearded, in extreme poverty, sterilized, not receiving mental health services, extremely mentally ill, and planning a radial forearm phalloplasty (a surgical procedure that removes part of her arm to construct a fake penis).
My heart is torn to bits.. of you had seen her poc's from my fb memories.. just one year ago, she was coming back after a uear long battle.. sorry for typo's cant see thru tears. I'll regroup because Im not done fighting for my baby.. I just need a rest!
All the kids in the new school already had their cliques, and weren’t open to her, but there was one group that was willing to welcome newcomers, and that was the QSA kids. They were nice, smart kids, who were all a little quirky, and I was grateful that they were welcoming of Liv, but I noticed that they all seem to have created these micro-identities. For example, one girl called herself a demi-boy aromantic. They all seemed preoccupied with identity and presentation. Shortly after becoming friends with them, Liv cut her hair and dyed it pink. I saw this as normal teen exploration at this point. I was uneasy about how preoccupied she and her friends were with these issues.
She had dreams of becoming a professional dancer and she had the talent to do it. Now, she has traded hours of dance training for hours of seclusion...exchanged her pointe shoes for a chest binder, her ballerina bun for a buzz cut.
The powerlessness is the worst part of this nightmare. I work and work and think and think. I have run out of words and ideas and theories and angles. There is nothing left but a paralyzing powerlessness. Nothing left to do or say. Just sit and feel.
All the kids in the new school already had their cliques, and weren’t open to her, but there was one group that was willing to welcome newcomers, and that was the QSA kids. They were nice, smart kids, who were all a little quirky, and I was grateful that they were welcoming of Liv, but I noticed that they all seem to have created these micro-identities. For example, one girl called herself a demi-boy aromantic. They all seemed preoccupied with identity and presentation. Shortly after becoming friends with them, Liv cut her hair and dyed it pink. I saw this as normal teen exploration at this point. I was uneasy about how preoccupied she and her friends were with these issues.
In her new environment filled with support, “unconditional love” and affirmation, Belle’s mental health declined precipitously. Her anxiety and depression exploded. She became heavily dependent on weed. She had her first manic episode and has been admitted to the psych ward several times since, including once where she was brought in by police.
