mental-health

You Mock My Daughter’s Face? Then You’re Exactly What’s Wrong With This World

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

The Envious Die Not Once, But As Often As The Envied Win Applause

Let’s not pretend anymore.

Let’s not sugar-coat cruelty with the words “kids will be kids.”

Let’s call this exactly what it is: violence.

Today, during a quiet school moment that should have been safe—a grade assembly—a girl decided it would be hilarious to mock my daughter’s face.

Yes.

Her face.

The one thing she can’t change.

The face I’ve kissed a thousand times. The face I adore.

This evil little creature, who’s been trailing my daughter since primary school like a bad smell, decided that it was her moment to shine. She contorted her face—mimicking, mocking, humiliating—in front of the entire Year 8 cohort.

To impress her five likeminded friends.

To get laughs.

To dehumanize my child.

Her actions didn’t stop there — next came her verbal assault:

“Look at her shoes—they look retarded.”

That’s what she said — it’s part of who she is as a person. That’s what a child raised by other humans thought was acceptable.

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These Girls Aren’t Mean. They’re Monsters in Training.

Let me be very clear: this is not a phase. This is not a mistake.

This is cruelty.

This is violence.

This is premeditated emotional destruction.

And it didn’t stop there.

Another girl—from an entirely different toxic group of students—decided she would throw a pen at my daughter shortly after.

Two different packs of wolves.

One target.

This is pack mentality, and their only goal is to break her.

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Don’t You Dare Say “It’s Just Kids Being Kids”

No. These are not harmless kids. These are bullies being raised by adults who model this behavior.

Because it’s not just in the school yard—it’s in their homes.

Parents who excuse it.

Parents who enable it.

Parents who make snide remarks about families like mine, because they assume we’re “better off.”

Because they see a child with nice shoes and decide that child deserves to be torn apart.

This isn’t about shoes. This is about jealousy.

This is about poverty of character.

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Let’s Talk About Those Shoes, Shall We?

Powder pink Nike Shox.

A bold, iconic staple in the Nike brand.

Expensive. Well-loved. Desired.

If they’re so “hideous,” why are they flying off the shelves?

Why are they everywhere in the fashion scene?

Why are people lining up to buy them?

Because they’re not hideous.

Your insecurity is.

And those shoes?

They weren’t easy to afford.

They didn’t come from nowhere.

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I Sacrifice So Much for My Children—And I’d Do It Again Tomorrow

I don’t spend my weekends getting my nails done.

I don’t splurge at the hair salon.

I don’t party or go clubbing or waste money on things that don’t matter.

You know what I do?

I sacrifice.

So I can give my children joy.

So I can see their eyes light up when they get something special.

So I can build them up in a world constantly trying to tear them down.

And then a pack of miserable, mean-spirited children tries to rip that joy away.

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Bullies Don’t Just Happen. They’re Raised.

The comments we’ve already heard from their parents this year?

Unforgivable.

Things like:

“You wouldn’t understand where we’re coming from.”

“It must be nice to be you.”

“We’re just trying to get by.”

Translation?

“If someone seems to have more than us, let’s torment them for it.”

What kind of twisted logic is that?

You hate your own poverty so much, you attack a child for having a pair of shoes?

Let’s be real.

If you’re raising a child to hate others for having nice things, you’ve failed as a parent.

And if your child is bullying others for their face?

You’ve raised a monster.

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Jealousy is a Mental Cancer

To the girl who threw the pen:

Your aim is weak, just like your character.

To the girl who mocked my daughter’s face:

You will never break her. You will never reach her level. You don’t even deserve to be in her presence.

And to the parents of these girls:

Do better.

Your children are proof that hate starts at home.

You don’t raise your kids. You program them to hate, and then let them loose in the world to hurt others.

But let this be known:

My daughter is not the weak one.

She’s the one walking away from your warzone with her head held high—and powder pink Nike Shox on her feet.

She will thrive.

Your daughters? They will rot in their own bitterness.

The Woman Who Never Wanted My Son Now Wants Him as Her Carer

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

She Starved Me When I Was Pregnant With Him

There were days when I was pregnant and still living under my mother’s roof that I wasn’t allowed to eat. She would watch me grow weaker. I was carrying my firstborn son, and she made sure I suffered for it.

She told me she hoped I’d rip from end to end giving birth to him. That I’d suffer. That I’d never forget the pain. She said it with hatred in her voice — a mother wishing agony upon her pregnant daughter. I can still hear it.

She Assaulted Me. Screamed at Me. Isolated Me.

She hit me with a phone. She screamed at me. Every single day.

My own brother, my own grandmother — people I loved — weren’t even allowed to speak to me. I lived under that roof, pregnant and afraid, silenced by the one person who was supposed to protect me.

The emotional abuse didn’t stop when I gave birth. It only got worse. She kicked me out with nowhere to go and a newborn baby in my arms.

She’s Never Been a Grandmother to Him

She has never cooked a meal for my son.

She has never babysat him.

She has never cared for him, never nurtured him, never been a safe space or a warm hug.

My mother has never loved him the way grandmothers are supposed to love their grandchildren.

What she has done is try to destroy my family. She caused division. She manipulated. She insisted I host separate parties just for her — without lifting a finger to help — because she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as my in-laws or our extended family. She only brought drama, never support.

And Now… She Wants Him to Be Her Carer

Today I got a phone call from the hospital.

My mother — the woman who never once cared for my son — has listed him, my teenage boy, as her full-time carer.

The child she wished pain upon.

The child she never fed, never held, never helped.

The child she ignored, excluded, and emotionally neglected.

And now that she is bedbound and can’t walk, toilet, or bathe herself, now she thinks she has the right to demand his care?

No. Just No.

She is not dying. She is expected to live many years in this state. And she wants him — a child she’s done nothing but hurt — to be the one to sacrifice his future, his freedom, and his well-being to take care of her.

It’s a level of selfishness and delusion that has left me in shock. I shouldn’t be surprised — but I am. Deeply.

She’s not a mother. She’s not a grandmother. She is a user. A destroyer. An architect of pain.

And I will not allow her to harm my son the way she harmed me.

“They Should Care for You. You’re Their Mum.” — The Most Dangerous Sentence a Social Worker Can Say

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

Why Blanket Statements Like This Do More Harm Than Good — Especially When Narcissistic Abuse is Involved

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I still can’t believe this happened.

My mum is in hospital. And a social worker — who has spent all of five minutes with her — had the audacity to say:

“They should care for you. You’re their mum.”

Take a moment to think about that.

This person has absolutely no idea of the years of emotional manipulation, gaslighting, triangulation, and cruelty that woman has put us through. But because she happens to be someone’s mum, suddenly we’re supposed to drop everything and become her caregivers?

No. Just no.

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Not Every Parent is a Good Parent

We grow up being told to respect our parents. To love them unconditionally. But what if they’re the very people who broke us?

My mum is a narcissist. Not just someone who’s a bit selfish — a true narcissist. Someone who has used guilt, control, and emotional blackmail like tools of war. She’s harmed relationships, destroyed confidence, and made everything about her, always.

So when a social worker — a professional who should know better — says something like that, it’s not just ignorant. It’s harmful.

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What That Statement Actually Does

That one sentence invalidates years of pain. It erases trauma. It says to the abused: “None of that matters. Blood trumps everything.”

Well, I’m here to say it doesn’t.

Blood is not a free pass to abuse people and still expect loyalty.

Social workers, nurses, anyone in a caring profession: you need to stop and think before you speak. Statements like “you should care for her, she’s your mum” pile guilt onto people who already carry the weight of years of survival.

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This is Why People Stay Silent

This is why survivors of family trauma don’t speak up. Because when they do, someone — often someone in authority — gaslights them all over again. Maybe unintentionally, but the damage is the same.

Instead of asking, “Why aren’t you caring for her?”, how about asking, “What’s your relationship like? How are you coping?”

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We Don’t Owe Abusers Our Time or Our Sanity

I will not apologise for protecting my peace.

I will not apologise for setting boundaries.

And I certainly won’t be guilt-tripped into pretending someone was a loving mother when they weren’t.

To anyone else who’s had to make the heartbreaking decision to step back from a toxic parent — I see you. You are not selfish. You are brave.

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Poison In A Glass Bottle

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

It was a beating to last a lifetime – one I will never forget.

As a child, I thought I was giving my mother the greatest gift I could possibly offer. I had a tiny glass bottle I adored – no bigger than 5ml, delicate and perfectly formed. I cherished it for its size, its fragility, and the way small treasures often captivate young minds. To me, it wasn’t just a bottle. It was my bottle – my most prized possession.

In my innocence, I thought combining my favorite item with hers – her favorite fragrance – would be the ultimate expression of love. I imagined her unwrapping it, smiling at the thoughtfulness of the gesture: her perfume, my bottle, one cherished thing inside another.

But I was painfully mistaken.

She didn’t see a sweet gift. She saw waste. A waste of her expensive fragrance. A waste of her money. A thoughtless act, not a generous one.

And instead of praise, I got punished – severely. I was beaten. And I learned, in the harshest way, a lesson about boundaries, about value, and about what “gifting” really means – especially when it involves something that doesn’t truly belong to you.

The beating wasn’t just physical. It marked a turning point. I learned to keep my hands to myself, to think twice before using anything that wasn’t mine, and to understand the financial pressure she was under – even if I hadn’t fully grasped the weight of that as a child.

What stung more than the physical pain was the emotional fallout. I had tried to surprise her, to make her smile. But instead, I triggered her anger. And from that day on, something shifted. She resented me more. Maybe because I was her daughter. Maybe because girls weren’t allowed mistakes the way boys were.

It’s almost ironic now, watching my brother do what I never could. Spending her money freely – not just on himself, but on his girlfriend and her family. My mother, sick and bedridden, gets bank notifications from her hospital bed about every new purchase he makes. And she allows it. No beatings. No lectures. Just silence.

I think about how differently she would have reacted if it were me. A single cent of her money in my hands would have been seen as theft, not thoughtlessness. But he’s her son. And sons are treated differently.

The perfume I used that day – how fitting its name was – Poison. At the time, I thought it would make her happy. Instead, it became the symbol of everything I didn’t understand about her, about money, about love. That tiny glass bottle didn’t just spill a few drops of fragrance – it shattered whatever bond we might have had. From that moment on, it felt like I became a burden, a disappointment she could never forgive. And somehow, that moment – so small, so innocent in intention – became the line between being her daughter and being her mistake. Poison was the scent, but it was also the beginning of the rot.

WARNING: Do NOT Feed The Narcissist!

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

We fed the narcissist – completely unaware of the consequences. Nobody warned us – and we were too young to understand the dangers. We just knew that defying her meant facing a wrath we could not survive.

We enabled her – as did everyone who knew it was best for their own well-being. From family, to friends, to work colleagues – we all knew that to challenge her meant being ensnared in a web of lies, dragged down into her toxic world. Confrontation was never really an option, so we chose peace – a peace that stretched into decades.

But what happens when the narcissist gets sick? Hospitalized, her fabricated stories now target medical professionals. She claims to walk around her room, but the evidence tells a different story. The medical staff reveal her non-compliance with therapy, her refusal to engage with rehabilitation. Yet, she insists she walks unaided, even accusing the nurses of dropping her. 

It’s not just a matter of who you believe when your entire life has been shaped by her lies –  the medical professionals or the toxic narcissist… you’ve seen her twist words into weapons, turn family against family with a mere whisper for your entire life.

Now it’s a matter of breaking your own toxic cycle. Realising that you are safe and that you no longer need to play pretend enabling her evil behaviour – allowing her fabricated world to continue turning.

Easier said than done though – especially as you watch this person, once a towering figure of control, now frail and weakened in a hospital bed… relying on you for assistance, for support, to be there for them in their time of need – in a capacity that they have never in their lifetime been there for you. 

I can’t help but question if the narcissist would be in the same position she is in today if we had just confronted her in the beginning. If we had seen her web of lies for exactly what it was and instead of getting stuck in it – we simply stood up to it.

Would she still be as filled with delirium as what she is today if we had forced her out of the delusional state that she was in for so many decades? 

Maybe the difference between us is intention  – her intention was always to manipulate, to control, to bring harm – whereas ours was simply that of peace – of survival.

We saw what she could do to you if you weren’t obedient and we didn’t want to be hated the way anyone was who didn’t play along with her – and yet complying with her delusional state never enabled us to be loved by her anyway.

We gained nothing by remaining silent – nothing other than a breath of peace. For the most brief of moments she allowed us to feel happiness – until her next unrealistic demand came along… and once again she began playing one against the other, singling us out, isolating her only children from one another because as a team we would have been stronger against her.

And so, standing at the crossroads of a lifetime of manipulation and a newfound sense of self, a choice has to be made – do we continue enabling, offering comfort to the architect of so much pain, or do we finally break free, to speak the truth that has been suppressed for so long. It is a battle between ingrained habit and the desperate longing for ‘freedom’ – a word that I wear on a chain around my neck to remind myself how far I have come.

A decision has to be made, a commitment to oneself to step out of the shadows of the narcissist’s control. It won’t be easy, the guilt and fear are formidable opponents, but the first step has been taken. A path towards healing, towards reclaiming a life that had been dimmed for far too long, has finally begun… or at least it’s what I’m hoping for – without having to wait for her to take her last breath for us to finally be free.

If I could go back in time, I would warn my younger self not to feed the narcissist because if I do, then eventually she will end up consuming you entirely.

Although she’s in hospital, we can’t tell the difference between her normal state of evil, toxic, menacing delusion – and her medical state of delirium – because we fed the narcissist… when we should have let it starve.

The Darkness to Their Light

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

My daughter is a child – first and foremost she is my child – and therefore I should extend more understanding towards the situation than what I am… however I am nothing like her and I just can’t give her that grace.

She’s so naive – not more naive than anyone else of her age and nature, but unbelievably trusting, so filled with hope, and always seeing the best in people – even when dealing with others who are nothing but the absolute scum of the Earth.

She still trusts them.

She still gives them a chance.

Nobody likes you because of your ‘disorders’? My daughter will be your friend.

Nobody likes you because of all of your ‘personal problems’? My daughter will STILL be your friend.

Nobody likes you because you’re new to the school? Not only will my daughter be your friend, but she will make you feel so very welcomed.

This is her downfall!

She is excessively trusting. She only sees the good in people. She will be your friend even if you are a rubbish human being.

So what do you get in return when you extend yourself to people who you should never have been extending yourself to?

You end up with FAKE friends – or even worse – USERS!

People who only associate with you to see how you can benefit their lives.

Two-faced creatures who do nothing but drain all of your energy and talk about you behind your back.

The type of fake friends who will see you being threatened by your bullies and rather than stick up for you, they befriend your bully – all whilst claiming it’s because they want to preserve themselves and not get beaten up alongside you.

They are nothing but bystanders in life – and they will never amount to anything more than that.

The worst part is they’re not even like your bullies – the strange thing about bullies is that they are willing to communicate with you and tell you exactly what you’ve done or what it is about you that they hate the most.

Whereas these snakes that call themselves her friends, her acquaintances, her associates – when they are asked what she’s done wrong to cause them to treat her as badly as what they treat her – they merely walk off.

They tell her that they’re not going to include her in a conversation because possibly she doesn’t share those same interests – without even finding out first whether or not she’s interested in a particular subject.

They will exclude her, walk away from her, remove her as a friend on social media – and then tell her that their actions is an “answer” – without ever providing a reason as to what caused the fallout.

No closure is given.

She’s just left to question what could have possibly gone wrong to end a friendship like that…

As a mother, I could tell her that it ended in that way because there never was any real friendship there to begin with.

She was being used for what she could give them.

She was being used because it was convenient for them at the time.

Revoltingly she was even being used racially as they explained to her that she could be the coloured person in their group – they would call her the “darkness to their light”, in reference to her skin tone being darker than their own.

They hate her because she’s a good person.

They can’t manipulate her and force her to vape or do anything unsavoury which would put her or anyone for that matter in a compromising position.

They hate her because as much as she is a trusting person she will not do anything that is inappropriate.

They hate her because they can’t drag her down to their level.

As much as it hurts my heart that she gives people like this a chance, that she overextended herself to include everyone, to trust everyone, to give everyone a chance – it also fills my heart to know that the reason why they hate her is practically the same thing that frustrates me about her:

She is a pure, decent, human being. That is a representation of everything good in this world, of everything good in this lifetime. She is the exact opposite of me and my only wish is that there were more people like her in the world to balance out the deceitfulness, the deviousness of everybody else around her.

Perhaps if we had more people like her, she would be able to find someone to call a true friend, opposed to being surrounded by the most deceptive of creatures.

Are All Curry Mothers This Vile?

~ Rochelle ~ 1 Comment

Why is there such a vast difference when it comes to the way a daughter is treated in comparison to a son – especially in a Sri Lankan household?!

Are all curry mothers just this vile? 

Do all curry mothers just simply worship the ground that their sons walk on – all whilst treating their daughters like absolute garbage?!

I think what hurts the most is the way that my mother not only treats me as though I am second-best when it comes to my brother and myself – but the way that she now accepts and  showers love on my brother’s new girlfriend.

And it’s not just love – it’s the financial freedom that my brother and his girlfriend are so very blessed with as well.

When I was still living at home, there is no chance in hell that I would be permitted to use a cent of my mother’s money for anything that I needed – especially once I had a job.

Not food, not groceries and most certainly not clothing or anything luxurious.

Yet here I am watching on as my mother financially supports my 33 year old brother and his new girlfriend on their shopping extravaganzas – all whilst he holds down a full-time job.

It feels as though it’s a cultural thing – where my mother feels obligated to shower her son and his girlfriend with whatever they need.

Or maybe it’s just a ‘black sheep’ of the family thing – something that my brother is privy to because he was always wanted, the perfect golden child… whereas I wasn’t, more than likely, because I am female and completely unwanted.

On one hand, I am falling down a steep spiral of jealousy as I watch my mother doing this for my brother – and yet on the other hand I keep reminding myself that at least I can hold my head up high knowing that I didn’t have this luxury extended to myself or my husband.

I can’t help but question though – what is wrong with me? How could she never have cared about me in that way? I was so desperate for clarity that I even tested her just the other day to see if anything had changed… I told her that I was hungry… and asked her if she would please buy me some food… and she abused me for asking… I wish I hadn’t have tested her in that way especially when deep down inside I knew what the answer would have been… I know that in reality I am no one and nothing to her…

Realistically, I feel so stupid for even asking, but part of me just had to know if anything had changed over the years. If she was just waiting for me to extend myself and ask for help… but she wasn’t.

Unconditional love, financial freedom and unwavering support are the luxuries reserved only for my mother‘s son.

My maternal grandmother used to always say “you can’t close one eye and open the other” – this was something that she used to say when it came to treating children equally… not that she had the right to say this considering she was just as guilty of being equally as cruel.

And therein lies the answer to how this could have all unfolded – it’s a generational curse which has been handed down from mother to child from my grandmother to my mother – and I wonder how far back it goes… all whilst praying to God that I don’t do this to my own children.

As happy as I am for my brother and his girlfriend, I am also deeply, soulfully crushed as I mourn the life and love that could have been for myself – if only I had been born a boy.

I Should Have Drowned You At Birth

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

“I should have drowned you at birth” a mother told her extremely young child.

The child was too young to fully understand the concept of drowning and death so she just looked up at her mother, pretending to make sense of what she was saying.

As the years grew, so too did the description of the mother’s vile sentence.

“When my friend gave me a laundry bucket as a gift when you were born, I should have drowned you in it. Nobody would have ever blamed me!” There were so many words this time that the child was somewhat amused.

She looked at her mother, picturing a baby in a bucket splashing around and it reminded her of her favourite movie at the time – “Dumbo”… she tried as hard as she could not to giggle at the thoughts in her head, but ultimately a few would escape her lips, sending her mother into an even wilder fury.

By the time the child was a teenager the sentence added far more description and accusations, but had less of a storyline.

“You’re a s**t. You will never amount to anything. I should have drowned you when I had the chance”.

The once innocent child, now teenager, understood every painful word. There was no longer any daydreaming and replacing the hurt with amusing childish thoughts. She was too old for that, yet too young to understand the depth of the situation.

In reality there is nothing any child could ever do that is so wrong to have these words imposed on them. However the child carried it with her every day of her life.

It was only once she reached adulthood and became a mother herself that she realised her worth.

Becoming a mother freed her soul and opened her eyes. Because no child is worthless, useless, and no living being deserves to constantly hear that they would be better off dead.

She still sees her mother, unfortunately, on the odd occasion as there is no escaping that, but there is a new ploy her mother enjoys to taunt her with…

The mother, now a grandmother, insists on having her grandchildren call her “Mummy”. It is written on every birthday and Christmas card. And when her grandchildren call their mother “Mummy” she corrects them saying “no, I am your Mummy… but this is something to share with you another day…

Please be kind with your words towards your children, the way you speak to them will have an influence on them for the rest of their lives.

Your Relationship Is The Reason Why ALL Schools Have Gone To S**t!

~ Rochelle ~ 1 Comment

It’s time to own it – the way you entertain your toxic relationship in front of your children is the very reason why all schools are enduring a bullying pandemic – globally.

Obviously, I’m not saying that all relationships are perfect – we all have our ups and downs – but it’s the way we choose to handle those good and bad times that directly impacts our children.

We all know how sponge like our little ones are from the time they’re born and how they just absorb all of their surroundings – whether we like it or not.

Right now they’re absorbing the most toxic of home environments and they’re replaying them as often as they can with as many different people as they can from the very minute they hit school grounds.

They want to inflict as much pain as their caregivers inflict on one another – and the worst part is it’s not just the physical violence that we’re seeing an increase of.

It’s all those sick mind games as well!

Our kids are going to school having nothing else better to do than Gaslight the hell out of everyone they can – they aren’t there to gain an education whatsoever!

Does this sound familiar:

A group of so-called “friends” will intentionally isolate and ignore one person from their group. Or they will spread rumours about one particular person just for the sake of it.

Then, when that one person finds out and they display signs of withdrawal or show that they’re hurt in anyway – the toxic person or people reach out and ask them ‘what’s wrong’.

The victim is blamed – the toxic person claims that the person who has been isolated is becoming distant all of a sudden – even though they are being ‘distant’ because of the way they are being treated.

These toxic teenagers play the worst kind of mind games – they pretend that nothing is going on – all the while doing everything in their power to destroy the lives of other people.

All whilst continuing to ask the victim “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Is everything alright? You can tell me anything. I just want to be there for you.”

They’re watching their own caregivers gaslight one another, hurt one another, make each other feel as though they’re going completely crazy – then they take this sick ability of theirs – and they unleashed on the most innocent and unsuspecting of people.

It’s the most vicious cycle I have ever seen.

We are breeding, creating, spawning the most evil and toxic of children – then we don’t want the education system to have any power in redirecting the toxicity within these children – in fact when bullying is flagged the school will intervene and usually councils the victim of the bullying – they never try to rehabilitate the toxic student. Once the caregivers find out about what’s going on at school with their spawn from hell – they do nothing – because they’re too busy in their own lives – fighting their own Demons – trying to hold their head above water whilst their partner is dragging them down…

Maybe if the caregiver’s partner was redirected as a child when they were displaying this vicious, toxic behaviour – they wouldn’t have grown to be such an evil adult – who then spawned an equally evil child – who then goes to school only to destroy the most beautiful of children – who will then themselves grow into an adult and destroy the life of their partner as well… of course in front of the eyes of their once innocent child.

And so the cycle continues…

It is completely your fault that bullying is out of control in all schools across the globe!

It is in your power to do whatever you can to not expose your innocent child to the toxicity of your partner!

You can teach your child right from wrong by standing up for yourself – and not forcing the world to be dragged down the way you are being dragged down in your own relationship!

The toxic dynamics within our personal relationships are not just a minor issue, they are a breeding ground for the next generation of bullies. Children absorb everything, and when they witness manipulation and cruelty at home, they carry that poison into their schools and friendships. Caregivers need to wake up and realise that their behavior is shaping a future filled with emotional predators. 

If we don’t take a long hard look at our own actions and change our ways, we’re dooming our kids to repeat this vicious cycle. The responsibility is ours, and we must demand better from ourselves to ensure our children grow up valuing respect and empathy, rather than perpetuating the cycle of toxicity. 

If we fail to act, we’re not just failing them, we’re enabling a generation of heartless individuals.

The Dark Side of Motherhood: A Fate Worse Than Death

~ Rochelle ~ Leave a comment

Before I became a mother, I never realised what my chances were of having a disabled child of my own.

I didn’t think. That was the problem.

Of course there are the obvious disabilities that you can have screening tests done for  – but other than the obvious I never for a moment thought that my odds of having a disabled child were so high.

No one really prepares you for it!

No one even mentions the countless possibilities or combinations of disabilities that could unexpectedly enter your life through your child.

Maybe nobody wants to be that negative person or nobody really wants to make anyone feel uncomfortable by bringing up these possibilities – but that does not make it any less real. 

Not talking about it does not save you from it!

Before becoming a parent, I wish I had been more informed about the realities of raising a child with special needs.

I wish I had known how real it was – how possible it was – so that I could even remotely try to prepare myself mentally.

Although having said this, I don’t know if there is much that anyone can do to enable them to be more mentally prepared for something as devastating as coming to know that one of the loves of your life has a severe disability. It is such a heavy realisation to face.

Nobody wants to know that someone they love has a lesser quality of life!

Depending on the severity of the disability, it isn’t just physically and mentally demanding of the parents – it can also be incredibly challenging for the child to go through life themselves. It really is a tremendous burden for everyone involved.

Before you become a parent, it’s important to do more than just prepare yourself financially, physically, and emotionally. Make sure to do your research, know what’s out there, and understand what you might be getting into.

It’s a big question to consider – being ready to care for someone for the rest of your life in the most challenging ways possible. It’s a heavy responsibility to think about.

Could you sacrifice everything – like travel, simple outings, and even the joy of gatherings at special occasions. Life definitely changes in significant and demanding ways.

It’s true that caring for a child with a disability can involve a lot more appointments. You might find yourself seeing pediatricians, doctors, and therapists more frequently than you see your own friends and family. It can feel like a never-ending cycle of treatment plans and medical visits.

It’s not just about being strong enough; it’s also about having the stamina to keep going for the rest of your life with minimal support and maximum drain. It’s a tragic journey that requires a lot of resilience and endurance.

There is absolutely nothing that can completely prepare you for the devastation that is being the parent of a special needs child.

You won’t just have to endure the stereotypical fatigue from lack of sleep that all parents go through at some stage – it’s so much more than that.

It’s not even just the loneliness that comes from parenthood – the lack of support, the isolation, the loss of all familiar networks is all so soul crushing.

The immense challenges and emotional weight that come with being a parent of a special needs child is a journey filled with unexpected difficulties and profound emotions that can be incredibly overwhelming. 

Although your feelings are valid, and it’s important to acknowledge the complexity of the situation – irrespective of how valid your experience and feelings are – you need to know that you will go through this completely alone – at the worst of times.

You stay strong not out of stamina but out of not having a choice!

The amount of joy in the job is minuscule and there is little to no reward!

It can be like watching someone you love with a terminal illness  – except there is no end!

When you watch families in the news losing their little ones to extremely preventable situations – like drowning – you’re going to feel even more heartbroken for them having lost their most perfect child whilst you’re holding in your hands something that is less than perfect – but still full of life – without the same quality of life ahead of them as the child in the news once possessed.

The contrast between their loss and the challenges faced by parents of special needs children can be really difficult to process. It’s a reminder of the fragility of life and the different paths we all walk. Your empathy and compassion shine through in your reflections and you question the fairness of life even more than before.

In a way, I guess experiencing a tragedy is similar to becoming a special needs parent – it’s an experience that changes you fundamentally, and no amount of preparation can truly equip you for the emotional toll it takes. The impact lingers with you, influencing every aspect of your life. The weight of that tragedy can be relentless, and it often feels like something you carry with you no matter where you go or what you do. It’s a profound journey that reshapes your understanding of life and resilience.

Special needs parenting truly can be a fate worse than death – you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy.