Chapter 24 - Lizzy’s recovery
Lizzy did not emerge from the closet permanently destroyed.
Children are more complicated than that.
For months, she hated closed doors.
Bathroom door stayed open.
Bedroom door open.
If a closet latch clicked, she looked up.
We removed the exterior latch from my apartment’s hall closet.
Not as symbolic ritual.
Because it was pointless hardware.
At night she sometimes asked:
“You won’t lock me?”
“No.”
“Even if I scream?”
“No.”
“Even if I’m bad?”
“You might have consequences. No closets.”
“What consequence?”
“Depends what you do.”
She thought.
“What if I don’t eat peas?”
“You may be tragically deprived of dessert.”
She considered that.
“Okay.”
Normal boundaries.
No fear required.
Therapy continued.
Grief.
Attachment.
Trauma.
Not every behavior became:
Because closet.
Sometimes she was six.
Then seven.
Then eight.
She lied about brushing teeth.
Took candy.
Refused homework.
Children can be traumatized and still ordinary enough to be annoying.
I loved that.
Her weight returned to its previous growth curve within months.
No eating disorder diagnosis.
No chronic dehydration.
No developmental regression.
She became obsessed with swimming.
I spent an absurd amount on lessons.
Trust paid part after proper approval.
Receipts submitted.
May you like
My mother would have laughed at the paperwork.
I came to love it.
