On a recent post about Punkin, I had ended my story with the words "Mission Accomplished", and it seems that once again, I have spoken too soon. That happens a lot actually. I say things like "I think she's telling the truth", and "I think she's learned her lesson this time". I have given her the benefit of the doubt, when there was even the slightest shadow of doubt. I have defended her against accusations that just seemed too far fetched. Unimaginable even.
In the end, I always come out as the fool. I look naive, and gullible. Yes, I am an April Fish, carelessly swimming up and down the river during the Angler's Tournament, just looking for a hook to bite, saying things like "Look at these nice people offering me a free meal".
Now, I know that I'm not stupid. I am smart, even if I do have a little trouble with math. I am an intelligent being, and I carry a certain philosophical wisdom. I know it for myself, and I have been complimented on such by other very wise and intelligent people. Fifteen years ago, my therapist asked my permission to use my insights on her other patients. So, why do I constantly find myself tangled in Punkin's web?
I'm not blind. I know for a fact that my daughter will mess up. Of course she will. She's a human being, and that's what we do. It's how we learn. She's also a teenager, and boy, do teenagers mess up! Some more than others, and her more than most.
Much of her behavior is due to a yet to be officially diagnosed mental health issue. She's been in therapy since the first grade. We've had suggestions of this disorder and that disorder, but no one wants to write it down in an official format. They've called her "Borderline" and "Aspergers", and now "O.D.D." We already know she got OCD, and anxiety, and depression. Sometimes I think she may be Bipolar, like me. We just don't know.
But from now on, I must believe in things I would normally be skeptical of. Perhaps Bigfoot does traipse through my backyard at night. Perhaps there is a prehistoric creature lurking just beneath the surface of my local lake. Perhaps there is a giant rabbit that brings chocolate to my house in the spring. And yes, Punkin did do that!