Hyper Child Quotes

You'll lose." "What makes you so sure?" "You have no discipline. All you do is tear down shit down. My father is a bastard, but at least he builds things. You turn cities into smoking ruins and blunder about like some hyper child, smashing anything you see. And then you sit here and wonder, 'Why did all of my children turn out to be violet idiots? It's a mystery of nature,'.

It is growing up different. It is extreme hypersensitivity. It is a bottomless pit of feeling you're failing, but three days later, you feel you can do anything, only to end the week where you began. It is not learning from your mistakes. It is distrusting people because you have been hurt enough. It is moments of knowing your pain is self inflicted, followed by blaming the world. It is wanting to listen, but you just can’t anymore because your life has been to full of people that have judged you. It is fighting to be right; so for once in your life someone will respect and hear you for a change. It is a tiring life of endless games with people, in order to seek stimulus. It is a hyper focus, so intense about what bothers you, that you can’t pay attention to anything else, for very long. It is a never-ending routine of forgetting things. It is a boredom and lack of contentment that keeps you running into the arms of anyone that has enough patience to stick around. It wears you out. It wears everyone out. It makes you question God’s plan. You misinterpret everything, and you allow your creative mind to fill the gaps with the same old chains that bind you. It narrows your vision of who you let into your life. It is speaking and acting without thinking. It is disconnecting from the ones you love because your mind has taken you back to what you can’t let go of. It is risk taking, thrill seeking and moodiness that never ends. You hang your hope on “signs” and abandon reason for remedy. It is devotion to the gifts and talents you have been given, that provide temporary relief. It is the latching onto the acceptance of others---like a scared child abandoned on a sidewalk. It is a drive that has no end, and without “focus” it takes you nowhere. It is the deepest anger when someone you love hurts you, and the greatest love when they don't. It is beauty when it has purpose. It is agony when it doesn’t. It is called Attention Deficit Disorder.

there is still a kind of unique loneliness to child rearing for women. We so often do it in isolation. Add to the fact that in our competitive, perfectionist culture, in which the price woman are required to pay for freedom still seems to be martyrdom, almost everyone lies about motherhood. Part of that lying is loyalty - I can't let on that my kid is the only one on the playground who can't read or play the piano - and part of it is self-protection, since we've made hyper-motherhood a measure of female success. The preferred answer to the question "How are you?" is always "Fine," and the answer to the question "How are the kids?" is supposed to be "Great!" That's true even if the accurate answers would be "terrible" and "a mess." I think it produces its own kind of desperation, especially for women, who yearn to be emotionally open.

Consuming a literary diet built exclusively on the classics does not provide students with the opportunity to investigate their own personal tastes in reading material and narrows their perspective of reading to the school task of hyper-analyzing literature. There needs to be a balance between the need to teach students about literature and the need to facilitate their growth as life readers.

Avoid being a historian. Leave bad behavior to history and don’t keep bringing it up. If your child makes an error, constantly reminding her of it will only lead to resentment and increase the likelihood of bad behavior.

Doesn’t your heart just burst with a holy desire to bring Him joy and to walk worthy of your high calling as a child of the Father, seated with Jesus in heavenly places? With Paul, I desire to say at the end of my life, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:7). And I can’t wait to hear Him say on that day, “Well done, my good and faithful servant. . . . Let’s celebrate together!” (Matt. 25:21, NLT). I am driven and carried and captured by love. Are you?

and only much later, when Mascha wanted a child, did I realize that love is a deadly poison, a vice, a vice that one wants to see shared, & that if one of the two involved is smitten, the other is often no more than a passive participant, or vixxtim, or possessed. And Moravagine was possessed. Love is masochistic. These cries & complaints, these sweet alarms. this anguished state of lovers, this suspense, this latent pain that is just below the surface, almost unexpressed, these thousand & one anxieties over the loved one's absence, this feeling of time rushing by, this touchiness, these fits of temper, these long daydreams, this childish fickleness of behavior, this moral torture where vanity & self-esteem, or perhaps honor, upbringing & modesty are at stake, these highs & lows in the nervous tone, these leaps of imagination, this fetishism, this cruel precision of senses, whipping & probing, the collapse, the prostration, the abdication, the self-abasement, the perpetual loss & recovery of one's personality, these stammered words & phrases, these pet-names, this intimacy, these hesitations in physical contact, these epileptic tremors, these successive & even more frequent relapses, this more & more turbulent & stormy passion with its ravages progressing to the point of complete inhibition & annihilation of the soul, the debility of the senses, the exhaustion of the marrow, the erasure of the brain & even the desiccation of the heart, this yearning for ruin, for destruction, for mutilation, this need of effusiveness, of adoration, of mysticism, this insatiability which expresses itself in hyper-irritability of the of mucus membranes, in errant taste, in vasomotor or peripheral disorders, & which conjures up jealousy & vengeance, crimes, prevarications & treacheries, this idolatry, this incurable melancholy, this apathy, this profound moral misery, this definitive & harrowing doubt, this despair--are not all these stigmata the very symptoms of love in which we can first diagnose, then trace with a sure hand, the clinical curve of masochism?

Hyper-aroused youth can look hyperactive or inattentive because what they are attending to is the teacher’s tone of voice or the other children’s body language, not the content of their lessons. The aggression and impulsivity that the fight or flight response provokes can also appear as defiance or opposition, when in fact it is the remnants of a response to some prior traumatic situation that the child has somehow been prompted to recall. The “freezing” response that the body makes when stressed—sudden immobility, like a deer caught in the headlights—is also often misinterpreted as defiant refusal by teachers because, when it occurs, the child literally cannot respond to commands. While not all ADD, hyperactivity and oppositional-defiant disorder are trauma-related, it is likely that the symptoms that lead to these diagnoses are trauma-related more often than anyone has begun to suspect.

One thing that has surprised Julie about going through the process of watching herself die is how vivid her world has become. Everything that she used to take for granted produces a sense of revelation, as if she were a child again. Tastes- the sweetness of a strawberry, it’s juice dripping onto her chin; a buttery pastry melting in her mouth. Smells - flowers on a front lawn, a colleague‘s perfume, seaweed washed up on the shore, Matt’s sweaty body in bed at night. Sounds – the strings on a cello, the screech of a car, her nephew’s laughter. Experiences - dancing at a birthday party, people-watching at Starbucks, buying a cute dress, opening the mail. All of this, no matter how mundane, delights her to no end. She’s become hyper-present. When people delude themselves into believing they have all the time in the world, she noticed, they get lazy. She hadn’t expected to experience this pleasure in her grief, to find it invigorating, in a way. But even as she’s dying, she’s realized, life goes on - even as the cancer invades her body, she still checks Twitter. At first she thought, why would I waste even ten minutes of the time I have left checking Twitter? And then she thought, why wouldn’t I? I like Twitter! She also tries not to dwell on what she’s losing. “I can breathe fine now, “Julie says, “but it’ll get harder, and I’ll grieve for that. Until then, I breathe.

All the bad things that have happened to me in my life have simply increased my resolve to overcome the obstacles that are thrown in my path. And I’ve done that with reasonable success so far. But those voices were still there. And as I got older, they began to emanate from other people, too. The message was the same. “You’re so anxious and worried! You should try antidepressants!” “John, you need to relax. Sit down and have a drink!” “You know, smoking pot calms you down. You should try it. You might not be so hyper all the time.” I don’t know why, but I never gave in to the voices. Many times, quitting would have been easier than going on, but I never did. And I never turned to antidepressants or liquor or pot or anything else. I just worked harder. I always figured I’d be better off solving a problem as opposed to taking medication to forget I had a problem. I am sure antidepressants, drugs, and liquor have their place. But so far, that place is in others, not me. When I heard the voices as a child, I would say to myself, I think I can! I think I can! I think I can! As an adult, my vocabulary and my world have expanded. Now I think I can is reinforced by I did it before. But the negative voices are smoother and more sophisticated, too. Now, when I hear those voices, I tell myself: All the other guitars worked; this one will, too. The other jobs came out fine; this one will, too. I am sure I can walk up this mountain. I think I can drive across that river. And so far, with some notable exceptions, I have.

When we stop to weigh the meaning of these words, then note the connection in which they are found, the intelligent child of God is driven to say, "I must pray, pray, pray. I must put all my energy and all my heart into prayer. Whatever else I do, I must pray.

Decide on the specific behavior you would like to change. If you focus on specifics rather than abstracts, you’ll manage better. For example, don’t tell your child to be neat; explain that you want her to pick up her blocks before she goes out to play.

Praise your child’s behavior. Don’t praise your child, but rather praise what she is doing. For example, instead of saying, “You’re a good girl for sitting quietly,” say, “It’s good you’re sitting quietly.” Focus your praise or disapproval on your child’s behavior, because that is what you’re interested in managing.

Spanking and Shouting Are Counterproductive The principles outlined in this book represent what we as parents should do when we’re confronted with our children’s misbehavior. What we often do, however, is shout at or spank our children, especially if we’re tired or distracted or frustrated by their failure to obey us. Shouting and spanking are quite natural responses to misbehavior—especially continued misbehavior—but they’re also quite counterproductive. They never teach appropriate behavior, which is the number one task of parenting. In fact, they teach just the opposite: • How to shout • How to hit • How to be sneaky • How to fear • How to be ashamed • How to take anger out on others All degrees of shouting and spanking—light, moderate, occasional, rarely, always—give children the wrong kind of attention. If it’s the only kind they’re given, they may misbehave just to get noticed. Also, parents don’t always know if spanking works because they don’t actually observe its effect on a child’s behavior over time. Spanking as punishment simply drives bad behavior underground: It stops the behavior from happening in front of parents, but it doesn’t stop it altogether. In fact, children become experts at not getting caught. Parents may even say, “Don’t let me catch you doing that again!

Donovan looked at Powell, who looked at Donovan. Donovan said, “I’ve got my license, sir, but at last reading it didn’t say anything about hyper-engines or warp-navigation. Just the usual child’s play in three dimensions.

yourself as a dearly loved child of God, you won’t. You’ll gladly receive His grace that frees you from the dominion of sin (see Rom. 6:14). Paul White writes:   There is a difference between chasing grace for what it gives and chasing it for Who grace is … It is Jesus, not a message, that makes us who we are.[55]

One thing that has surprised Julie about going through the process of watching herself die is how vivid her world has become. Everything that she used to take for granted produces a sense of revelation, as if she were a child again. Tastes - the sweetness of a strawberry, its juice dripping onto her chin; a buttery pastry melting in her mouth, Smells - flowers on a front lawn, a colleague's perfume, seaweed washed up on the shore, Matt's sweaty body in bed at night. Sounds - the strings on a cello, the screech of a car, her nephew's laughter. Experiences - dancing at a birthday party, people-watching at Starbucks, buying a cute dress, opening the mail. All of this, no matter how mundane, delights her to no end. She's become hyper-present. When people delude themselves into believing they have all the time in the world, she's noticed, they get lazy. p310

When a parent finds it difficult to connect with their autistic child and receives no, low or unexpected feedback, they may modify their style of interacting with the child and become more directive[ci][cii][ciii] or hyper-stimulating[civ]. In such a scenario, the parent’s vocal pitch may rise and their prosody alter, their facial expression may become exaggerated, they may enter further and more frequently into their child’s personal space and may become more physical, energetic and vocal in their interactions with the child. For an autistic infant experiencing sensory trauma, such modifications in parental interaction style, inspired by the parent’s desire to connect, may paradoxically make it even more difficult, if not impossible, for the infant to connect with their parent.

The part of his brain that serves intentional behavior is precisely the part that shuts down when he becomes hyper

Becoming a mother or father is so much more than giving birth to a child. It’s a developmental process that continues for the rest of a parent’s life.

I’m sorry you chose to do that...,” you’re showing your child that you care about his feelings and have empathy for his being in the “hot seat.

Sometimes people can't identify their feelings because they were talked out of them as a children. The child says, "I'm angry," and the parent says, "Really? Over such a tiny thing? You're so sensitive!" Or the kid says, "I'm sad," and the parent says, "Don't be sad. Hey, look, a balloon!" Or the child says, "I'm scared," and the parent says, "There's nothing to be worried about. Don't be such a baby." But nobody can keep profound feelings sealed up forever. (...) With two chaotic parents who argued with abandon and liberal strings of expletives, sometimes so loudly that the neighbors complained - she had been forced to act as a grownup prematurely, like an underage driver navigating her life without a license. She rarely got to see her parents acting like adults, like her friends' parents. She'd had to parent herself, and her younger brother too. Children, however, don't like having to be hyper-competent. So it's not surprising that she wants me to be the mother for her now. I can be the normal parent who safely and lovingly drives the car, and she can have the experience of being taken care of in a way she never has before. But in order to cast me in the competent role, she believes she has to cast herself as the helpless one, letting me see only her problems. Patients often do this as a way to ensure that hte therapist won't forget about their pain if they mention something positive. Good things happen in her life too, but I only rarely hear about them; if I do, it's either in passing or months after they occurred.