When the weeks are like this I feel like I am stuck in quicksand. I wonder if the world around me can see the toll being a mother to children with autism has taken on me. I feel as though my life is some form of algebraic word problem "If Sammy ages as half speed and Mother ages at three times Sammy speed how fast does Mother age?" The answer is too fast.
there is a blog I follow, A Diary of a Mom and it helps me. I don't feel as alone when I read things like this post here and this post too. I have them on quasi-speed dial and re-read them on days like today. Days when I feel like I have climbed backwards into some dark sink hole. I try to keep things light here, I don't ever want anyone to think I feel hopeless or over stressed. I don't want anyone to think I don't love my sons with all I am and all I have. I do. He is forever intertwined into the fibers of my being, wound so tightly around me that you cannot tell where he ends and I begin. Perhaps that is why this is so hard for me? Perhaps I am too close? Can I be too close? In order to reach him I have to be close, constant and unwavering. I can't be near and far at the same time, just ask Grover. He did entire dialog about that on Sesame Street
However...today I just can't. I haven't written in a few days simply because I couldn't muster the energy to put on a happy face and pretend like things are OK. They aren't and I am scared to death because I have no clue what to do. So if you are looking for a happy "i love my life" kind of post here are some suggestions
feel free to wander backwards to untagged posts to all sorts of good stuff
Its been a long few weeks and it isn't getting better. Anxiety brings this poor child to his knees. Sammy is so much like a stick of dynamite with the fuse always lit. The level of anxiety determining the speed in which the fuse burns. It fuels the fire, creates the burn and destroys any progress. I hate it.
Sunday, it all fell apart. We went to church, Sammy ended up restrained in the crying room. He was trying to put his head through the door. I couldn't even get him outside. I couldn't move him, so I sat down with him, held him tight, and let him scream and flail safely. He was clawing at his face and arms, screaming and yelling. Nothing I could do would soothe him. I wrapped him up in my arms. The same arms that held him and rocked him as a baby now hold him hostage. He hates to be restrained but some times that is all I can do. I have to keep him safe.
It's now Wednesday. Today he was carried to the bus stop because he refused to go. His socks upset him and he refused to put on his socks. His behavior at school is getting progressively worse, and the behavior to get him to school is as well. he comes home and explodes like a bomb. The entire week he has been going off like a loose cannon. each time worse than the one before. There is nothing creating the issues that I can change. Unless I can get God to keep it warm all year long. The weather change, the back to school, the teacher he doesn't like, the shorter days, the longer nights, and the dryer air all contribute to my boy and his melt downs. I have no control, I have no clue, and I am tired.
I am so tired. I use to compare this feeling to having spilled soup in your lap. I don't even like soup. I feel burned out and frustrated. I am tired and alone and I don't want to do this anymore. What was supposed to be respite turned into chaos and I am at the end of my rope. I am going to have a battle on my hands with his teacher (more about that another time) and a battle here. Sometimes I just don't want to fight anymore. I just can't breath because the air around me is so heavy. It feels like 100% humidity in an oven or being underwater.
I wonder if people can see it. Even people who don't read this blog have noticed. I miss life before autism. I miss being able to go out as a family and enjoy the whole day. I miss going for car rides without disaster. I miss being able to make one meal with no gluten free options. I miss being able to make and eat whatever the hell I want without worrying if Sammy is going to steal it and eat it. I miss being me, feeling good about myself and having "good mom" moments. I don't feel like a good mom. I feel like I failed. I am having a pity party and I apologize. I just miss the parent I was before it revolved around autism. I miss being carefree, because here, in this house, carefree can never happen again.
Tomorrow, I will wake up. I will smile, put my feet on the floor and do it all over again. Because I love him. Because he deserves it, and because I know if I don't no one else will. He didn't ask for this any more than I did. Nothing changes how much I love him, I just wish I could figure out how to HELP him.