Monday, August 8, 2011

Okay, this is starting to kill me.

First off, I will apologise.  I have had an exceptionally horrible day, after an exceptionally horrible couple of weeks and the only way I can deal - just today - is to have maybe one too many glasses of wine.  This always makes me maudlin, so apologise I will.

However, I am at the end.  It makes me sad looking at my son.  How horrible is that to say?  I love my son to bits and I would never change him, but the last few days all I have wanted to do is break down and cry.

He isn't the same as other kids.  He will never be the same as other kids and at his tender age of 6, I am having to sit down and accept that AGAIN.

Don't get me wrong I have been in this situation before. Lots more.  However, after every time I go through this, his symptoms get better and as a high functioning Autistic child, you forget it.  His quirks are just quirks.  Something that makes him stand out and makes you cherish every part.

And then there are the bad days.  The bad weeks.  He is tired, overstressed and out of routine and every little issue comes to the front.  You can't hide from it, and because you were able to before it just hits you.  He is not the same, he will never be the same and life will always be tricky for him.  How as a mother can I cope with that?

It's a mother's job to make things better.  Fix things; make things happier.  Take away all the problems.  But what happens when you can't?  When before you could even tried you have failed.  When your whole life is making your son's life just good enough to get by.  I am not making his life better, I am just enabling him to cope.

D has been having a lot more interaction with children of his own age during the school break.  I can make excuses for his behaviour and usually his strangeness is dismissed in a "Really?" kind of way.  But not this week.  I cannot make any explanations.  When his oldest acquaintance; his longest known peer; turns around in a parroted "taught by his parent's" fashion and says "D you are just too hyper", as D spins, bent double, as his head is on the floor, ignoring everything and everyone.  It just doesn't cut it.  I see the difference.  As he scrunches; nay destroys the game cards, because he needs the tactile comfort and his friends just politely queries it.  What do I say?

As he sits in the corner and avoids any interaction in a camp today... I know there is nothing I can do.  I can't make him better.  I can't "Fix" him, I can't help him.  I just start to die.

So forgive me for this quiet blubbering into the ether.  I already feel a bit better as I wipe the tears.  I know tomorrow I will feel better and I will slap that smile on my face as I face the day.  I will love all the things I usually love. I will counter all his issues and our day will be full of fun.  But just for these 30 minutes as I have typed this, just forget I have quietly broken my heart and mended it again.  That I have looked the - perhaps false - truth in the face and then ignored it.

Tomorrow will be better.

Just send this post into the unknown as it was designed.  Ignored, forgotten by anyone who reads it as I cleanse the last few days from my soul.

Not really an uplifting post.  Feel free to get some wine and ignore.  I know I want to.




5 comments:

  1. I have nothing to say that would help - except maybe - you are not being ignored.

    May today be a beautiful day!

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  2. Oh Kate. My heart hurts for you. I've seen so many of my friends deal with these same feelings so many times. And I never know what to say, other than you're not alone, and I send love and support over the intertubes.

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  3. Just wanted to let you know that I read this and that I can only imagine the challenges must really have their days like this day. Hugs to you.

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  4. My daughter is extremely ADHD and LD. She also has speech issues that years of therapy have not fully fixed, so many people don't understand her. I have spent my lifetime trying to fix things for her. She is now 12. I think that there is a huge grief associated with having a 'different' child and as a parent you are often mourning and worrying about their future. My daughter is now teaching me that it's okay to be different and we are learning to celebrate her differentness as she becomes increasingly self-aware.

    We had friends over last night who were talking about an ADHD child on their son's soccer team who was difficult. Their comment was that they could never deal with a child like that. I shared with them some of the great experience we've had with my daughter and her ADHD moments.

    Celebrate your son's differences. That's what makes him unique, interesting, and lovable. Like me, you are lucky to have a 'different' child. It's a gift:)

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