"A cat scratched me today."
"Where were you?"
"I was at the college campus. I asked the owner could I hold him. He had sharp nails and he scratched me."
Hmm...maybe I should get Harry's nails sharpened.
"You know, Harry only makes that sound when you pick him up. He is saying, leave me alone. He looks at me with those eyes saying, Mommy help me. You are the only one he runs from. When you enter the room, he leaves the room."
"Harry is full of it."
"Oh! So now it's the dog who is lying about you. Dogs don't lie. Most dogs make a yelping sound, they bark or they bite when they're unhappy. Unfortunately, Harry doesn't bite."
I stop for a moment to think.
"I think I will start to bite you for him. Since he is too nice to do it. I am not nice."
This was a conversation I had with Red last week. It's just full of all kinds of reality, symbolism, truth and more truth.
Red can't seem to see himself as a part of the equation. Everything is someone else's fault. He can't get along with us because we make him mad. If I hold a mirror up to him so that he can see his own behavior, his own reflection, he deflects the view.
The boy will blame the dog, a door, a piece of trash ...whatever. It doesn't matter. As long as he is not a part of the problem. It's everyone, anyone or anything else in the world. It's definitely NOT him!
"You people make me mad! You should change!"
I've been pushed beyond my limits and my limits are vast. I sat in my car on Friday night after a conversation over dinner with my husband. Heaviness laying across my heart like a wet blanket. I couldn't move. I couldn't drive. I wanted to cry, but I just had nothing left.
My husband feels like the boy is pulling our family apart. He is driving a wedge between us, because after dealing with him, most days, I simply have nothing left over for myself or our marriage. I have nothing. No patience, no loving heart. Nothing. I'm just existing. Living from day to day, getting the bare minimum details done, but not really living. I'm not conscious daily of how small I've allowed my world to become. I'm not as social as I used to be, because I'm empty. I don't even want to hear myself complaining about my life anymore. I know my friends are tired of hearing it, not that I see many of my local friends often.
So I mask the pain with jokes and hilarity. I smile because I am happy for the moment when and if I get away, but I dread going back home, wondering what kind of explosion I will face. Which fight will I have to referee? Who's need to I have to fill?
Confession...
My only way of recharging, is sleeping, enjoying occasional silence when the boys are out of the house, writing whenever I can focus long enough, engaging with my peeps on Facebook and drinking. I don't even enjoy food or desserts as much as I used to. Honestly, drinking is that one small thing that I look forward to at the end of the day. It's like the one thing that I can control.
I can't always go out with friends or even with my husband. I can't always disappear from the house to go out and do yoga or exercise. I can't pull out my paint and canvas to just create in peace. I can't always even focus on writing. As a matter of fact, when Red is at home, I can hardly focus on anything. I lose all train of thought. Once he's home at 3 o'clock, I can only manage to do things like laundry, cooking or cleaning. That I can do kind of on auto pilot. Then shortly after that here comes Blue and then the fireworks.
Fortunately, or unfortunately I'm not sure which, God has created this small little bladder which doesn't hold much liquid. Otherwise, I'd probably be a drunk. I can only have 1 drink, 2 max or I'm up and down all night peeing. I've even considered how cool it would be to smoke a joint and just be oblivious. Like ...hey cool man. Whatever. You 2 dudes want to fight? Go right ahead. I'll just be over hear chillin and then I'll get the munchies and just pass out. I've seen it in the movies. It looks really pretty cool. No of course, I've never experienced it in real life. Wink, wink.
In the real world, I am a responsible adult. I don't drink myself to death, or smoke a doobie. I take care of the details every.single. freaking. day. And I'm seriously exhausted.
My support group moms got on my case the other night because I disclosed that I'm not in therapy. I'm too busy trying to make sure everyone else gets therapy, gets to their medical appointments, gets their hair done, their haircuts, manicures and pedicures. Ensuring that everyone has their groceries and medication. I could go on all day with this list.
After Friday night's feeling like I was ready to drive off a cliff, I decided that something has got to change for sure and with a swiftness. Number one, hubby and I spent the night away from home last night. We reconnected like we hadn't in a very long time. I felt like a grown up. I sent Red to spend some time with his Pastor and friend and when he came home I told him not to call me. I would not be answering my phone. Blue went to spend the night with a friend. I told him not to call me unless he was dying. I left my mom at home with her wine and the dog.
This night away was just a bandaid on a gaping wound. The next step is finding myself a therapist ...stat! Beyond that it is inevitable that I have to find a place for Red to live. I may not be able to focus on working on the book everyday. I just don't have the capacity right now. I've got to work on fixing my life. It looks like Iyanla ain't gonna do it.
If I had just Blue, I could do this. He has Aspergers. He has anxiety, but he would be more manageable without his brother in the mix every single day. Red is just that ...Red. He's like handling a piece of dynamite. He is a spark that lights all of the fires. I am the firewoman and my extinguisher is out of that white stuff ...you know that puts the fires out.
Disclaimer...
If you come here to read my blogs in the near future, don't expect perfection, fluff or polished work (not that you ever got that). Just know that right now, I really don't care. I'm writing for my sanity, not for blog popularity. If you find something helpful along the way, that makes me happy beyond belief.You in my blog community have been my life line, my therapy, my reason for smiling many a day.
At this point, I realize I need a little more. I need some professional help. As my friend Meredith said the other day, "I'm only strong ...until I'm not anymore."
I'm not anymore. So hold me up in prayer, positive energy and whatever else you got.
"Where were you?"
"I was at the college campus. I asked the owner could I hold him. He had sharp nails and he scratched me."
Hmm...maybe I should get Harry's nails sharpened.
"You know, Harry only makes that sound when you pick him up. He is saying, leave me alone. He looks at me with those eyes saying, Mommy help me. You are the only one he runs from. When you enter the room, he leaves the room."
"Harry is full of it."
"Oh! So now it's the dog who is lying about you. Dogs don't lie. Most dogs make a yelping sound, they bark or they bite when they're unhappy. Unfortunately, Harry doesn't bite."
I stop for a moment to think.
"I think I will start to bite you for him. Since he is too nice to do it. I am not nice."
 |
| My sweet Harry |
This was a conversation I had with Red last week. It's just full of all kinds of reality, symbolism, truth and more truth.
Red can't seem to see himself as a part of the equation. Everything is someone else's fault. He can't get along with us because we make him mad. If I hold a mirror up to him so that he can see his own behavior, his own reflection, he deflects the view.
The boy will blame the dog, a door, a piece of trash ...whatever. It doesn't matter. As long as he is not a part of the problem. It's everyone, anyone or anything else in the world. It's definitely NOT him!
"You people make me mad! You should change!"
I've been pushed beyond my limits and my limits are vast. I sat in my car on Friday night after a conversation over dinner with my husband. Heaviness laying across my heart like a wet blanket. I couldn't move. I couldn't drive. I wanted to cry, but I just had nothing left.
My husband feels like the boy is pulling our family apart. He is driving a wedge between us, because after dealing with him, most days, I simply have nothing left over for myself or our marriage. I have nothing. No patience, no loving heart. Nothing. I'm just existing. Living from day to day, getting the bare minimum details done, but not really living. I'm not conscious daily of how small I've allowed my world to become. I'm not as social as I used to be, because I'm empty. I don't even want to hear myself complaining about my life anymore. I know my friends are tired of hearing it, not that I see many of my local friends often.
So I mask the pain with jokes and hilarity. I smile because I am happy for the moment when and if I get away, but I dread going back home, wondering what kind of explosion I will face. Which fight will I have to referee? Who's need to I have to fill?
Confession...
My only way of recharging, is sleeping, enjoying occasional silence when the boys are out of the house, writing whenever I can focus long enough, engaging with my peeps on Facebook and drinking. I don't even enjoy food or desserts as much as I used to. Honestly, drinking is that one small thing that I look forward to at the end of the day. It's like the one thing that I can control.
I can't always go out with friends or even with my husband. I can't always disappear from the house to go out and do yoga or exercise. I can't pull out my paint and canvas to just create in peace. I can't always even focus on writing. As a matter of fact, when Red is at home, I can hardly focus on anything. I lose all train of thought. Once he's home at 3 o'clock, I can only manage to do things like laundry, cooking or cleaning. That I can do kind of on auto pilot. Then shortly after that here comes Blue and then the fireworks.
Fortunately, or unfortunately I'm not sure which, God has created this small little bladder which doesn't hold much liquid. Otherwise, I'd probably be a drunk. I can only have 1 drink, 2 max or I'm up and down all night peeing. I've even considered how cool it would be to smoke a joint and just be oblivious. Like ...hey cool man. Whatever. You 2 dudes want to fight? Go right ahead. I'll just be over hear chillin and then I'll get the munchies and just pass out. I've seen it in the movies. It looks really pretty cool. No of course, I've never experienced it in real life. Wink, wink.
In the real world, I am a responsible adult. I don't drink myself to death, or smoke a doobie. I take care of the details every.single. freaking. day. And I'm seriously exhausted.
My support group moms got on my case the other night because I disclosed that I'm not in therapy. I'm too busy trying to make sure everyone else gets therapy, gets to their medical appointments, gets their hair done, their haircuts, manicures and pedicures. Ensuring that everyone has their groceries and medication. I could go on all day with this list.
After Friday night's feeling like I was ready to drive off a cliff, I decided that something has got to change for sure and with a swiftness. Number one, hubby and I spent the night away from home last night. We reconnected like we hadn't in a very long time. I felt like a grown up. I sent Red to spend some time with his Pastor and friend and when he came home I told him not to call me. I would not be answering my phone. Blue went to spend the night with a friend. I told him not to call me unless he was dying. I left my mom at home with her wine and the dog.
This night away was just a bandaid on a gaping wound. The next step is finding myself a therapist ...stat! Beyond that it is inevitable that I have to find a place for Red to live. I may not be able to focus on working on the book everyday. I just don't have the capacity right now. I've got to work on fixing my life. It looks like Iyanla ain't gonna do it.
If I had just Blue, I could do this. He has Aspergers. He has anxiety, but he would be more manageable without his brother in the mix every single day. Red is just that ...Red. He's like handling a piece of dynamite. He is a spark that lights all of the fires. I am the firewoman and my extinguisher is out of that white stuff ...you know that puts the fires out.
Disclaimer...
If you come here to read my blogs in the near future, don't expect perfection, fluff or polished work (not that you ever got that). Just know that right now, I really don't care. I'm writing for my sanity, not for blog popularity. If you find something helpful along the way, that makes me happy beyond belief.You in my blog community have been my life line, my therapy, my reason for smiling many a day.
At this point, I realize I need a little more. I need some professional help. As my friend Meredith said the other day, "I'm only strong ...until I'm not anymore."
I'm not anymore. So hold me up in prayer, positive energy and whatever else you got.
Logging you in...
Adelaide Dupont · 285 weeks ago
And for those of us who knew and appreciated these points in high school to a greater or lesser extent - always good to have a refresher and feel them through the current and future generations who we survived to be able to see.
I especially appreciated points 5, 7 and 10.
And young women not settling or settling down yet is a good thing.
"It's never too late to live our dreams" - but it may be too early for some of them!
And 8 of course.
nicole · 243 weeks ago
Risa · 230 weeks ago
LAH · 221 weeks ago
Maira L. Coral · 216 weeks ago
I was looking for information for my Multi-Genre Disability Research Project from my Early Childhood Special Education class on the web, when suddenly I came across your blog. I started reading this out of curiosity and I want to tell you that as you said yourself, you will not be Amanda Gorman, but you managed to make me shed some tears, perhaps because I felt totally identified with your words, especially in the part that you speak of your son. My son also has Asperger's syndrome, he is 19 years old and he is in the second semester of College. Also like yours, he takes classes from home, likewise my eldest daughter is also taking college classes from her room. At the same time, that I work as a preschool teacher from my kitchen through a computer, my husband sleeps in the room during the day because he works at night. Also in the afternoons I myself take virtual school classes. I am a 51-year-old Latin woman who began to learn the English language as adult, so maybe you find some deficiencies in my writing, however, I was very moved by how proud you express yourself about your son. Referent your mother, I liked the humorous tone that you give when your talk about her, so I did not want to miss this opportunity and stopped my assignments for a moment to let you know that your words do make a difference, since they reach the heart of at least those who have opportunity to read you. I want confess you that is the most long I have written to someone I don't know, because your words inspired me, thank you...
Gavin Bollard · 209 weeks ago
Thanks for this post. I've been very distracted of late and so this was how I found out about our friend Kate. Kate's struggles were very real but they were so constant and so wide-ranging that it was difficult for people around her to address them. I think it's going to take a while longer for me to process all this.
I learned so much from Kate because she was always quick to point out the many injustices in the world. In her glory days, she was very much a crusader and she cared for everyone. Over the years, as her situation took its toll, I came to realise that it was the fact that she couldn't be put in a single specific category, that made the system fail her. She needed help that they weren't set up to provide.
She needed more care and she needed to be less alone. I'm so sorry that this has happened.
For a long while we were corresponding almost every day but a couple of months ago, I realised that she had become so stressed that nearly every interaction I had with her was starting to trigger her. I backed away to give her a bit more space. She only had a little time that she could stand to be online and there were too many things that she wanted to do in that time. I thought that by taking a step back, she could reach out to more people who might be geographically closer and able to assist.
Kate was a beautiful soul and she will be sorely missed by all of us.
diyalabs6192603 11p · 192 weeks ago
Robots for kids
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Spoil your cat · 122 weeks ago
Many of these living arrangement aren't good, and many of the people who run those places really don't have the residents' best interest at heart. Those places are like old age homes and foster homes, where you sometimes hear horror stories. They're hard to trust. But then there are good ones, of course.
The best thing for an autistic adult is either to go on living at home or working and renting an apartment and living independently, but that isn't always an option.
Duncan · 112 weeks ago