Leave me Alone, but Not Like That

My dear son, 

Our relationship is pretty excruciating these days. You hate to see me coming. I might nag you to do something that’s not on your agenda of nothingness. You're chillin. I know. 

I can’t do enough for you and yet you say, “All you want is to be left alone.”  

Well, all I want is to leave you alone. I’m ready get my life back, if I even know what that looks like anymore. Maybe I would like to have a career that grants me some kind of validation that I am more than just a good mom. I’m constantly fighting the voices in this world, including the one inside my head that says, “Raising children is not a career. You’re not an independent woman you don’t bring home a paycheck.” 

Most of those voices have no idea how much work and energy is involved in raising special needs children, taking care of a parent with a husband who travels and is buried in work all the time. We live in a state where we have no family. Just maintaining our mental health is a piece of work within itself. I know the voices are wrong, but they're still there and I fight them all-of-the-time. 

I have given you and your brothers 24 years of my life. For as long as you have been alive, I have put you first. 

(By the way, I told your brother and now I’m telling you, don’t think for one minute that whoever you decide to marry, will do half of the things I’ve done for you or your children. Most women will not give up so much to be everything to their kids.) I was crazy to do it! 

I set the standard pretty high, which is why you all still expect so much from me. You and Kendal still think I’m your beck and call girl --at your service 24 hours a day. Well ...I quit that gig a few years ago but apparently, y'all didn't get the memo. 

You want to be left alone, but when I leave you alone, you call and text me and the texts are not pleasant.  A few weeks ago, I’m sitting in a cafe having a glass of wine, writing. The wine was especially delicious probably because it was paired with freedom from doing things for other people. I was alone and in heaven until my blood pressure shot up after the unpleasantries of your messages. 

You have said things like you don’t appreciate me “being selfish” and leaving. What? So I have no right to do anything for myself? 

You are a legal adult. You love to be independent and disappear by yourself to go write, draw and do homework in coffee-houses all over town --to go hang out with your friends. Well, guess what? I’m human. I need to do things for myself too. I need my writing time. I need the occasional night out or a weekend with my girlfriends. I need to travel —to go see my friends and family. Most of them don’t live here. You’re not the only one who gets lonely. I have feelings too. 

I need to maintain my marriage and date my husband. Have you noticed that many marriages don’t last as long as ours has? We have had some strenuous times while raising you boys, but we stayed together. Mostly because we were too busy with one crisis to another, to get a divorce. 

It is time for me to leave you more often. Just because I leave you for a few days or a few hours does not mean that I am abandoning you. Ultimately, I will always be here for you, just not every second of every day.  

I understand you’re going through a lot of transitions right now. You’re adjusting to adulthood and community college. You’re sad. You miss your friends. 

Traditionally, this is where parents and children part ways. The young adult goes away to college, to the military, a gap year in Europe or wherever the hell you can go to escape the bondage of having parents. Most soon to be 19 year-olds are out in the world, bungling their way through life and making mistakes without the careful observation of their parents. 

Unfortunately, that typical scenario is not where we find ourselves. Thanks to the wonderful challenges that autism brings, we are a little behind the curve. You’re not ready to move away from us completely.  There are still some skills of independent life that you need to acquire.

Being the advanced student that you are, unfortunately means that we were not focused as heavily on independent living skills while you were in high school. Sure, we worked on cooking, chores, laundry and basic self-care. But we didn’t so much work on budgeting and time management. Frankly, I don’t think the high school fully prepared you with the executive functioning skills that you would need for college. 

I get it. You don’t want to be told what to do. My mom lives with me. I don’t want her telling me what to do. As much as you don’t want to be told, I don’t want to be the one telling you. I want you to handle your business on your own. I want you to be out in the world making your own decisions. I want you to be able to decide when you need to get up for class and when you should start planning and executing that paper for your English class. 

I want you to plan your meals and when decide when you want to eat out. I want you to manage your money. It would be nice if you had your own money. It would be nice if you had a schedule for your laundry and for the rest of your life. I want NOTHING to do with any of that. Yet, I am consistently pulled into the intricacies of your life when you are not handling everything. Like when you wait until the last minute to work on a paper for school.  When the shit hits the fan, and you're panicking, I become fully enthralled in the fallout as if everything is my fault.  

School is 100% your responsibility, as it always has been. When you go to work, you can't call me to solve your issues there. You will have to find other resources. College is practice for that. You have to collaborate with professors, counselors and other students to come up with solutions.  

We live cooperatively as a family. You still need me in a lot of ways (mostly for money and rides). We have to consider each other when our lives are still intertwined. This in a nutshell is our conflict. It’s big. It’s messy and there are no quick and easy answers. We are stumbling all over each other with our righteous resentment for the roles we find ourselves in. 

What you may not realize is that I’m going through a transition too. I’m in a period of  letting go of the job I’ve been doing for your entire life.  

Taking care of you, being your second voice, your advocate, your cook, your maid and your life manager has been my job. We are transitioning away from that, with you taking on more responsibility for yourself.

The thing is, I know you can do this! You’ve always been an independent, conscientious student. Now we just need to meld that together with some adult-living skills --blending the responsibilities of your daily life with school. For some reason the thought of that seems to be freaking you out. But I know you can do this!  

In order for you to grow into the man that I know you will be, I have to let go of some things that have been a part of me for a very long time. I have to let go of control. I can’t walk in your shoes. I can’t cocoon you from the ugly, adult world. You are half-way in while your other foot is still in the door of the home you share your parents. 

I’m straddling the line between treating you like an adult when in some ways you are still a like a child. You still have needs to be met. You are struggling wanting independence not being quite ready to let go of your childhood.  I have been your lifelong caretaker. 

You have actually said, “I hate this dynamic.” I can totally understand that. I’m not in love with it either. I don’t want to be micromanaging your life any more than you want to be micromanaged. We’re in a transition. We are both learning and we are both letting go. 

This transition stage is a mixed bag of nuts (heavy on the nuts) for both of us.  

We will get through this. I hope that we can try to be compassionate and patient for what each of us is going through. We have to work together to treat each other with dignity and respect. Otherwise, someone is going to get hurt …and it ain’t me! 

When we get it all figured out, you will be an awesome, adult, human being who will conquer the world. The mountain feels insurmountable now, but the only way to climb it is one step at a time. I’m with you. I'm behind you …just from a little more of a distance. 

I would be doing you a disservice if I didn’t push you to leave the safety of this nest. I love you too much to treat you like a baby. I have to treat you like the man that you want to be.  A man who is out contributing to the world —changing things for the better. I can’t wait to see you soar. 

Love, 

Mom 

This is Us
Me always joking around and you so serious.

Senior Year Hell

I've done this before.
I should know what I'm doing by now, right?
How come it doesn't feel like it?
Why does it all feel brand new?

One would think a mother of three, just might have shit figured out by the time her last child reaches his senior year of high school. Nope! Not when autism is involved.  You just never know what will be waiting for you when you turn a corner.

One thing my boys have in common, is they are both exhausting to parent.

Someone who knows my life intimately observed, "It's like you are raising 5 or 6 children."

I was surprised to hear someone else verbalize what I have felt for years. And frankly, I am tired. Burnout.
Spent, like an old dollar bill.

I was so relaxed for a while there when Red moved out. I wrote about feeling like I was ready to ready to retire. I felt like I had already done a lifetime of work. It was like a new era. I could breathe again. I could watch a television show live, not recorded weeks earlier on my DVR. There was less bickering and fighting in the house with the two brothers living in different places. It was sweet, juicy, savory, peace and quiet.

Apparently, God laughed at my retirement plan.

The peace is over.

We are swimming in Senior Year Hell without a life preserver, and no swimming lessons.

Blue has always been the most independent of all of my children. He was the toddler who climbed out of the crib, over the safety fence, down the stairs, up to the top shelf of the pantry, to get his cereal before I woke up. He then climbed back up the stairs and over the fence. He came strolling into my room with the box of Froot Loops, like a boss!

He has kept up with his grades and school work since he was in middle school. By the time he reached high school, he had become his own advocate. I never have to follow up to make sure homework is complete. He is self-motivated. He usually chooses the kind of classes that will be a challenge, where he knows he will have to work hard. He doesn't need constant prodding and reminders. Up until recently, he has just done what needs to be done.

I have always considered him to be my "easy" child, even though some of his teen years were difficult. He diligently asserted the fact that he didn't need parents.  This 17th year, however, has been exceptionally difficult.

The night school let out for the summer last June, also happened to be the night before he was to take the SAT for the second time. He had a major meltdown. It was awfu1! He was more enraged than I think I had ever seen him before. He ended up walking home a couple of miles in the rain, at night, because he just couldn't bare to be in the same car with me a moment longer.


The meltdowns over the rest of the summer would go downhill from there.

Why this sudden change in persona?
Change.
Transition.
He was leaving his carefully built support system at school, the teachers, and mentors who he talked to every day.
He would be stuck at home with us. Yuck! Who wants to be around their idiot parents all day, every day for the summer?  
There would be no daily routine.
He would not be able to see his friends as often.
He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that everything is going to change next summer, after graduation. 
All of the things he was missing this summer, in his mind, he will lose permanently, next year.
How is life going to look?
How is he supposed to be able to figure out how to get there?
Becoming an adult and college student will require a lot of work.
What if he can't do it all?

The unknown is a pretty daunting place.

Senior year is a freaky thing for the average student. For a kid with autism and intense emotions, it can be even more overwhelming.

Well, we made it through the summer on a wing and a prayer. The saving grace was the Job Coach we hired to work with him, one on one. She was a life saver! She gave him back a sense of structure. The two of them worked together fluidly.

He took his first college class on the community college campus, which gave him back a little bit of a "social vibe," as he put it.
He met a new friend of the female persuasion, who seemed to like him a lot. He had a friendship connection with her, which he found comforting.

Then, all of that was over.
His Job Coach moved away to further her education. We vowed to stay in touch, but it was gut-wrenching to say goodbye.
The job that she helped him find ended, with a bang.
 (And by bang, I mean another pretty awesome meltdown.)
Then his summer college class ended.

The day before his senior year was to begin; he had the most epic meltdown yet.

So here we are now, at the beginning of senior year, and nothing is how I anticipated it would look. I don't think he pictured any of this either.

He is having trouble sleeping. His anxiety is higher than it has been since the beginning of freshmen year in high school.  He is managing his classes by a very, thin thread. Miraculously, he is still making good grades, but the amount of energy he has to put out to make them is draining.

Things that came easy to him a year ago are a struggle today.  The intensity of his emotions has taken out a huge hit on his executive functioning and planning.  It's like he's a different person.

He is still in the top 25% of his class, and the top 25% of SAT scores, in the country. This does not mean that his path will be immediately going to a university.

The excellent SAT scores and all of the colleges knocking at our door are a painful reminder that even though he has the ability and the academic resume, that would get him into most any university...he is simply, not fully prepared. We are facing the reality that right now, during college application season, he is not mentally ready to add the task to his plate. 

With his current level of anxiety, he is doing well just to make it to school and last through the entire day. Doing homework, has suddenly become overwhelming for him. When it's time to get started, he starts listing ten million reasons why it will be impossible to get it done. Everything that he used to do, will now, not work. He winds himself up to the point where most of the time, he can't even get started.

And so the dream changes, again. He will most likely start community college next year.  Perhaps all of this is happening now to show us, that a university experience right now, would probably make him unravel completely. There is more growth needed in other areas of his life.

I am having to regroup, and look at parenting him at this stage, in a whole, new light. I thought he would be so much easier than his brother was. He isn't. He is just at a different place than what I expected at this point.

I  have to watch my words and actions meticulously. I tape my mouth shut, to keep from offering advice. I quell my natural instinct to help --to be the fixer of all things.

Instead, I try to listen actively. I  ask questions that help him find his own answers. It is NOT easy for me to change my mom-to-the-rescue mentality. Sometimes, I crack under pressure.

I am working to consciously keep boundaries, and not just for him, but for myself. I work to stay in my lane and not cross over into doing things for him. It's a constant battle I fight with myself.

For example, suddenly he is struggling to get to school on time. So a few days ago, I found myself making breakfast for him ...something that he has done for himself for years. When he sat down to eat, without a thank you, and still had an attitude on the way to school, in the car. Immediately, I felt like an idiot for doing it.

Making things easier for him is not helping him. Making it through the struggle is where he will grow and learn. I have to allow him to do things for himself, even when I see him struggling, even if it kills me. My job is to promote independence, even during a time when he is vulnerable and afraid.

I am a continual work progress. I made the mistake of running to Red's rescue automatically, for so long. He didn't want to let go. He's been out of my house for almost a year, and we are still working on him letting go of his dependence on me.

I know that Blue has it in him to make it through this.
He will become independent.
He will make it through this transition.
He will rise.
He will grow.
And hopefully, so will I.

OMG! It's Summer?

Subconsciously, I was trying not to think about the fact that summer is staring me in the face until the subject came up in therapy.

"Your summer will be very different from years past. Have you thought about how that will look for you and what you want to do?"

Me? Do? Summer? I'm not used to thinking about what I am going to do for the summer. It's usually all about what am I going to do with and for the boys. What activities and camps will I find for them? How much more driving will I have to do in this Texas heat? How will I keep them entertained and from killing each other or being kicked out of all of the city pools like in this blog ~"Down Dog."

Too much togetherness has never been good for our family's mental health. Summers have been the bain of my existence since the kids have been in adolescence. I have come to loathe what used to be one of my favorite seasons. It has become a time when I get more anxious, sad and depressed.

Usually this time of year, I'm visiting my doctor's office in a panic that my anti-anxiety/depressant isn't working anymore. Increase the dose! Please! I don't think I can make it through the summer without someone being seriously injured. 

If you have followed my blog for a while, you may have read some of our summer stories. "Lost My Happy" and "Very Aspergery Day" (which was hilarious, in a painful kind of way) are just a couple of them.

Last summer was definitely no "Bed of Roses." Red's behavior was at an all time high of suckiness. I don't even want to think about all of the details.

This summer will be divergent from the norm for us. For one, Red has moved out of the house, and I am no longer responsible for entertaining him. Can I get a hallelujah? He has arranged for his schedule to be very busy for the summer (key word here -HE arranged). He will be working an average of 25 hours a week or more. Work will be followed by working out at the gym where he is employed.  The group home will be providing his transportation to work so ...YAY ME!

When Red is busy and has a structured schedule, his behavior and anxiety are so much better. It gives his mind less time to wander and worry about all of the "what if's" of life.

Exactly what Blue will be doing is still up in the air. Why? Because he is 17 and no longer allows me to plan his life. I know for sure he will be taking driving lessons, and he will work on his required parent taught"driving hours" to get his license. Only, I won't be the parent teaching him. We will have to hire a "parent" because we would end up killing each other. He and his father are like fire and gasoline these days. He will also be taking a class through our local community college.

He says he wants to get a job, although he has yet to look for one. And who am I to try to prod him along? I would like very much for him to do some traveling ...without me. However, I have to get him to agree and figure out if and when he will be working before I can plan anything with or for him. So yeah. Good times. 

As for me, my plan is to take a bit of a break from the blog. I will check in every once in a while with a quick update. However, I want to use the majority of my creative energy on some other projects

Many of my readers have been asking me to write a book based on this blog. I would like to focus on that.  I've been writing this blog for seven years, so figuring out how to dissect it and give a hindsight perspective will be a major project.  If you know of any editors or publishers who may be interested in helping me get my stories into a book, please feel free to contact me. (wesleyweave@gmail.com)  Seriously! Please! Help!!! I am called to do this, but overwhelmed by the idea at the same time.

In the meantime, I hope to open up the blog to some of my readers, fellow autism parents and adults or even teens on the spectrum to share their stories.  If you have a story you would like to share or know someone who does; please contact me. I will be glad to help you polish it.

The Pacific Ocean in Kona, Hawaii

For the first time in 20 years, I plan to focus on self-care this summer. I will be exercising, traveling, writing and trying to be creative. I hope to put my feet in as many bodies of water as I possibly can. I will also be working on a few home improvement projects. My home has been severely neglected for the past few years.

My husband and I already have an exciting trip planned. Of course, I only have a general idea of what I will do with my mother and Blue while we're gone.  I find that I still get an extra dose of anxiety planning any get-away because there are usually so many details to work out. I'm trying to get over it, which is, of course, easier said than done.

This freedom is a strange, untethered feeling. It's kind of like I'm blowing in the wind, but I will try to make the best of it.

I will be in touch. I'm a Facebook addict, so there will always be updates there.

Love and blessings,

~Karen 

That WTF Moment

You know how you leave an I.E.P. (individual education plan) meeting and then digest everything that was said, then you're like ...WTF?

I had 2 meetings in the same day. Both were successful.  In fact, I  was extremely proud of Red!  He ran his meeting like a champ! At Last Year's Meeting  Red sat down and said, his number one goal was to become popular! That’s it! I was flabbergasted. While Blue ran his meeting like a total boss! This year was like night and day for Red.  

Red's Powerpoint Presentation
Prepared 100% on his own

If you're wondering why I still have 2 meetings, even though Red is finished with his high school credits.  It's because he is in the Adult Transition program through the school district.  The program is helping him grow personally in to adulthood  -preparing him for independent living and transitioning into college.  

Blue has some concerns about the STARR test for Language Arts, which is the latest Texas version of standardized testing. This is the only class where he has an 82 average.  All other classes are 90’s and above. He just does not get all of the figurative language, and the author's intent, especially in fictional writing and poetry.  He also probably could give less than a damn about the author's intent. Kind of like I felt about algebra when I was in high school.  

Blue posed the question to the committee, “What if I don't pass it?” 

The answer given was he would be given several opportunities to retake it.  In the end, if he didn't pass it, the I.E.P. Committee could decide to wave the testing and change his graduation plan to minimum plan.  Which would mean, he would have to go to Community College before he goes to a university.  

Since I know he will pass, I didn’t take issue with the answer.  But after the fact, I thought about this and I'm like ...really? WTF? So a kid who is taking AP math and Science and getting A's would be reduced to minimum plan because he doesn't get figurative language and can't pass some stupid, subjective, standardized Language Arts test? Um. Hell no! 

He will pass.  They just try to scare the shit out of them and make the test seem harder than it is, so they will end up passing.  This within itself, pisses me off.  But what about those students who can't pass it? This is ridiculous!  The state of Texas Department of Education needs to hear from this big mouth mama, and from you too if you have a kid with an I.E.P. 

If it came down to them changing his graduation plan, there would be a law suit. Idiots!