29 September 2021

I Know How You Feel

Why is it that people always say, "I know how you feel"? 

Who REALLY knows how someone else feels? I would like to ask, "Have you experienced my entire history? Have we been living in a duality that goes beyond space and time? Have you heard everything that has ever been said to me? Have you seen everything that I have seen?" Of course, the answer would be NO. For those of you quickly running to protect the wishes of the well-meaning, I do understand. It is said to show someone support. It is said so that people do not feel alone. It is said when people want to fix it and don't know how. It is said when one does not know what to say. 

I am not meaning to be rude...but honest; as honest as someone on the spectrum. I am truly thankful for the sentiment and love that have been shown to me by the persons who have said those words to me in the past. You are angels in disguise. But, I wish...just once...someone would ask, "How are you feeling?" or "Do you need to talk?" or "I am here for you" or "Could you explain it to me?" instead of "I know how you feel." That just closes the discussion.

When my father passed away, many people said those words to me. I was incredulous. How could they possibly know how I felt? And, why was the world still turning when everything in my world had come to a crashing halt? Those words were said to me when my half-sister died...3 days after being diagnosed with cancer. I am the one who received the phone call from the hospital informing us of her passing...and yet, I hadn't even been told that she was sick. Those words were said to me when my other sister passed away...across the country...while I was attending a conference for work. 

Those words are said to me so often in reference to my children....2 on the spectrum and one with ADHD. I want to ask, 'How do you know how I feel?...How can you possibly know how I feel?" When was the last time you spent every waking moment of your life either fixing problems or averting problems? 

Every time I think we are making progress, something else hits us from the other side. And with every incident, we experience another death. A death to the person our child should have been if he was not stricken with this...

And it will never go away. They are not going to grow out of it. They are not going to be cured. There is no surprise trip to Disney World for them. There is no established hospital where these human beings and their families generously receive treatments as a family. No, it is seen as a hinderance....a difficulty...a bother...something to gloss over. 

Many years ago, I started writing this blog to have an outlet...screaming to the world that I was drowning. As I wrote, I was able to rediscover the gifts that had been given to me in my sons. The blog shifted to one meant to bring some positivity to the lives of those who also struggled. (I am sorry that this is not one of those positive posts.) Many people, who did not even have children on the spectrum began reading the blog and thanking me for my honesty and insight. And then, one day, someone took exception to what I wrote. Never do I wish to offend...but these were my thoughts...my words...my life! It was never meant to supersede anyone else's life or opinions. She told me, "I don't know why anyone would want to air their dirty laundry to the entire world!" Dirty laundry? My life was dirty laundry? My children would forever be dirty laundry to her? And then she said those words, "I know how you feel."

I did not write for a long time. When I would try to go back to writing, I felt that what I had to say was inconsequential. Maybe it is....but it is mine to say.

Recently, those words were said to me again...this time in reference to my eldest Aspie/Autistic son who was very close to graduating. "I know how you feel." In rebuttal to this person, I would say, "I am very sorry...but no you don't." You have trials in your life, I am sure. You have hard times, you have pain, but you do not know how I feel. When you watch your incredibly talented, gifted, intelligent, big-hearted son knocked down to insignificance....again...and...again...and...again....and this time, after such promise of success. There are no words.

05 May 2018

I'm Tired

It has been incredibly long since I last posted. At that time, our oldest Aspie son is finishing his 3rd year of college....our middle Aspie son is finishing his 3rd year of high school and our youngest son is finishing 5th grade. My husband is working 40 hours a week, yet is on call every other week. He sometimes works as many as 60 hours in the span of a week. I am working 2 "part-time" jobs that I love! Unfortunately, neither of them are truly "part-time" and I end up working between 56-63 hours every week. On top of that, my mother has recently been stricken with an illness that has demanded much of our time over the last 3 months. We are over-whelmed, over-worked, our energy is over-taxed.... I say this not as a cry for sympathy, but so that I may name it for what it is and stop blaming myself for things over which I have no control. I started this blog as a personal journal...a way to deal with the ever-present reality of raising children with Autism. Some found my writings helpful and so I opened it up to share our journey. I have always TRIED to keep my posts as positive as I can....but the truth is that raising special kids is HARD! There are days that we are NOT at our best....days when we are exhausted by a constant presence and pressure that others CAN NOT understand. Lots of people say, "I understand how hard it can be...."-but they don't! They don't know what it is like for your child to barely pass when he had to work 10 times harder just to get that D. They post pictures and accolades of their children who achieved amazing grades...yet never truly had to work for them. They post pictures of their children winning awards that our children would never even conceive possible. Where is my sons award? He worked harder just to finish the race. They post pictures of their vacations to Disney World...or Mexico. We can't go on vacations because any and all extra money we earn HAS TO go to helping our boys....especially since insurance is no longer paying for any therapy for our middle son. (He was making A's with his shadow. Now he can barely pass. It is the difference between his becoming a functioning member of society and becoming a "burden" on society for the rest of his life. All made by the flippant decision of someone who has never dealt with this lifestyle...someone who's only purpose is to make more money for his insurance company. To that official....you have murdered my son...you have murdered the person he could have become if you were not so selfish....if you cared more for the person rather than the dollar signs.)
Sorry.....went off an a tangent there. Anyway...
I hope to start writing again....if for no other reason, than for my own sanity. In truth, I do not know how positive these postings will be for a while. I have a lot of emotions to work through, emotions that have been locked away....in a box...in a drawer.....in a closet...in a basement.....behind a locked door....in an empty house.....waiting for a chance to be dealt with. These posts are not really meant for someone else to read....I am SURE they will not HELP anyone in the least. I just need to shout it out into the universe SOMEHOW and I have no other avenue to express them. I'm tired and I need rest....

26 October 2014

Waffles

You know....as parents...there are some things we just take for granted. Things like
      kids tying their own shoes...
      kids telling you what they need...
      kids being able to cut their own food...

Our middle Aspie child has some very definite deficiencies. He couldn't tie his own shoes until he was in fifth grade.....he still has trouble telling us what he needs....and his table manners have always left something to be desired.

But you know...it is the little things that make all the difference.

Last night, I witnessed him CUTTING A WAFFLE. I don't mean "creatively tearing it apart" or even "chompoing on it"....but systematically cutting the parts of the waffle into managable bite-sized pieces.

Laugh if you must.....but....

...it brought tears of joy to my eyes!

It truly IS the little things that make all the difference.