January 18, 2013
“Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.” ― Debra Ginsberg
This could never be more applicable than it is right now. With every victory, my heart swells. With each regression, I feel like I've been stabbed. I've been wondering if I'm not just a tad too codependent when it comes to my children's happiness. How far is too far? When are you supposed to start letting your child's obvious pain(be it emotional, physical, psychological, etc.) take a backburner to your own need for happiness? Should I be more distant with my emotions? I know they say that you're not supposed to let someone else's happiness control your own, but does that still ring true when it's your kids? I mean, it's my JOB to make them healthy, though not always happy, people. I don't let my attitude go straight down the toilet at the first sign of a temper tantrum, but they do take their toll. When you listen to your child whine, scream, and cry for at least 60% of the day and you don't know WHY they're crying, it's bound to take it's toll. Right? Or am I supposed to disconnect? Maybe that's why our disciplining techniques aren't working. Because I am too emotionally attached to the discipline. Honestly, after a certain point, every mom will just grumble a warning or bark an order instead of getting up out of the seat when she JUST SAT DOWN for the first time in hours instead of making them do whatever it is that they're supposed to be doing(or not doing).
Today, autism means exhaustion. Not the kind that can be fixed by 8 hours of sleep and a steaming cup of coffee first thing when you get up. Oh, no! That'd be much too easy. This kind of exhaustion is like being neck deep in sand. You could climb out if only you had something to hold on to. Some tiny sliver of hope to grasp. And you try to kick your way out, but everything is bogging you down and it just makes it worse because you didn't have the energy to fight in the first place. You feel it in your bones. My heart hurts for Ali because I am his mom. I am supposed to fix his boo-boos and assure him that everything will be fine. And he is supposed to take comfort in that fact. What the hell do I do now, when the problem isn't something that will just go away with a kiss and a band-aid?!
Ali's neuro-psychiatrist said he is clinically depressed. She's been noticing the patterns, and brought my attention to the fact that this has all been coming to a head since he started school. Okaaaaay, so what do I do now? We are going to start therapy at the hospital again(his doc said perhaps he doesn't have a good relationship with his OT at school, which would explain the immediate need for a meltdown every time it's time to go.) But what if that doesn't help? We are also starting Parent Child Interaction Therapy. I honestly couldn't explain this very well if I tried, but I would venture to say that it will act as a mediator for Ali and me to build a stronger more stable relationship.
If you would've told me 6 months ago that Ali would be punching his teachers in the face on a daily basis, I would've called you a liar. If you would've said that he would become clinically depressed, I would've laughed in your face. His joy was always my most favorite quality about him. He used to be an extremely happy kid with rare moments of frustration/anger. Now he is a frustrated, angry kid with brief moments of happiness. Did we jump the gun by putting him in school? Did we overestimate his capabilities? Or do we not ask enough of him at home to where it is next to impossible for the school to get him to do things that he doesn't want to do? Where is my damn life manual?
No comments:
Post a Comment