This evening I read a blog from a parent of a child with a psychological disorder:https://blogs.psychcentral.com/childhood-behavioral/2019/01/the-loneliness-of-raising-a-kid-who-has-a-psychological-disorder/#.XEjYBh6QAvA.facebook. I feel these words in my bones some days, especially the part where they say that people tell them “well he’s always fine when he’s with me.” I literally have video evidence of my child in a full on meltdown of epic and unreasonable proportions. It was the last five minutes of a forty-five minute episode. People usually can only get through the first one or two minutes before I hear a refrain similar to that above, how my child doesn’t act that way when they are with them.
It’s not easy having to explain to your small children that the consequences for repeated violent behavior will be imprisonment. That no, “I got angry and I couldn’t help it,” are not valid, acceptable excuses in society. That I love them and want them to stay with me, please be kind. And then, remembering in the middle of the storm to be kind myself. Because, sometimes I get angry and feel out of control. I lose my shit. I scream until my throat is raw. I say absolutely unacceptable things that I instantly regret. Not only do those words break the most important hearts in the world to me, but they also invalidate any good message I was hoping to send. I spend days upon days in a sleepy, full of promises that never are kept, pain filled, brain fogged, fire putting out scramble and forget to stay calm.
And even though they are extreme, and different, and angry, and so am I and they are me… Even though all of that, and more you will likely never know, even though… They are still the sun and moon. They are the air I breathe and the reason my heart beats. They are my excuse for unwavering tenacity, when so many others in my exact situation might say give up!, that I never could. Even though sometimes I am tired and I want to run away. Even though sometimes my head hurts so bad and I want to quit. Even though, all of that and more, I still would not wish to change them, for they are unique and magical. Even though I get to be the punching bag and the one they are the angriest at, even though they blame me for most things going wrong, I am still the one that gets to see them at their brightest. Seriously, the stars have nothing on these children.
And they are so worth it. Even though, sometimes, that is harder to remember than any parent of a special needs child would like to admit.
The Happy Typist 