Some days..... are totally shit. Like today. Some days autism wins, totally squashes me and leaves me like a rabbit in the headlights which are glaringly spelling out just how cruel this whole thing is. It's just too big sometimes. Some days I'm small and f**king angry and fed up with nothing being simple, with having to trouble shoot every little trip to the bloody toilet and every single time we need to walk the 50 metres out of our gate to get a pint of sodding milk. I don't want to rush, full speed to our top floor because J is trying to follow the cat out of the window onto the roof. Panic panic panic (all on the inside, you understand: to J I look calm, almost nonchalant, as I lure him back inside and reconnect the "child proof" lock). It's not fair and I want to curl up in a corner and cry and make the autism go away.
So, half term has come and gone. It's actually been lovely. J even got invited to a party - and went - and loved it! And why has it been lovely? Because every blinking single waking minute has come with a visual schedule and a shit load of patience, and making a million bloody paper trains and listening endlessly to talk about video games that I don't care about - just to keep the peace. Oil the wheels. Keep the boys happy. We've got through it but I'm hollowed out with the effort that it's taken. And it was only a week long. And the bruises.... and the fact that my whole body aches from carrying and comforting J when things have inevitably wandered off-schedule... I'm just tired. Tired to the inside of my soul. Numb.
And tomorrow I'll be fine. It's ok - it really is. I CAN do this. It's not a thankless task because I see the difference that every little effort makes to my kids. It's not a perfect life, but it's ours. And I'll bring in a JCB to clear all the crap out of the house - restore order. Me and Claude will get back into our routine of blissfully free, battery-charging walks in the park. Spring is coming - thank F**k. It'll be fine. No fixing required. Normal service will be resumed.
7 comments:
You poor love! Thank God for your blog and Claude it must be just so hard and I'm not surprised you are exhausted. They are both just so brilliant thanks to you. xx
There are those who sleep walk through life not feeling the bumps or rocked by any trauma, they just plod merrily along sweating the small stuff. But then they don't feel the highs, the intense pride in achievements however small, the joy of 'wow that was a great day' - their days are all the same, just a range of mediocrity.
We're the rollarcoaster kind - we get that life is sometimes crap but also sometimes beautiful because we're right at the edge of it. We only pass this way once so why not live life to the extreme - normal is for wimps!
You've got it tough, this is VERY HARD. Your kids are probably happier than you are because you're giving them all your energy - unconditional love at it's best. Keep some energy back for youself because you need it and they need you - a little bit of healthy selfishness helps you all. Keep going girly, you are doing an amazing job. x
P.S. I hate to break it to you but normal service never began!
Mate, that sucks. Well done for ranting - sound off here whenever you need to - we're listening. I hope it helps a bit and the next day is better. x
I'm listening too. And I wish I could rant as eloquently as you.
xxx
Its those differences that we see that makes all the difference.
A piece of elastic can only stretch so far, can't it? I have absolutely NO idea how you do it, hon. But you do. Me? I was never that strong as to manage alone (oh, I discount wonderful husbands here, however great they may be, the lucky b*****d's are obliged to escape to work, week days). Seriously, without an extra pair of hands around to help pick up the slack, I might have headed for the hills and never returned.
You, bonny lass, have earned a free chain-smoking pass to the biggest bucket of wine at Tesco's! At the risk of repeating myself, it DOES get better, hang on in there (ha! like as if you have any other choice anyway, eh?), I promise, you'll see.
Sam's new social worker turned up on the doorstep today - after all these years of chasing for one, I only clean forgot he was due (Shrug)! His eyes never left the knife I continued filleting the fish with - giggle..
Post a Comment