Wednesday, April 29, 2015

It's not about denial. It's about survival.

"Aren't you angry? Autism keeps stealing our kids!"

Every time I hear or read this I have this image of some one dressed up in a big foam letter "A" costume ringing my doorbell and pulling the old switcheroo with my boy.

"We've secretly replaced Mama Fry's son with Folger's Crystals.  Let's see if she can notice the difference."

Yeah, I can tell he's different and I'm betting if you spend more than a minute with him, you would see it too.  Am I mad about it?  Depends on the day you ask me.  Okay, maybe like the hour you ask me.

I get being angry.  Hell, I've been angry and I'm sure I will be again many times over. All feelings are valid but I also know they are just that, feelings.  Not instructions.  Not set in stone.  Just a moment in time.  I can chose to stay stuck in that feeling or shift it.  It really is up to me because I've noticed a few things.

Anger doesn't get the laundry done.  Despair doesn't get the dinner prepared.  Depression doesn't play with my son.  Sadness doesn't clean my bathroom.

Now I can use that anger for good.  It's great for lighting a fire under my ass when I have crap to fix.  After calling my son's doctor for the third time that day yesterday (and once the day before) to stop blowing off my son's much needed medication refill I harnessed that rage and made it my beotch.  It's amazing when you tell the receptionist who giggles that she forgot again (and yes, isn't that hilarious!?) to call in your son's prescriptions that you will be dropping off your unmedicated child to her home for the weekend how fast her butt will hustle.   In fact she will gladly put you on hold while she gets on the other line to call them in right now!

As you can tell by that exchange, I'm not just walking around all day singing sunshine and lollipops.  I just sprinkle out the rage here and there.  If I did it all the time, it would just become white noise that no one would pay attention to after a while.

Yeah, the future for my son is scary as fuck. I'm not going to sugar coat it.  I can't help prepare him for it by stuck in a moment of fear.  I won't deny I'm not frightened or worried or I'm looking into becoming a vampire because that immortality thing would sure come in handy for being around forever for him.

I'm not in denial. I'm just trying to survive.  Just like you.


  1. Some days it's all about survival! If we make it through to the other side, well, I think we're doing pretty good.

  2. Yes, trying to survive in the best way possible!

  3. Oh my gosh that nurse would have sent me into a rage.

  4. I am living this! You said all the things I am feeling. I am currently waiting for the neurologist to call me back about an emergency appointment that they told me my son needed yesterday. I am giving them an hour before I unleash the crazy. Everyday is survival mode. It is necessary... and exhausting.

  5. I have pockets of time that are actually fun (!), then I always seem to get sucked right back into survival mode. I hear you!