reassurance....

Sometimes living life to the fullest just isn't enough. I've written several blog posts about how I've finally found my place in this world and I've tried to offer inspiration to anyone listening but sometimes it just isn't enough. Don't get me wrong, I'm not regretting my decisions or the choices I've made to pull some people closer and to push others farther away. I'm not questioning my life but I still feel like I need to spend a whole week doing nothing but crying. There is just enough uncertainty in my life right now to make me feel helpless and I'd rather experience any other feeling than that one.


I have two sons...night and day different sons. One has been diagnosed with Phonological Awareness Issues (a form of severe dyslexia), had to get glasses, scratched his eye TWICE and broken his finger in the past six months. As tiring as nonstop doctors appointments have been, his issues are concrete and logically fixable. His problems can either be solved by me or I can get him to someone who will. It's my other son who has me at the end of my rope. Physically, he seems to be in pretty good shape even though he has disfigured feet and will eventually need bone grafts and reconstructive surgery. It seems daunting but right now it's basically under control and his pain is manageable so I'm doing okay with this problem too. It's his psychological issues that are wearing me down. Having been adopted as a toddler, it's expected that he would suffer from separation anxiety and he does...but not nearly as severely as many adopted children. He also seems to suffer from a form of OCD..but not as badly as most. He definitely has some sensory issues but no where near the level his cousin had it and she was on the low end of the spectrum. He has many of the symptoms of children with Asperger's but again, not enough to be diagnosed with it. He is extremely sensitive, but not overly so. He's a great communicator but has limited social skills so often uses his words in an inappropriate time and manner. He is completely unaware of his own personal space and disinterested in anyone else's..... even so...I count my blessings... I realize the possible severity of all these issues and am grateful that he doesn't have a full-blown case of any of them but I also realize that there isn't a doctor on this planet who's interested in helping a kid with a slight case of anything. To the outside observer, he's a little bit quirky...he  has a smidgen of this and a pinch of that. Throw in a slight case of X and an issue with Y and he becomes a child who could...and possibly will...fall thru the cracks. He's the typical kid who doesn't have anything big enough or bad enough to attract the interest of the medical or psychological communities. He's the kid who could just "get by"...just slide thru and never really get any help. Yes I'm going to do everything in my power to find help and fix his issues. Of course I'll do whatever it takes to keep him from falling thru the cracks. I'm a fixer and I'm his mom. I don't for one minute regret my decision to be a single mom...to be his mom. I'm just tired and feeling very helpless and vulnerable. I'm living the consequences of my choices to be a single mom so I've got no one to take the pressure off of me. I can't express my feelings at the end of the day after I've encountered the same quirky issues over and over and over with my son. I'm tired and helpless and I guess feeling a little bit sorry for myself. And then to add fuel to my fire....


my dad is sick. My dad doesn't get sick. I only remember one time in my whole childhood when he was sick and actually missed work. He just didn't get sick...but now he is. He's sick and the doctors aren't fixing him. He's the only man in my sons lives....he's the only man in my life. He's a big, strong man but now he's weak. He's in bed 90% of the day...he can't drive and can barely walk sometimes. He was strong, but now he's weak. And he's also a quitter...when the doctors finally offer a diagnosis , if it's going to be a battle, he'll fold his cards. And I can't fix this either. I can't diagnose him, cure him or motivate him to fight. I can't do anything but watch and hope and prepare myself and hold my breath and pray and wait....and feel helpless and tired and vulnerable.


I'm tired...I'm sad...I'm helpless. But this isn't all there is. There's more to life than these feelings and I've got plenty of reasons to push thru this. Helpless doesn't mean hopeless. Sad doesn't mean it's over. I've just got to push thru to the other side. I've got to take a nap to get my energy back or focus on all the good things my son has to offer...and he has a lot...I just have to let myself cry for awhile and then pull myself up by my bootstraps and get on with it. I've got to give myself permission to experience these muddy feelings instead of trying to avoid them. I've got to experience life, right now, exactly like it is, and I'll get thru this. I am getting thru this. It is OKAY to feel overwhelmed and underprepared. This is my day TODAY but not every day...the sun really will come out tomorrow. And if not, then the next day or the next or the next....