Contradiction

Totally frustrated.  Walking a thin line on these ones:

• Be strong enough to do things for yourself, but don't forget to ask for help when it's needed.
• Don't be a victim, but don't blame yourself for everything.
• You're never going to be perfect, but keep trying because it makes you a better person.
• Accept reality, but change what you can.
• Avoiding things is not effective, but distance yourself from them so you can think.
• Don't think only about yourself, but don't worry about others.
• Napping is a form of avoidance, but make sure you are getting ample sleep.
• Learn how to self-soothe in a distressing situation, but someone else giving you a hug is form of soothing.
• Let your kids fall to learn how to pick themselves up for the future, but validate them and let them know you are there.
• Be in the moment and don't be anxious about the future, but cope ahead for what may come.
• Don't let your emotions take you over, but be emotional because that's just who you are.
• Being imperfect IS perfect.
• Your diagnosis doesn't matter, but we are still giving you one.

A wise young woman once said...

Earlier today I got an email from one of my good friends with a quote he found from an email I wrote to him in June of 2001 (he found it in his computer archives, good hoarder, huh?).

"Sympathy is annoying, but support is welcome."

So true!  I was far beyond my years....  *pat on back* 

After writing back asking what the email was about, he informed me that I wrote it after a huge break up with my college boyfriend and a major down slide into depression.  Funny how this applies so differently now!

One of the worst things anyone can say to a parent of a special needs child is "I'm sorry" or "You poor thing" or "You have your hands full" or "Bless your soul" or "You're a saint"....  I fully admit this is the first thing that pops into my head when meeting others in predicaments close to mine, and in fact, I said to one of my peer special needs mommas last weekend, "Aren't you a saint?"  I did, however, quickly catch myself after I said it saying, "Don't you hate it when people say that?" and we chatted about how it just kind of comes out.

The fact is that people do not know what to say when they meet special needs children (or anyone with disabilities for that matter).  It's so hard to treat them "normal," I guess.

I'd like people to meet Tyson and ask him about Spiderman, the "guy" he's holding in his hand, or his awesome light-up Cars shoes.  Instead, most people who meet him talk directly to me (as if he has no cognitive ability to know that they are standing in front of them).  Where as when they meet Annie, per se, they ask her questions:  What grade are you in?  What dance classes do you take? Where'd you get that pretty dress?

Because of this, I meet other special needs children and quite often ignore their parent first and talk directly to them.  In fact, when we ran into Tyson's friend and his brothers (2 of the three are on the autism spectrum) at the orchard last weekend, I immediately became best friends with the oldest boy who took me by the hand wanting me to see the goats with him because I talked directly to him. I showed him love and acknowledgement.  I cannot tell you how much the smile on his face and his warm hand in mine filled my heart with joy!  I dare you to do it sometime!

So I'm challenging all special needs parents here to help those outside our loop on how to handle this situation.  I want to know what you think others should say to you when they find out you have a special needs child and what you would like others to say to your child to include them in the world.  Has someone said something profound to you when realizing God blessed you with this special person?  Please share.

Julie says....

Monday mornings I have individual therapy (and every Wednesday I have group therapy).  My first instinct Monday morning was that I didn't want to go.  But I heard my therapist's voice in my head saying, "When you don't feel like it, that's when you need it most."  I reluctantly showered and dressed, even put on make-up.  I should have known better than to put on make-up.  After the craptastic week I had prior and Sunday's dress debacle, it was inevitable that I would be crying fiercely during this session.

Before I go on, I should inform you that crying during a therapy session is not at all a pity party.  It used to be, before I started with this therapist and this program a year ago.  And those pity party therapy sessions did jack shit for helping me through anything.  So I am glad and grateful that they are no longer like that.  Nope, my therapist, Julie, kicks my ass.  We dig deep into my feelings, what triggers them, what urges and behaviors they cause (yes the two are different), and what ways I can deal with them, and so on and so forth.  I also go into every therapy session with homework I have done from my last appointment.  She tells me every week what she wants me to work on, gives me specific tasks...basically she makes sure I don't get complacent during the times I don't have her riding my ass.  Does this sound annoying to you?  It is to some extent, but it is so helpful.  I've been going to therapy on and off since I was 9 and taking medications from a psychiatrist since I was 17.  I'm 30 now (**shutter**) and this is the first time I feel like any therapy is actually working.  So as much as I want to say that I hate Julie, and sometimes I do, I love her more.

So Monday, I cried.  I cried quite a bit.  Mostly, I cried because I feel so down and am having a really hard time pinpointing exactly what is causing it. You see, if I can figure out why I am feeling something, then I usually can figure out how to deal with it considerably better than the maladaptive way I have in the past.  When I started getting down last week, I started searching for why.  And when I couldn't find out why, like there was no specific event or occurrence that caused it, I got completely stressed out and got even more down because I felt like I was a failure.

Turns out I'm not perfect.  Really, I'm not.  I know you think I am...I know I think I am, but I'm not.  So it's ok to fail and it's ok to not enjoy failing.  But with that being said, I didn't fail, I just felt like I did.  But that's ok too.  Hold on...lemme try to make more sense of this.

First, Julie said there may not be something that actually happened that caused my dip...or it may have just been a compilation of everything going on in the last few weeks--turning 30, still being sick after 6 weeks, my Uncle who passed away last Fall having his first birthday in heaven on the 8th, etc.  But more importantly, whatever it was, it's more important for me to radically accept that these times will happen because I am never going to be perfectly happy all the time (no one is).  Plus, I have the chemical component in my brain that will ensure this for the rest of my life.  Do I just lay down and take it though?  Absolutely not!  I just find ways to get through it...effective ways.

Here's a shocking revealing fact about me (remember, don't judge)...I'm a cutter.  I haven't done it in almost a year. But when I feel really down and it feels like it is not controllable in the slightest, my urge is to cut myself to have control over the pain I feel. If I cause the pain, then I am controlling it.  Phew, this feels like a heavy topic I should give it's own blog, I think.  So let's just leave it at that for now.  I am a cutter because I have the urge to do that to control the pain even though I have not acted on this urge in almost a year.  I'll talk more in depth about this in the future.  But remember now, as you know this piece of information, you don't know all the facts about it, so you cannot judge it.  Keep that in mind.

Last week was the first time I have felt my emotions so out of control that I felt like cutting again.  Didn't act on it, but I did feel like I wanted to do it.  And that brought me shame.  I hate that part of me.  I hate that I could not find a way to deal with the depression that didn't involve hurting myself.  The shame leads to guilt...I feel guilty that I allowed myself to even think about that.  The guilt and shame leads to more depression.  The depression leads to trying to find a way to cope.  The easiest and least harmful way of coping is to sleep.  I know deep inside that the pain will pass, so I like to skip over that.  Or at least I have used this coping method in the past.  I've slept for days just waiting for the wave to break and life can be "normal" again.  This time, I didn't cut, and I didn't sleep. But both urges were there.  Just give in...it's easier.

Just the urges, just the fleeting thoughts to succumb to the blech feeling (a technical term in my book), those feel like failure to me again....  That damn failure thing!  I like to be the best!  I like to do everything well better than anyone else!  I like to amaze people with all that I can do!  So when I can't do something, it's failure to me.  Julie says that the only way I can be perfect is to fail like everyone else.  So to cope with failure, all I have to do is accept that everyone fails and it's ok.  Wow, easier said than done!  I've been working on this for a year and will be working on this until the day I die.

You have no idea how hard acceptance is.  You know if you want to raise your left hand to itch your nose, you can easily do that.  You know that if you want to push out a fart, you can do that too.  You know that if you want to stick your finger into an electrical socket, go ahead, you can do it!  But try to do the action of acceptance. Hard, isn't it?

Another thing that kills me, no one can tell me how to accept things.  I cannot read a book to learn how to do it.  If you know me at all, you know I can pick up any hobby and kick its ass within a week becoming a pro.  Not being able to do this KILLS me!  Again, it's a control thing!  I cannot give you or anyone else pearls of wisdom on how to do this...but I can tell you it needs to be done.  It makes me squirm just thinking about how vague that is.

Back to my therapy session, Julie said try to cope with the depression in the most effective way possible, but more importantly remember that it's not forever and you have gotten through it before so it will not kill you.  Acknowledge the urges, then acknowledge the strength it took you to not succumb to them.  Be proud of yourself for not getting down on yourself for feeling like you aren't in control.  No one is in control...

I wish I could tell you I feel better today. I wish I could tell you I am out of the funk, all is well, she worked magic in telling me what she did.  But I'd be lying...  BUT the good thing is I'm ok with it, and I will get through it.