As we weather yet another Category 4 meltdown tonight, I find myself hoping hes getting sick, hoping he has an ear infection, hoping there is something physical going on that will pass soon. Because these daily meltdowns are wearing on me in a way I cant fully describe. Its stressful, yes, but its also mentally and physically exhausting. Watching him struggle to control himself rips out my heart, while his newly-acquired communication skills make me simultaneously proud and angry (no matter how proud you are of a kid who has struggled to gain the skills to do it, NO! I WONT BECAUSE IM NOT LISTENING TO YOU!! is going to grate on the nerves). As the tears pour down his anguished face, I feel every syllable of his words like knives to my heart. The accusation in his beautiful eyes, the betrayal that I am not helping him to understand himself. And the pain. The pain that he doesnt understand why he is crying, that he doesnt know how to make it stop, that he cant find his center. Most days, I get to watch his triumphs. My heart swells with pride and joy as he grows. But the price for that privilege is this . . . agony. This helplessness. This anger and sadness and guilt and grief and helplessness. Its a price worth paying, theres no doubt. But it is still a steep price.
Posted on: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 00:40:47 +0000
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