We’ve had some weird issues lately as it relates to Wesley and the challenges of raising a child who struggles with processing some emotions. While I’m no longer comfortable sharing his story online, I find myself daily wishing I had friends who I could call who really understood these challenges. Just last night I was thinking, No one. I know no one in real life I can call right now to seek counsel. There needs to be support groups, the problem is it’s not an easily compartmentalized or categorized struggle. It’s not autism. It’s not ADD. There’s no physical ailment. My kid struggles with processing shame and anxiety and resorts to anger. There’s no cute logo to put on my license plate to find other parents struggling. The best I can do is hang out at Target and find the kid pitching the tantrum and the Mom doing everything she can to remain calm (because – due to various counseling from therapists and doctors and books and TED talks – remaining calm is always a must) and just walk up to her, slip her a bottle of wine with my phone number on it and whisper in her ear: Call me.
I think she would find that creepy though. Right?
I don’t know. I’m also feeling a little anxious because this entry has gotten shared a few more times than my usual stuff in a few more different platforms and I’m keeping an eye on it. I’m happy people relate to it, VERY happy, as I think it’s important for all of us to recognize our privilege, but THE INTERNET IS FULL OF CRAZY PEOPLE. But when my stats spike for ANY reason I start to panic a little. Once I wrote an entry about how we should quit hating on people who shop on Thanksgiving and quit forgetting that some people need that double-wage day to help with Christmas and HOLY SHIT. That thing got shared like 20K times and I got all of the crazies in all of the land. I had to finally close down comments because I was deleting mean ones (MY BLOG, MY RULES) left and right. And I’m like, If an entry defending shopping on Thanksgiving brings out this much rage, then one about white privilege is going to get really hairy.
I also had to attend a social event last night where there was a lot of people in a small space and you all know my anxieties develop exponentially in those situations. The more people in the smaller space the worse my anxiety. People think anxiety attacks are hyperventilating and freaking out but for me? My anxiety attacks manifest in a few different ways, but the most common way is my whole brain starts to shut down. I try to become part of the furniture or wall or floor and just freeze in some sort of catatonic state. I’m terrible. People kept thinking there was something wrong with me and I’m like, “Oh – don’t mind me. Just faulty chemistry in my brain and this much stimulation and socializing causes all of my neurons to misfire making me unable to relax or enjoy myself! I’m dying on the inside! Merry Christmas!”
UGG. Seriously. I hate myself some days.
And let’s don’t even start on how my running has stopped completely. I came away from my last crazy race weekend with some crazy shin splints and a lot of apathy and the two combined have not done anything to motivate me. Then send my husband away on business for a week and me having no family to turn to for help (see first paragraph) and I just sat on my butt all week.
Ugg. Some days, you know? It’s just like your brain is trying to handle several different conflicts at once and you just cant seem to get on track going in any direction? My train has been derailed inside a roundhouse. Not only am I off track, but there are 14 options in front of me and I can’t even decide which track to finally head down when I get back on which makes me lose all motivation to right myself. I’ll just lay here upside down in my engine car hoping there’s snacks somewhere.
Tomorrow will be better, I’m sure. The rain is supposed to clear which will be nice as I haven’t seen the sun in several days.