Semantics therapy

December 16, 2009 at 1:37 pm 5 comments

     I worked on a research paper with my favorite professor in college. Part of our hypothesis was that behavior doesn’t change language. After showing that no matter how integrated Spanish-speaking people became in American culture, their ties to their native language did not change, I became a believer in the idea that language changes behavior as opposed to the other way around. While I wouldn’t go as far as saying the book The Secret is truth and gospel, I do believe there is much power in the thoughts and words we chose to believe and use.

     That probably explains my attempts to constantly see the upside for everything going on in our lives. Husband getting downsized last spring? The initial freak-out was replaced by the thought that it was an opportunity for him to find the perfect job, since the other one was clearly not. C getting picked on at school? He will grow up to be a much more sensitive person. My own health going off the deep end? It’s an opportunity to really change the course of how I will feel in 20 years and take stock in both my physical and emotional well-being.

     However, to be totally honest, there are huge gaps of simple, utter frustration and stress. While I think we’ve certainly accepted what is with C and actually take quite a bit of joy in the things his diagnosis brings both him and us, it does take its toll. Some days, within 15 minutes of his being home from school I’m ready to jump out the proverbial window, despite living in a one-story house. I wonder if I have the patience or stamina to give this child what he needs, because I often think what he needs is so much bigger than what I can give him. And sometimes that frankly just sucks. Raising a child with a diagnosis is hard, and it’s a lot of work. It takes its toll on me as a parent, and no matter how much I love C just the way he is, I can’t stop the gray hair from coming, my heart from being weary, and my head from sometimes craving an escape to somewhere, anywhere, but here.

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Entry filed under: autism. Tags: , , , , , , , .

Survivor, my style This broken heart

5 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Shivon  |  December 16, 2009 at 3:00 pm

    You are fantastic.

    Reply
  • 2. pixiemama  |  December 16, 2009 at 6:54 pm

    I feel you. I hear you. I wish I could help.

    love.

    Reply
  • 3. mama edge  |  December 16, 2009 at 9:56 pm

    OMG! I spent an hour with my therapist this week where he talked about how important it is for parents like us to occasionally admit that THIS SUCKS and that we’re going to be in the dumps about it. Sometimes all that “bright side” talk keeps us from acceptance because we shut out the sad feelings.

    That sucks, too.

    Wish you weren’t going through this, but I’m grateful that we can go through this together!

    Reply
  • 4. therocchronicles  |  December 17, 2009 at 7:50 am

    Oh my, you just completely described the way I feel many days. I try to blog about the positive with the Roc because I want to focus on the positive and it helps me. BUT, I HEAR you about wanting to jump out the window and/or escape sometimes, many times. It’s the ongoingness (I know, not a word) of EVERYTHING that gets to me sometimes. It never ends, the struggles just change, we keep pushing uphill. Feeling that I am the ONE to DEAL with everything everyday totally takes it’s toll. When he wakes up in a foul mood or comes home whacked out from a hard day it’s so difficult to keep the positive vibes flowing.

    I have no answer, other than suggesting margaritas (hey-meet me in Tucson in Feb for one! kinda far for you though!), but wanted to say “me too.” You are doing a fantastic job at a HARD job. It’s okay to feel this way sometimes.

    Big hug!

    Reply
  • 5. robinaltman  |  December 17, 2009 at 7:40 pm

    I’m so sorry. It does suck, and you do deserve a break. Might I suggest a baby sitter, a nice dinner, a movie and sex?

    I’m with Mama Edge, here. Your upbeat attitude makes my heart sing, but everyone needs a good kvetch every now and then.

    I try really hard to see the bright side of everything at work, and to keep upbeat, for myself and for everyone I see. Yet sometimes, it gets to be too much of a burden. Then I cry for a bit in bed.
    Afterward, I go out to dinner, see a movie, and have sex. We don’t need a babysitter anymore. 😉

    Reply

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