Confessions of a Special Needs Mom

Confession....
There are moments when I want to scream, "Grow the fuck up! This isn't that hard. It's not scary. Little kids are doing this. LITTLE KIDS! Kids much, much younger and smaller than you are doing this with absolutely zero problems. And here you are... too terrified to try. Please just try it. Just do it once and then maybe, MAYBE you will understand that there is nothing to be afraid of. Maybe then you will know you CAN do this."

Truth...
I don't really believe any of that. I know, I KNOW, that my son legitimately cannot do certain things. I know that his sensory issues and anxiety are very real, very valid things that prevent him from doing a long list of things that should be simple for a kid his age. I know he can't "just try" and even if he did somehow get through the anxiety to try... the sensory issues would most likely validate his fears rather than expel them. I know. And yet I still get frustrated.

Reality...
I get so damned frustrated at these things that hold my son back. I hate them!!! I know we tell our kids to never say, "hate" because it's sinful word. But I hate. I HATE the sensory processing disorder that plagues my child and prevents him from playing with other kids because he just can't do what they're doing. And I HATE the anxiety that keeps him from trying something that he might enjoy. I hate these things and they frustrate the hell out of me.

Confession...
I just want to scream "Go the fuck away and let my child grow up! This shouldn't be so hard. It's not supposed to be scary. Little kids are doing this. LITTLE KIDS! Kids much, much younger and smaller than he is are doing this with absolutely zero problems. And here you are preventing my child from having fun... making him too terrified to try. Please just ease up enough on him to let him try it. Just let him do it once and don't send him into sensory overload when he does. Please! Just let him be able to do this."

Harder truth...
He sees my frustration. He sees it in my eyes and in my face. I try to hide it but I can't. And he sees. And he says, "Sorry Mom." He says, "sorry," as if it is his fault. And I hug him and hold him close and tell him that I'm frustrated with the things that hold him back, but not with him. Never with him. He tells me how frustrated he is with them as well. And then I tell him how much I love him and how proud I am of the things he does and of who he is.

Reality...
Some things get better. Some things get easier. Other things never do. Some actually get harder. Things that people take for granted, we will always see as struggles. We have mountains to climb. Some are worth climbing and others we learn to take the path around. Frustrations come. They will always come. Together we find ways to fight them off.



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