Cheers

2019.

It's been the year of separation. Change. Sadness. Self-discovery. Loss. Gains.

It's been so so hard.

I had actually written another year end post as a draft a few weeks ago.

I'm choosing to keep it as a draft for now. It's personal and a lot and perhaps I only wrote it for myself.

So here I am on New Year's Eve. Alone on my couch with music in the background, dogs barking, and my sweatpants on.

Very obviously not here are my children. This is the first time that I've never rung in the New Year with Kyle. It's oh so very hard.

Tonight would also ironically mark the 25th anniversary of mine and Michael's very first date.

And no matter the state of our marriage at this point (this is the year of separation.....'20 will be the year of divorce) I will always think of that night as the beginning of a chapter of my life. So I cannot look at it as anything but a positive thing. Ultimately my children came from me having that first date.

I hate New Year's resolutions. I actually despise them. Yet I've made them in the past.

Lose weight.
More organized.
Yell at the kids less.
Fold laundry straight outta the dryer.
Keep the house cleaner.


All of those have been personal ones of mine. And some I succeeded at longer than others.

But one thing I never made a resolution to do was to just keep going.

No specific expectations.

Just don't stop.

If you make one resolution this year, please do that for me. Just do you. You don't need to change yourself for the sanity of someone else.

I have always been the epitome of the person who wants to please everyone. Except myself.

I have no clue how to not have a soft heart and a high expectation for people to follow through on things. I have a hard time dealing with disappointments.

I know I have to lose people close to me to gain my own self-respect and self-love.

And I don't know if I am capable of reaching that goal. I can try to just have a harder heart. But I honestly don't know if that's in my nature to do.

I have no idea what the next year holds for me. For you. For my kids. For my family.

I just hope you all keep going no matter what happens.

One In Four

I have been stuck in a rut lately. I'm not talking about just not wanting to do my laundry.

I'm talking about laying in my bed not caring if it gets done or not.

I'm telling you this because someone else you know is feeling the same way today.

One in four people suffer from some sort of mental illness.

I suffer from extreme anxiety as well as depression. You don't "get over it". There is such a stigma associated with this diagnosis and it makes people not want to talk about it and pretend that it isn't there. Some people are embarrassed...... I know because I was.

I also have a 13 year old son who suffers with debilitating anxiety. For anyone who would like to argue with me that a child should be able to control and rationalize those kinds of feelings, I would have you spend a day with Kyle at school. We are trying our best to help him cope with these feelings.

While our anxiety probably began long ago, it was triggered about 3 years ago when we almost lost David due to sepsis. Kyle began having some behavior changes about 6 weeks after David got sick. At first we assumed it was related to his attention deficit disorder. But after seeing our dr and pinpointing certain struggles, we caught on to anxiety really quick. At first we just tried managing it with him going to therapy and talking it out. Last year he began taking anti-anxiety medication under the supervision of a psychologist who also took over managing his ADD.

About a month after Kyle was diagnosed with his anxiety I finally sought help for my own as well. Recognizing the fact that I wasn't ok was so difficult for me. I fought a war within myself. I finally realized I couldn't heal if I was pretending I wasn't hurt. I was crying over spilled milk every day. It was minuscule things. I began taking anti-anxiety medication and I can remember going in for my first medication check and crying because I felt NO different. And my dr explained that I had gone over 18 years hiding that I was truly suffering. We changed the dosage and added a booster and that seemed to help. I can't speak for Kyle......but the medication doesn't make me different. At first I couldn't even see where it was helping me. And then one day, I had an epiphany that I hadn't broken down in tears in probably a week. Going to see a therapist that I trust also helps me IMMENSELY.

When I started going through my divorce, those feelings of not being good enough came flooding back. I knew that I needed to address those feelings before they became so real I could no longer do anything for them. So now I have a situational anxiety pill that has been a lifesaver for me in high stress life situations.

I want you to know that there is NOTHING wrong with medication. There is nothing wrong with therapy. There is nothing wrong if one thing works for one person and another thing helps someone else. There is nothing wrong with finally seeing that life is hard and you might need help.

You might be surprised that I have depression and anxiety. I am one of the ones who normally can hide it. I smile and pretend that everything is ok. I don't ask for help because my kids are my responsibility and I will always take care of them no matter what my anxiety and depression is saying to me that day.

My goal is not to ask for sympathy. Empathy is nice. But also not totally necessary. I want to be held accountable. There are days that my anxiety might get the best of me. I know there are days that Kyle's anxiety gets the best of him. But I want to be able to find my own coping strategies and help Kyle find his. I won't use anxiety as an excuse and I am TRYING so hard to not let Kyle use it as an excuse.

I just want you to know that Kyle and I are one in four and there is NOTHING wrong with that.

Please have a caring heart. Especially at the holidays. You might not understand it. You might think it's as easy as shaking off an insult or a feeling of inadequacy. It is SO much more than that. Be a good friend. Teach your kids to be good friends and to have good hearts and good intentions. Teach them that there is a stigma with mental health and it can be really hard on a child to be so uniquely different that they put an unwanted spotlight on themselves for being different.

Don't feel sorry for us. Just be educated and caring. That's what this world needs more of. 

Who Would You Be

This time of year is hard on everyone.

But for the mothers of special needs children (in my case with neuro-typical developmental delays) it's so much harder.

Children with special needs struggle. The change in the household with the decorations, shopping in large crowds, the extra noise, the long days at special family events, etc. Those things can cause major meltdowns, crying fits, stimming, and other non-typical behaviors.

David is 19 years old. Mentally he's roughly anywhere between 6-12 months old. His fine motor skills are somewhere in the 3-6 month level. He loves to chew on baseball hats. He loves brightly covered mirrors. He likes to chew on these really small golfing towels.

Nothing a typical 19 year old teenager would be doing.

I do sometimes find myself wondering what life would be like if David didn't have the TELO2 genetic mutations that he has. I wonder what it would be like to not have the vast knowledge of genetics. Of gastrointestinal complications. Of seizures. Of IEP's. Of wheelchairs and adaptive equipment. Of suction machines. Etc.

Would David be almost a semester into his second year of college? Aiming towards a degree in some awesome field?

Would he love to watch and play sports? Soccer? Baseball???

Would he have a favorite video game?

Would he have a girlfriend?

Would he pick on and fight with his little brother?

Good Lord. I HOPE he'd be potty trained.


I used to plead with God to make him typical. To help him "outgrow" whatever it was that was impeding him in life. I wanted him to change SO badly. I didn't have the strength at 21 to know that this little boy was going to change my life.

David is definitely my best friend. When you spend so much time with an individual and constantly have them in your personal space.......you become soul mates. I know that sounds odd. But I bet a  million of my virtual special needs mamas would completely understand what I'm talking about.

I pray. Nightly. And 99% of the time I truly do thank God that he didn't listen to my prayers 17, 18, or 19 years ago. There is that 1% of the time that I question my ability to have patience with this kind of lifestyle. I question why me????

But I truly know that if David was going to college, dating, or anything else listed above.....he wouldn't be my son. He would be a stranger to me. David is David. There is no other person who is able to be my best friend.

And David makes me who I am. I'd be a completely different kind of mother had he not made such an impact on me. He's changed my heart in almost 20 years.

He is truly amazing. Both my boys are. And I am very grateful for them.

You don't "heal" special needs. You nurture them and make the best out of even the worst of times.