Tag: mental-health

Stop Trying

If everyone could see your thoughts like a bubble floating above your head, would you change the way you think? The words running through your mind when you have nothing but silence at the end of the day are not always chosen though. They appear like scenes in a movie, clips from your life or perhaps a daydream of things yet to happen. Which ones do you grasp and hold on to? If you choose the latter, you might find yourself on a path to motivation. Next thing you know you’re making plans, getting back on that bike and dancing in the kitchen. Or do you let the movie play out, reminding yourself that it doesn’t matter who you are, because no one wants you.

I’ve read horrendous stories of those who have been left as children with nothing but the clothes on their backs and sometimes not even their shoes. And then there are others who you would have no idea walk among us with no one to even call if they should need a shoulder to cry on. When you are taking care of yourself and perhaps a few others, it makes people feel really uncomfortable real quick when that person starts to cry. Sometimes they just offer unsolicited advice or tell you what you already know and that “you got this”. But whatever they are saying, they are saying to comfort themselves, not you.

Trust is a two way street that I pretty much never cross. I know I’m honest. I know I have integrity. I don’t say this to be smug, just that I know who I am. I don’t lie and I don’t feel right trying to be something I’m not whether someone is watching or not. But I realize this also makes people uneasy, mostly because many are not comfortable in themselves. I am so used to being put in uncomfortable situations from the time I was a kid, that it doesn’t bother me to own up to something I messed up or say something that is direct. All the stuff in between really is just like watching an ad for something you really don’t want. Look at me! Look what I can do! It’s just not my thing. I’m not hear to people please or make someone say, wow, she really makes me feel good, let’s keep her in our lives. No I want to be the person that they say, wow, she really will tell you the truth and I know I can trust her. I never have to worry that she is going to be passive aggressive or manipulative. That’s the kind of person I want people to like about me, but no one likes me. So I’m finding that the majority, just prefers being lied to. Like those ads. No really, just buy this and you will be better off! And they buy it, and if that were not true then we wouldn’t have so many places that sell so much stuff.

Then there are those times when you just wish you could hide, like not just from other people, but even yourself. Because in being honest, we are not always polite or thoughtful. And then we realize that it really was a moment of stupidity. Maybe you had one too many, or you let your emotions get to the conversation and didn’t consider all aspects of a situation. But either way, we are going to mess up. I like to just immediately resolve this, but of course this isn’t how life works. Many times it is not until later that I’ve had some time to myself to realize I’ve even said something stupid. And you can’t always go back in time or to that person. I find it’s best to just chalk up to, you tried. And you know you didn’t mean to cause harm, so next time, put on your listening ears. And this is how we become human. We try better next time.

Those thoughts though, even after hours or days or months or years of enjoying the life. Giving back, being motivated or being self absorbed and lazy. Realizing you will never be loved by another outside of your own kin is a depression that shows up. It shows up when I’m smiling ear to ear in a picture. It attends meetings at work or concerts and events. Inserts itself in conversation and then has the audacity to overstay its welcome. I’ve been successful many times and like to think that I have it outplayed when I distract it and move along. But it’s clingy and always comes back. Depression is the most unwelcome guest in your daily life that you never know when it will show up expecting to be entertained. It’s one sided and provides nothing during its visit. And at the end of the day, the only thing people care about is that we “handle it”. So you do. And you move on with it biting at your ankles while you smile and just shake it off.

This is the story of someone who stopped trying.

*** to be continued

Define Perfect

No one, not one thing is perfect.  What does the word even mean?  My son has asked me from time to time.  I can’t say as I really understand how to answer.

And those that think they may know someone that is, typically are the furthest from what I do think perfect might actually be. The word itself gives off a negative connotation.  If you think some one or some thing may be perfect, then you are stating everything outside of that is imperfect.  Then how do we define imperfect? 

It seems as though it is associated with anything that may make others uncomfortable. Out of the ordinary is not necessarily imperfect.  It could be a beautiful display of art, something so unique.  Rather though, it is those that choose to be their ordinary selves that evoke disgust or rejection from others.

I’ve encountered this more than I would have ever like to since my son was born.  While it is to be expected that other kids can be cruel at times, I was not fully prepared to see the cruelty of the school system.  My son entered first grade happily.  He was no doubt, overly stimulated by the loud students, extroverted teachers and large building.  To amend that, I was brought in for observation and viewed a teacher rewarding my son with a light up bouncy ball when he would sit quietly.  Oh yes, let’s provide a 7 year old with more stimulation, then punish him for using it during class, in which was the place it was given to him.

From then on, the phone calls and emails from teachers, principals and counselors poured in.  Berating is the word that comes to mind.  And as a single parent with no one else to take the load, it was border line harassment.  I began providing supports for my son, had him diagnosed (Aspergers at the time), therapy, but I did not understand what could be offered by the school.  That very moment of his diagnosis, the school met with me advising they would place him in a school that suited his needs better.  No special needs coordinator or IEP, just kicked out into a school where kids were put in rooms to be screamed at as though they were in boot camp.  Metal detectors lined the entrances.  My son was horrified, scared and so was I.

I wrote the district’s superintendent.  He agreed, he was angry he was never made aware of my son and his situation and immediately got me in touch with the Special Needs coordinator who taught me all about IEP’s and support classes.  We got him out and  put him in a better environment, but the damage was done.  My son no longer could trust adults, teachers or principals.

Unfortunately, trauma takes time to work through, and as he grew into middle school, he carried that weight.  Teachers frequently report that my son “thinks the world is out to get him”.  And I frequently remind them of what he has been through.  All the while being bullied day in and day out.  Beat up, called retard and receiving death threats to the point where sheriffs provide their cell numbers in case I may need them in the future. Yet the school staff continues to ignore it all, putting the blame of my son’s “bad behavior” on him and I.  And I continue to remind them that they are not following his IEP.  That they will not see changed behavior if they cannot provide a changed environment.  Meeting after meeting, it is only when I pull in another advocate and begin to push back that his needs are ”somewhat” met. 

To further show you just how uncomfortable my son and I make the perfect people at his school, just the other day I received a visit from a social worker with allegations that I am abusive.  My son was scared and immediately stated he would never think this, of course.

The report came in that because my son wears coats, even when it’s warm outside, he must be covering up physical abuse.  They stated that he watches violent videos and his art work is disturbing.  There is no hiding the fact that my son loves horror.  And as long as he is not threatening others or himself, I am supportive of this interest.  He tells stories, creates videos and loves psychological situations, including SciFi.  He is in middle school and can certainly be awkward at times.  He has been wearing coats throughout his years in school because it makes him feel safe and keeps the germs off he says.  As soon as he comes home he takes it all off and is the typical shorts and tshirt kinda kid.  He is that disgusted by school, that he has certain clothes he won’t even touch once he is home.  He is intelligent and extremely observant.  He is imperfect.  However he is very good at reading others moods.  He understands politics and corruption.  Loves history and gaming.  He is extremely out of the ordinary, yet completely and genuinely himself.

So at the end of the day, I ask those that accuse me of being a bad parent and my son of being a bad kid….are you perfect?  I wonder if every time you see someone or something that looks different than you, acts a little odd and might even be a little sarcastic and bold, you judge them?  You tell yourself there must be something wrong with his home, his friends, his use of screens because at the end of the day, it couldn’t possibly be my classroom, my teaching, me that is causing this imperfection?

I don’t know much about the personal lives of these educators, but I do know this.  They don’t have autism.  And the one’s always looking to find things wrong with my son instead of figuring out how to make things right for him (because isn’t that their job, to work with kids and help them learn in their way) don’t have kids that can’t complete a task without zoning out.  Do they have kids at home that are so sensitive that it is a daily struggle just to get them to wash their hair or face?  Not because their kids, but because it is actually painful?  Do they know what it is like to see their kid want to talk about psychology and the study of seals more than wanting to play baseball?  Or to understand that their child needs extra time because they are slow processors?  That they are not able to answer a question within your time frame?  That they need to think and sometimes they over think, obsess and become stuck on one thing.  And if they did have these kids at home, would they not want their schools to provide these supports?  Supports such as time and patience, peace and quiet, the ability to take time to answer questions and use thought instead of being constantly berated to hurry up.   My son’s disgust for school has nothing to do with his education.  He is interested.  But if you are expected to go to a rave to learn about biology, how would you behave?  How much would you be able to absorb and learn?  Let’s throw you into a pot of chaos and then tell you to finish your assignments, not be irritable or distracted. 

I have always believed that perfection is a disgusting disguise of those who judge others.  Anyone not being genuinely who they are with expectation that others act this way as well should be defined as being perfect and held to their impossible standard.  My son and I will continue to be imperfect, lively freely with no desire to be influenced by your preconceived ideas of what a single mother and autistic son should be.  We are our own and I can assure you that we are more honest and loving towards each other than most families with two parents or siblings.  We do it our way and we will no longer apologize for not fitting in your class room.