I came home, threw my purse away and fell into my bed and cried and cried and cried this afternoon. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, I was having a panic attack after years.....My husband was totally shocked, see I still surprise him after all these years.
As I was driving home this afternoon, after a long day of training, I called my best friend and words wouldn't come out. She knew, she just knew and I knew too. When Arti calls and doesn't speak, and literally chokes, that's severity 1 in her viewpoint. It is serious, shit has hit the fan, she calmly told me to drive home safe and call when I was ready. I am still not ready, but that's okay. She will ping me before bed and make sure I am safe. That's the preciousness of some friendships, I guess. Yesterday was a HORRIBLE day, a customer slightly yelled at me that threw me off completely at work. I took it personally and took it on my boss and it spiraled out of control from there. I normally am very calm and collected and reason with my customers and never let it affect me personally, isn't that called "experience", "maturity"?
Few days ago, I frantically called my therapist after almost a year and asked him for an "urgent" appointment. He accommodated me soon and I sat there on the couch and spoke those dreadful words, "Sam hits me". He was surprised and waited calmly for me to cry into his box of tissues. I told him how it all started after our vacation in Feb and how he has hurt me and almost hit every hour for six hours continuously one morning starting at 4 am. Literally attacked me while I was asleep. I explained how horrified I felt, how I couldn't accept it in the beginning that it wasn't happening to me, how lonely I felt, how the experience was literally out-of-body like they say, I was watching myself get hit by a 5 ft 100 pound youth and couldn't do much about it. And I ignored it for days, I thought it was the autism mixed with early puberty, mixed with transition from vacation. I warned school and all care givers to be careful around him, last thing I wanted was someone suing us because he hurt another child, but I ignored to warn myself all those days. I took it for days, the scratches, bruises, covering myself up with scarves to work and a fake response to "How was your weekend?", "Oh well, the usual". Weekends were even worse, it was my responsibility to engage him and also recharge myself for work. Clean the house, hang out with my spouse, relax, wash my hair!, run some errands AND get some sleep. None of these happened, except for some hair washes.
The hitting got more and more serious, more in public places and I lost a small portion of my scalp in the process. Something I prefer not to think about but remember every time I brush my hair. After several days of torturing myself, changing the minutest things to make sure he did not get upset, I finally decided it was time to talk to some friends who understood. Fellow moms, my friend who is also a psychologist, my neighbor a therapist herself, everyone suggested I try medication for everyone's relief. The last thing I wanted to hear. There had to be another way to tell a 11 year old not to hit his mother, right? Take away his toys, time out, apparently, there wasn't. That's Autism 101 for you. And I was "fortunate" that he was my only child, as CPS would have to be reported if he was hurting his sibling or another child. Finally, his therapist and I went to a child psychiatrist who could only go by what Sam was exhibiting that day due to his lack of communication and diagnosed him with ADHD. We slowly started with a medication from half a dose to 2 doses now after two weeks and there have been no incidents ever since. Yay!! He has also been a happy child, not stoned like I believed it would make him. I called his psychiatrist today and gave him the good news that it has been working pretty well.
Now, back to my therapist's office from few days ago. He told me how normal it was for me to feel unloved, vulnerable, scared and defensive, how normal it was to be hesitant about medication, how normal it was to feel shitty and to have taken it quietly for almost 3 months. How normal it all really was. I was totally surprised and smiled for the first time in days. I said, "I need to sleep", I hadn't slept in days. He gave me a prescription that seems to be working for me. I have no idea how I functioned at work (apparently I have been rocking it), spoke calmly to all customers, smiled at events, buried myself with more work to escape the tragedy at home. I had almost given up Sam to our nanny, therapists and my husband to raise themselves the last 4 months. They did fine, actually they all did better than me. No one got majorly hurt and no one went into extreme depression like I did. The resentment one feels for a child is unbearable and the thought that I couldn't share with my friends was also horrible. I yelled at my friends for no reason, called some shallow for a petty issue, dropped out of Whatsapp groups, refused to go to anyone's house, did not return calls, refused to have lunch or coffee or spend weekends with anyone. I am still not ready to get back to my upbeat normal self yet. I have slowly started talking to few openly and they have only been supportive.
I cannot compare this with anything, not with a friend whose 5 year old is suffering from leukemia, another who got divorced and is lonely and miserable, close ones who yearn for a child, a companion, wives who get beaten, people with much more serious issues that I can only empathize with. And I refuse to listen to anyone who says it's okay. It is NOT okay. It is not okay to deal with this alone, it is not okay to not be able to share with close friends and only share pictures of vacation and check ins at restaurants. It is not okay to not be able to tell your co-workers that your weekend was not as good at you would want it to be. It is not okay to not have help and support and still be expected to do everything any normal mother would do. IT IS NOT OKAY to tell me your 2 year old hits too, because sorry, it is just not the same. It is NOT okay to be able to share that your child has a physical disability or cancer or allergies or heart issue and one is not allowed to share their mental health issues and it is "private". It is NOT okay to avoid these topics as we are only going to meet more autistic adults very soon in the next few years. It is okay to tell me it is okay to feel horrible. It is also okay to tell me, you just don't get it.
Now back to today, I sobbed into the pillow when my husband made me realize something I knew in some corner of my little brain. I have been discussing moving to Europe, quitting my job, moving to another job, moving to a bigger house, complaining all the time that I needed a change, some change. He pointed out, "You cannot run away from your child, all you can do is take a break. Go away for a month if you want, to get it together, we will be here waiting for you, but remember, no amount of vacation days and Europe trips will make your inner issues go away, you just have to learn to deal with it". While I really wanted to yell at him for being so insensitive, I knew he was right. I just cried, even more.
I am hoping tomorrow will make me stronger than today and all my yesterdays. I am hoping I find joy and learn to accept my decisions and my son even more. I hope even my worst enemies don't experience this sadness and resentment ever. I cried for all the friends I have lost, the relationships I haven't maintained, the joy I haven't been feeling around having a 10 year old, the meals I haven't been enjoying, the laughs I haven't been sharing. I hope I will be strong enough to reach out more, show my vulnerability more, make mistakes and apologize. In the process, I hope you know I value you, your friendship, our relationship and in turn I ask of you to just give me, my grief, my loneliness, my sadness, my embarrassment, my loss, my past, my present and my future some empathy, love and patience, without falsely re-assuring me, that it is okay!!
As I was driving home this afternoon, after a long day of training, I called my best friend and words wouldn't come out. She knew, she just knew and I knew too. When Arti calls and doesn't speak, and literally chokes, that's severity 1 in her viewpoint. It is serious, shit has hit the fan, she calmly told me to drive home safe and call when I was ready. I am still not ready, but that's okay. She will ping me before bed and make sure I am safe. That's the preciousness of some friendships, I guess. Yesterday was a HORRIBLE day, a customer slightly yelled at me that threw me off completely at work. I took it personally and took it on my boss and it spiraled out of control from there. I normally am very calm and collected and reason with my customers and never let it affect me personally, isn't that called "experience", "maturity"?
Few days ago, I frantically called my therapist after almost a year and asked him for an "urgent" appointment. He accommodated me soon and I sat there on the couch and spoke those dreadful words, "Sam hits me". He was surprised and waited calmly for me to cry into his box of tissues. I told him how it all started after our vacation in Feb and how he has hurt me and almost hit every hour for six hours continuously one morning starting at 4 am. Literally attacked me while I was asleep. I explained how horrified I felt, how I couldn't accept it in the beginning that it wasn't happening to me, how lonely I felt, how the experience was literally out-of-body like they say, I was watching myself get hit by a 5 ft 100 pound youth and couldn't do much about it. And I ignored it for days, I thought it was the autism mixed with early puberty, mixed with transition from vacation. I warned school and all care givers to be careful around him, last thing I wanted was someone suing us because he hurt another child, but I ignored to warn myself all those days. I took it for days, the scratches, bruises, covering myself up with scarves to work and a fake response to "How was your weekend?", "Oh well, the usual". Weekends were even worse, it was my responsibility to engage him and also recharge myself for work. Clean the house, hang out with my spouse, relax, wash my hair!, run some errands AND get some sleep. None of these happened, except for some hair washes.
The hitting got more and more serious, more in public places and I lost a small portion of my scalp in the process. Something I prefer not to think about but remember every time I brush my hair. After several days of torturing myself, changing the minutest things to make sure he did not get upset, I finally decided it was time to talk to some friends who understood. Fellow moms, my friend who is also a psychologist, my neighbor a therapist herself, everyone suggested I try medication for everyone's relief. The last thing I wanted to hear. There had to be another way to tell a 11 year old not to hit his mother, right? Take away his toys, time out, apparently, there wasn't. That's Autism 101 for you. And I was "fortunate" that he was my only child, as CPS would have to be reported if he was hurting his sibling or another child. Finally, his therapist and I went to a child psychiatrist who could only go by what Sam was exhibiting that day due to his lack of communication and diagnosed him with ADHD. We slowly started with a medication from half a dose to 2 doses now after two weeks and there have been no incidents ever since. Yay!! He has also been a happy child, not stoned like I believed it would make him. I called his psychiatrist today and gave him the good news that it has been working pretty well.
Now, back to my therapist's office from few days ago. He told me how normal it was for me to feel unloved, vulnerable, scared and defensive, how normal it was to be hesitant about medication, how normal it was to feel shitty and to have taken it quietly for almost 3 months. How normal it all really was. I was totally surprised and smiled for the first time in days. I said, "I need to sleep", I hadn't slept in days. He gave me a prescription that seems to be working for me. I have no idea how I functioned at work (apparently I have been rocking it), spoke calmly to all customers, smiled at events, buried myself with more work to escape the tragedy at home. I had almost given up Sam to our nanny, therapists and my husband to raise themselves the last 4 months. They did fine, actually they all did better than me. No one got majorly hurt and no one went into extreme depression like I did. The resentment one feels for a child is unbearable and the thought that I couldn't share with my friends was also horrible. I yelled at my friends for no reason, called some shallow for a petty issue, dropped out of Whatsapp groups, refused to go to anyone's house, did not return calls, refused to have lunch or coffee or spend weekends with anyone. I am still not ready to get back to my upbeat normal self yet. I have slowly started talking to few openly and they have only been supportive.
I cannot compare this with anything, not with a friend whose 5 year old is suffering from leukemia, another who got divorced and is lonely and miserable, close ones who yearn for a child, a companion, wives who get beaten, people with much more serious issues that I can only empathize with. And I refuse to listen to anyone who says it's okay. It is NOT okay. It is not okay to deal with this alone, it is not okay to not be able to share with close friends and only share pictures of vacation and check ins at restaurants. It is not okay to not be able to tell your co-workers that your weekend was not as good at you would want it to be. It is not okay to not have help and support and still be expected to do everything any normal mother would do. IT IS NOT OKAY to tell me your 2 year old hits too, because sorry, it is just not the same. It is NOT okay to be able to share that your child has a physical disability or cancer or allergies or heart issue and one is not allowed to share their mental health issues and it is "private". It is NOT okay to avoid these topics as we are only going to meet more autistic adults very soon in the next few years. It is okay to tell me it is okay to feel horrible. It is also okay to tell me, you just don't get it.
Now back to today, I sobbed into the pillow when my husband made me realize something I knew in some corner of my little brain. I have been discussing moving to Europe, quitting my job, moving to another job, moving to a bigger house, complaining all the time that I needed a change, some change. He pointed out, "You cannot run away from your child, all you can do is take a break. Go away for a month if you want, to get it together, we will be here waiting for you, but remember, no amount of vacation days and Europe trips will make your inner issues go away, you just have to learn to deal with it". While I really wanted to yell at him for being so insensitive, I knew he was right. I just cried, even more.
I am hoping tomorrow will make me stronger than today and all my yesterdays. I am hoping I find joy and learn to accept my decisions and my son even more. I hope even my worst enemies don't experience this sadness and resentment ever. I cried for all the friends I have lost, the relationships I haven't maintained, the joy I haven't been feeling around having a 10 year old, the meals I haven't been enjoying, the laughs I haven't been sharing. I hope I will be strong enough to reach out more, show my vulnerability more, make mistakes and apologize. In the process, I hope you know I value you, your friendship, our relationship and in turn I ask of you to just give me, my grief, my loneliness, my sadness, my embarrassment, my loss, my past, my present and my future some empathy, love and patience, without falsely re-assuring me, that it is okay!!
