Hey, Mom. How are you? Almost two years since I reached out to you. I’ve had a lot of pain over the last few years, and 2023 did not turn out to be the recovery year I wanted it to be. But I’m turning a corner now. I’m getting better. I posted the following to the Autism group on Reddit to find the empathy I thought I had from someone whose friendship meant so much to me. I’m better now (therapy, clarity, and self-love can do that), but I’m not completely healed. One day I will be. But life hasn’t been extremely kind to me the last few years. Here’s the note I mentioned.
Hi. I didn’t really want to post here, but I don’t know what to do. My story is long and probably not as trying as some people’s story, but I feel like giving up. Sorry for the TL;DR post, but it’s my full story.
I have one daughter, a 10 year old who was diagnosed ASD at 2. It has been a trying 10 years just because of that. She still throws toddler tantrums, she rips her shirt, she pees her pants, she screams, basically she terrorizes us to get whatever she wants. And if the word “no” is used, be prepared for the fight.
It wouldn’t be so bad…if my husband hadn’t been diagnosed with Parkinson’s 5 years ago.
It wouldn’t be so bad…if I hadn’t lost my mom (who was also my best friend) to COVID in 2021.
It wouldn’t be so bad…if my daughter hadn’t had a stroke in 2022 that had us in the hospital for 6 weeks that year while she recovered and then had brain surgery.
It wouldn’t be so bad…if someone at the job I loved hadn’t befriended me by having real empathy (a wife with a chronic condition and a kid with special needs) and then lured me onto his team only to watch me crash and burn in 2023 and then completely ghost me when I tried to talk to him about it.
But it is so bad. Every day, I cry. Every day, I hope for an end to the pain. Every day, I wake up for someone else wishing I would just never wake up at all.
I could get therapy. My last therapist refused to come to our sessions offering excuses. Nothing makes you feel more worthless than realizing the person you’re paying doesn’t think your problems are worth showing up for.
So, I’m here. My last resort. Because I don’t know what to do.
I miss you, Mom. You would have helped me through all these trials. So I’m still talking to you, hoping I find the help from you. Hoping that I’ll have your strength. Hoping I’ll develop that callus to just shrug off the pain. I haven’t yet. But maybe one day.
Hey, Mom! How are you? 