Jsack's Mom's Blog

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

#Mondaymusings-Lets talk about mental health on #Bellletstalkday

 
I have a story to share I always have. I have a big heart and a big vocabulary and I’m always up for a honest, open discussion. Yet the one thing that always silenced me was my depression. To speak of it meant a horrible feeling of shame that washed over me. I have struggled with the stigma of it since I was very young. I was four years old when my parents separated and with that brought an immense sadness. 

I had no control of it but I was glad to see the fighting stop in my daily life. There were still tears, prayers, and long heart to heart talks but the hurtful words thrown about so carelessly were gone. My Dad took on another life and family and my Mom was forced to make a life as a single parent to two little girls who needed her. She struggled with mental health too, sleeping at odd hours of the day, angry outbursts, tear filled days and nights as her heart was broken over her failed marriage. 

I saw it all, heard the stories, and did my best to comfort her. Being empathic I could feel every emotion and it was like a double edge sword living with this pain. I was so young and impressionable and yet I was growing wise to the ways of the world. I grew up like any other typical kid living in this  existence as I fought with the sadness and anger that would overtake my heart. The world was too loud, confusing, chaotic, and busy. I didn’t know how to cope so I turned to prayer, songs, and my faithful books. 

I grew into a sullen teenager and battled with anyone who would talk to me. My poor Mom didn’t know what to do and so we attended family therapy. I soon started having nightmares as triggers from my childhood came back to haunt me. I would go days on end not sleeping which means my Mom did do. I was finally diagnosed with clinical Depression and Insomnia 

I refused medication as I had such a fear of being drugged into what I call the “Ritalin generation.” It seemed like any child who couldn’t sit still, thought outside the box, and expressed a volatile opinion was put on the token drug of choice. I wasn’t going to be a statistic so I chose to take a more natural route. 

My Mom supported me with this as I changed my nutrition plan, got more exercise, and took Valerian and other herbs for my lack of sleeping pattern. It was a dark and confusing time in my life and I coped with it the best I could. I soon matured into an adult and had years of journals that commemorates that confusing chaotic time in my life. As I grew older graduated and attended college my mental health issues came back full force. The stress of deadlines, securing a student loan to attend school, and maintain a relationship took it’s toll. At the age of twenty I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

I also experienced a lot of death in my life losing both my Grandparents, parents, and my step sister all before I was the age of forty. I suffered with Post Partum Depression which I had with both of my babies and it was dark, devastating tunnel of grief and despair. What I hadn’t know that it was being overshadowed by Sensory Processing Disorder. I would come to know that when I took the journey with my children to a diagnosis.  Who both have two types of SPD, (also known formerly as Sensory Integration and Sensory Dysfunction Disorder) Sensory Defensive Disorder which means avoiding all sensory input to the central nervous system and  Sensory Modulation Disorder which is the opposite, it’s the seeking out of all sensory input to the central nervous system. 

 

Clara Hughes

 
I’ve learned a lot as a Mom to children with complex needs and I’m now referred to as a walking medical dictionary by my therapist. I’ve come to know from my experience that being a special needs parent is not for the faint at heart. We’re all struggling in our ways with parenting, making our marriages a priority, and trying to carve out some me time. Some of us struggle, swear, drink, and eat too much. I believe others do too they just hide it better. I still have another leg of my journey to take with my children as more letters of the alphabet are discovered with each diagnostic test and assessment. Since I’ve introduced therapy with a psychologist, a psychiatrist, occupational, physical therapists,  and speech and language pathologist their future is looking brighter with early intervention. 

 

Clara Hughes speaking candidly about her mental health

 
I advocate strongly on their behalf and my own and I share this glimpse into our lives for #Bellletstalkday. This is a mental health initiative in my country Canada and for every talk, text, tweet, and share Bell will donate five cents to Canadian Mental Health. Last year the campaign raised over $500,000 and I had the fortunate experience of meeting one of the spokespersons former two time Olympian Clara Hughes. 

Please share, talk, text, and tweet the hashtag #Bellletstalkday to erase the stigma of mental health and bring it into the spotlight than having it shrouded in darkness and fear. One random act of kindness can do so much to help others like one ripple across the water that can create a wave of understanding. 

It’s time for #Mondaymusings and all you have to do is this list of things. 


Write a post sharing your thoughts with us – happy, sad, philosophical, ‘silly’ even. Make it as personal as possible.


Use the hashtag #MondayMusings and link to this post.


Add your link to the linky which you will find either here and on the post of a co-host. Today’s co-hosts are Everyday Gyaan and Living My Imperfect Life

Use our #MondayMusings badge to help other bloggers join in too.


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Monday Musings Worry

Waiting for days on end for news that I’m praying will be positive instead of negative. I watch my son’s behaviour to indicate if he’s having seizures and I’m missing out on documenting them. My mind can go in a thousand different directions without hearing any results for a month. And trust me it has, is this how my life is supposed to be in constant worry for his health? 

I never knew when I rubbed my belly at eight months protecting him from the news of my Mom’s death that I would be in this state of mind now. I never knew with him arriving at thirty-six weeks we would encounter all these medical issues. I wasn’t prepared for my one and only Mom’s death, nor ready to to give birth prematurely. 

I went home from the hospital reeling with grief while my baby had to stay behind in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive care unit) I had a four year old son and a husband that needed me and I felt so torn. All I wanted was my Mom to hold me and tell me everything would be alright. But I didn’t have her then and I don’t have her now. 

Being a special needs parent feels a lot like venturing out on a lonely road to find my happy, peaceful place in my mind and body. A lot of the time reading and researching helps so I know how to approach Dr’s and specialists with my questions. What is the reason that my son’s Global Developmentally Delayed, why does he struggle so much with basic concepts of visual spatial relations and verbal fluency with his conversational speech? 

Why does he suffer with anxiety, OCD, and possibly ADHD behaviours?  I’m told he was born early so he would be delayed to reach his developmental milestones. Which is half true he sat up and crawled later then his peers, but walked early and ran laps around me by the time he was fifteen months. Yet there are challenges, his speech was delayed, he had a high threshold to pain, but a weaker immune system and was sickly as a baby. 

Life has turned into a system of checks and balances he’s been tested for genetic disorders, allergies, and I’ve completed many developmental questionnaires. To date he’s had a polysonogram and an EEG that will be followed by an MRI and surgery to help improve his severe Obstructive Sleep Apnea Disgnosis. He has a wonderful therapy team that is helping him succeed so I question myself what do I have to worry about? 

I worry for his future will he hold down a job, graduate and go to college, meet someone special and fall in love? What will it be like when he does and he gets his heart broken? How will he cope with his anxiety, how will I? Will he still be living with us or in assisted living? I pray he will be continue to be his own success story as I cheer every accomplishment he makes. The latest is remembering words to the Christmas carols he practiced in preschool. As well as being able to sing Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes while performing the actions. 

When we would sing that song before he’d get so confused and start yelling and putting his hands over his ears to block out all the excess information flooding his brain. I had to explain to his preschool teachers that the song irritated and I think even scared him. It broke my heart to see his reaction so after three months of therapy he can sing the song with a smile on his face. Then I think you don’t have anything to worry about he’ll be fine. I’ve heard this from well meaning people in my life and I always say he will be with the proper early intervention in his life. 

The call I’ve been waiting for finally came in today after waiting for thirty long days! The results were great there’s no seizure activity but his brain will need to be assessed at his MRI. So I arm myself with Teflon encased around my heart, cover myself in prayer and I realize I’m not emotion or bullet proof but I have God and a wonderful support network on my team. I will help my son get through this with love, acceptance, and prayer. I’m a warrior, and I love homand I may get knocked down with worry but I will always get back up ready to fight. 

It’s time for #Mondaymusings and all you have to do is this list of things. 

Write a post sharing your thoughts with us – happy, sad, philosophical, ‘silly’ even. Make it as personal as possible.
Use the hashtag #MondayMusings and link to this post.
Add your link to the linky which you will find either here and on the post of a co-host.
Use our #MondayMusings badge to help other bloggers join in too. Write Tribe is going through some maintenance so it will be hosted at a different website for a few weeks. 
Today’s Monday Musings is co-hosted by Crazy Little Family Adventure and Everyday Gyann please check out their posts and all the other talent that link up. 

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Writer’s Quotes Wednesday

My submission to Writer’s Quotes Wednesday touches me deeply with my struggle of sinking or swimming through another tidal wave of grief and disillusionment. I pray that I will persevere by the grace of God as I’m no stranger to this pain. ❤️

 

6 Comments »

#Monday Musings and my Mindful thoughts

I have so much I want to say, write, and express. Sometimes I feel like there’s not enough hours in the day to get it all out! The words spoken or written come out in a humble jumble and I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally I can focus on something that needs my attention like my overflowing laundry baskets, neglected emails, and that ugly bath tub ring staring at me. 

I get consumed sometimes like there will be there be enough hours in the day to purge myself of these thoughts that hold me captive. Will there be enough lyrics in a song, enough stanzas in a poem, will my insatiable thirst for knowledge ever be quenched as I spend my late night owl hours researching neurology? 

Will I allow myself to rest or will the anxiety monster that lives inside me roar up and raise its ugly head yelling at me never shall you sleep with ease while I’m in charge! What is it about this desire, drive, curiousity, and deep seated need that feels like home to me? It’s all I’ve ever known so is it possible to be something or someone else who isn’t acting on the impulse of that steady thrumming in my head and heart?  

To be all I can be, when I can, as much as I can before it’s too late! And why will it ever be too late when will the worry jagged lines carved into my brain cease to exist? I really can’t answer that to worry feels like breathing to me. I can get on a good righteous path and do really well with controlling it for awhile. Then something always happens and sends me into a tailspin watching, waiting, and questioning my anxiety fueled fears. 

Gripping me in it’s vise grip hold choking the pure joy out of me and drowning me in sadness and worry. I want to break free and live that life I dream of on the overside of the coin, than overdose in this blanket of fear. I cry out in pain, praying for God to release me from this torment of my mind! My life has never been an easy one like anyone else on this spinning orb we call earth I grew up in dysfunction. 

I was loved it was just the people who loved me grew out of love for each other. Or maybe there was a deep rooted love there but no respect. I spent my childhood days wanting that picture perfect family I saw shining in all its Hollywood glory on Happy Days. Even the Fonz in his cool leather jacket, and rebellious ways was Arthur to the Cunninghams and was loved and found worthy.

Why did I need this so much I was only four when my parents separated? I worried so much with my religious background, that they would end up in purgatory for their sins. I wanted desperately to solve the problems of the adults around me and everything to go back to what I considered normal. That word always left me feeling so inadequate because I never felt like I could live up to its expectations. 

Normal is really just a figment in my mind. My Mom always told me I was born to stand out and to never let anyone tell me my star couldn’t shine. She had such a lovely positive spirit and a way with words spoken, written, or sung. Losing her was my normal first to dementia, and next to death. When both felt like my heart was being ripped from my body! 

There are days when I just don’t want to worry anymore. How I just want to see my beloved Mama again and collaspe into tears in her lap; where she strokes my hair and tells me this too shall pass. But she’s not there and sometimes it’s only a Mom’s hug that can heal the wounds of your heart. 

An emotional roller coaster on the anxiety highway is my reality. When it gets too much I turn off the world and unplug and slip into my sensory pleasure of music. Singing with all my being so loud that even heaven could hear me. Those are the times I feel closer to my version of normal and as my heart soars and my spirits sings, getting me one step closer to God and freedom and to her voice and love. 

Today I’m linking up with #Mondaymusings hosted by Corinne at Everyday Gyyan and co-hosted by Reflections. I thank them for this opportunity to link up and express myself to a new audience. 😊

 

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Situation 

I’ve always been an honest person, I speak my mind, and do my best to not judge a book by its cover. I’m human so it happens from time to time, but here’s the situation I judge myself very harshly. I don’t know where it comes from but the second guessing myself gets exhausting. 

You know what the worst part is? Passing all the angst and anxiety onto my children. I watched it happen in my own childhood as the adults around me transferred their stress onto me. I didn’t blame anyone though, I just believed they were victims of victims and of life. A profound outlook for a five year old to have. I learned at a young age we create our circumstances through our thoughts, and these become our situations. 

If I want to create something happy and fulfilling I just need to think positive. I can bring what I desire to me by thinking about it. It’s proven in the laws of attraction you get what you expect. The energy that we put into repelling our good fortune is equal to what we gain, by accepting and appreciating the very best life can offer. You can try and find another way around it, by disbelief, ignorance, or denial it still is the same result, you reap what you sow.  

So I ask myself as I worry and wring my hands with anxiousness, how do I get myself out of this situation I created? How can I stop it from affecting my children. I can think positive, feel happy, and secure and believe that no matter what happens God will take care of me and my family. I do believe that’s true, yet there’s still a shred of anxiety flickering on and off like a light switch.

 There are days I feel so happy and I celebrate that joyfully. These are the days where I just trust that everything is going to work out fine. This is after I’ve spent time in prayer and meditation. I always need to have a plan B, it’s a no brainer with sensory children. Lately I’ve felt I’ve just been getting by on a wing and a prayer. 

Last weekend was different though I took chances, felt happy, and stuck my plan B in my pocket for safe keeping. I went to dinner with a new couple I had met through a group online. Which was a brave and beautiful thing because the lovely lady and I had been corresponding, but we were a mystery to each other till last week. We had our big reveal where I signed a card with my name. We made plans and after dinner we attended a carnival, went geocaching, and ended the night with an ice cream treat. 

I was elated we all hit it off and are already planning our next get together. I wasn’t anxious,  I was estatic and from someone who is constantly watching, worrying, and waiting this was like an epiphany! I have always said have faith, trust in God, and the universe to give you what you need. I do believe in all of that, but there’s always been that sneaking fear, doubt, and anxious vibration that didn’t allow that belief to seep into my cerebal cortex. 

Now I know more than ever I have to hold onto to this profound way of thinking. I owe it to my myself and my family to believe once and for all, that I got this and we’re going to be fine. Every day I spend worrying is another day taken away from living, loving, and appreciating my children. Every moment I spend wrapped up in doubt takes me further away from who I am and who I’m meant to be. Every minute I let fear take over and win makes me die a little more inside. If I live and exist with doubt I’m not honoring my true, authentic self. 

 It’s not easy to be anxious internally yet project confidence on the outside. I’ve been doing it for years and I always write more about my feelings than sharing my personal struggles. People are busy in life and the only one I expect to hold my hand through all of this is my husband. So here’s to closing this chapter in my book of life that doesn’t serve me well. And onwards and upwards to writing a whole new book about me being anxiety free!

  

This has been my Sunday confession with the amazing More Than Cheese and Beer. Please check out her anonymous confessions on her Facebook page, as well as the talented bloggers who linked up. Thank you. 😘

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#1000 Speak Compassion-nurturing 

 At this moment in time I could use some nurturing. My heart has suffered from being judged, my body from pushing it to the limit of injury, my soul from putting myself last on the list of life’s priorities. It’s been my own doing, I put myself out there and recieved ridicule and embarrassment. I allowed it to hurt my heart and make me feel cheap, dirty, and ashamed. There is a thing about being too honest especially on social media.

I started a new workout routine as I’ve been living with chronic pain for the last five years. And slowly it’s grinding away at all the wonderful things I’ve accomplished over that time. The nurturing place where I housed my children and now my back is full of white hot pain if I do too much. Lifting my child who is showing all the signs of a sensory meltdown as he runs through a parking lot. Carrying him to bed after he’s so wound up from seeking sensory input all day he crashes in my arms on the couch.

Picking him up and cradling him like my little Joey and I’m his kangaroo Mama keeping him safe from a world that’s too loud, busy, bright, and at the same time beautiful in it’s simplicities and complexities. I exercise to keep myself fit, healthy, and fabulous. I started a new workout routine and matched the instructor for move for move. No matter how fast or extreme it would be in the long run. What the end result was an aggravated old back injury from a bulging disk, and not being able to walk properly for three days!!! What was I thinking I asked myself as I had to hobble around with a cane and parent from my couch?!

I wasn’t thinking about my age that’s for sure. I was thinking of who I was before when I was the fitness instructor with seventeen years experience. Who gave those intense workouts and also participated in them. It’s been a humbling experience as I recently started a fitness challenge and I’m on the sidelines cheering everybody on. I have an invitation to start a free one week bootcamp in my town. I look at each day mocking me and my lack of flexibility. How is it possible after ten years of teaching I could become so inflexible? Easy enough I allowed my mind to become that way being a right fighter, and my body became rigid and immobile.

I need to nurture that part of my myself that makes me feel whole again. I write, read, whine onto my digital paper and drink copious amounts of wine to dull my pain. Who knows of this push and pull existence that I put myself through time and  time again. It’s you my dear readers who have followed along with me on my journey through heartache, grief, self loathing, and sometimes redemption. I lay myself bare and venture out into the world when it seems to be less cold, hard, and judgemental. This is my life as a Mom with children with special needs.

You can’t see my son’s conditions but if you push them to the limit they’ll bleed through with their reactions to noise, over stimulus, and disapproving stares. One has a disorder called Sensory Avoidance. I refer to it as his needs are like a bucket of water and everyone puts in a cup throughout his day. When he’s home from school his sensory bucket is overflowing. and he needs to empty it out and self tegilate with calm and quiet time. I give him this time to decompress as I know it’s essential to his psyche and mental health!


My other son has the opposite disorder he is a seeker of sensory input and it’s referred to as Sensory Modulation. His condition I refer to as having an empty bucket that he fills with cups of water all day long with every interaction, noise, and stimulus. Each time his bucket is almost full he dumps it out and has to start all over again. So this is the push and pull of my son’s existence. One wants to avoid all contact until he’s regulated and able to fill up his bucket. The other is constantly dumping it out and finding new ways to fill it!

They both empty my patience bucket on a regular basis, and I need to fill it back up again with things that help. Like quiet time to myself, being able to read, write, soak in a bubble bath until  enveloped in the softeness and luxury. Closing my bedroom door each night and cuddling into my love my husband, my soft place to fall. He holds me and nurtures me and my hearts love bucket is full of self worth, respect, consciousness, and unconditional love. And I’m refreshed and restored and able to face another day. Whether it’s full of fighting, auditory hyper sensitives, food texture issues, sensory seeking, or sensory avoiding.

We all need to be loved, respected, accepted, loved, and nurtured. Please take that time to give your body, mind, and soul are crying out for. Don’t be like me who pushes and pulls into the core of my existence till my broken, weary, sleep deprived shell of a human body can’t take it anymore. Find those ties that bind you to the ones you love, absorb their love and strength, full that love bucket, and be more than, better than, stronger than the pain that threatens to grind you down. Love, nuture, take the steps to self care, and truly cherish that reflection that stares back at you from the mirror of your life.

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Open 

Trigger alert: If you’re suffering from any mental health issues pertaining to cutting or suicide. Proceed to read with caution. I discuss both in text openly. 

My life is an open book I’ve acted like I’ve had together but I really don’t. I’ve found out it takes a village to raise a child. And how lonely life can be when you don’t have a village. I’ve been open about not feeling like an adequate parent, good wife, or being a lousy friend. I have retreated into my world of words and writing, and have tried to make sense of the chaos before me. I’ve advocated for mine and my children’s mental health and have been told to hurry up and wait. Last week after an epic blow up between my oldest son and I, I put all my fears aside and phoned the mental office office. I was told to come down between the hours of 11 am to 3 pm and someone would have a meet and greet with me. 

This is how mental health is dealt with in my province. You’re set up to meet with someone who greets you and sees if you meet the criteria for obtaining services. So I went down there last Friday only to be told the Doctors aren’t seeing anymore walk ins today. That’s the worst lunch bag let down for the week. After talking my son into agreeing he does need help I leave empty handed. Today after battling with him to get up and go to school he decides not to go. I can’t deal with it after being up late myself with his brother having nightmares. I go back to bed, only to be woken up and blamed by my oldest for not going to school.

 I tell him just go eat and get dressed you’ll only be a little late. Then the fight begins that I failed him yet again, and he’s not walking into school late! I get a much anticipated call from my respite worker and I end up telling her everything that I didn’t get to tell her yesterday, with both of my children being home. My Captain (my oldest son, if you’re new to my blog) has been off for a week of school. This has been due to a teachers convention and after eight days of constant battling I NEED A BREAK. Yesterday I drive around in a new neighbourhood looking for a birthday party he was supposed to attend. I couldn’t find the location and my GPS was zero help.

 So I only had respite for a short amount of time as I had my youngest at home. I came home feeling defeated and tried to throw myself into busy ness of housekeeping so as to not start yet another arguement. There’s always something brewing on the horizon and then it came time to get ready for hockey practice. I asked my Captain to get his gear ready, while I quietly and quickly got his brother and I ready to go. We were set to leave when the comments started we’re going to be late, I wish Dad was here, I don’t want to go to hockey. I’ve been walking the thin parenting line between crazy and sane and I blew up and said get out and get your gear in the truck. He refused so I threw his bag on the lawn. Then I proceed to chase my youngest son down the block as he just wants to run away from all the noise. In the midst of my incessant parenting tantrum I lose my keys so I’m frantically looking for them.  

I find my back up set but it doesn’t allow me to lock my door with the key. Useless I know but key fobs are expensive to replace. So my crazy train is loaded up and we arrive at practice. Yes we’re five minutes late, and I just want to run away and hide somewhere. On the way home after practice I encounter a near accident as a racing truck passes five vehicles and is on coming into my lane!  I’ve got my music cranked and I’m singing Paradise by the Dashboard light. When the part of the song sung by the female lead Patti Russo comes on and says Stop right there, a voice inside my head screams the same. So I slow down and head towards the ditch just in time to see this truck fly past me and into the other lane. 

I’m literally shaking as I get home and start preparing dinner for my kids. I listen to them outside chatting while they gaze at the stars. Soon it’s bedtime and I settle in trying to process my day.  Thinking about everything crammed in my brain, it took me a long time to stop shaking and fall asleep last night. Hearing the alarm go off at 7 am after maybe four hours of sleep is like a jackhammer in my head. This morning when my son refused to go to school I said fine you don’t go to school then you go talk to a therapist. I arrive at the office only to be told they are full with walk ins. I don’t take this well at all, I complain you told me this last week and now you just opened up and your full? I have and will always be the squeaky wheel who gets the grease so I continue to triade. The receptionist sees I’m not leaving so she phones the office down the hallway to let them know I’m there.  

I walk over there with my shrieking sensory child who just wants to go home and explain I want to see someone. I’m once again told I can’t and to come back tomorrow. Well the quickest way to ignite the Irish fire inside of me is to tell me I can’t do something. This is unacceptable for urgent care should I be a cutter or slit my wrists would that get me seen faster? That line of questioning and behaviour got me seen faster than taking no for an answer. I have a therapist come to meet me who says I have a few minutes of her time. So I proceed to get my kids in the office while they play with Lego. So I tell her the quickest way to get help is to act crazy. She appears taken back at my honesty, so I spew on and say I’m an open book what do you want to know? I introduce her to my kids and proceed to tell her of the life we’re living.

 I’m told I’ve come to the right place, I’m very well versed, and educated. In another time and place had I known if I’d be walking this path to mental health, I would’ve studied to be an neurologist. Anything to do with the brain fascinates me, neurological disorders, psychiatric illness, all the labels and letters associated with mental illness.  I research about them all and I just want to know more. Being educated, articulate, well versed, helps me as an advocate for mine and my children’s mental health helps everyone. Now I walk a different journey to allowing this help to transform my family. From chaos to calm, from anger to happiness, from power struggles to peace. I’ve found the quickest way to get help is to stop acting like I have it altogether. So why do I tell you all this today? Well it’s simple I live my life like a open book, I can’t hide away from it anymore welcome to my book of life. Today I start to write a new chapter of hope, help, and resolution. I really think my guardian angel drinks if I was her I would too. Cheers to you Mom and thank you for saving our lives. ❤️

This has been my submission to Ash’s Sunday Confessions on http://www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Please check out her story, the anonymous confessions, and all the other talent who link up. Thank you for following along on my journey. 💓

Today I’m linking up with http://silverliningmama.com for her conquer challenge for the month of February. 

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Pull

I find I’m struggling with myself lately. I’m feeling this pull to my past. Where I felt really happy I had a great group of friends I saw daily. I didn’t feel lonely or shut in like I do now. I had my respite worker recently say I needed people. I know she was right, but that didn’t make me like less of a loser. I feel so pulled to my old life where I knew who I could call, count on, and have my back. Now I try to navigate a new town and new people feeling so unsure of myself. I’ve never had trouble making friends but I don’t know this time around I do.

I need to pull myself up by the bootstraps and just keep trying. Having children with special needs doesn’t always open the door to having friendships. I’m afraid of taking my son to a playgroup and he reacts to too much noise and stimulus. Or if he’s sensory seeking and he gets to aggressive with another child. The times I’ve gone I’ve sat on the edge of my seat drinking my tea, and waiting and watching. I find the pull of my friendships and lamenting that I haven’t found a group. I have a few friends and they lead very busy lives.

So I connect with them when it works with their schedules. I don’t complain, I don’t demand, but I do cry silently at night when everyone else is asleep. With that pull from my heart I have to decide if I’m going to stay stuck in my past, or push myself forward with my future. I’ve been attending a support group and its been helping. I’m hoping to connect and get to know some parents there as we walk the same path with our children. I find more and more each day I have to resist that pull and push myself towards my future.

With that push I’m hoping to gain some more confidence in myself. I have a dilemma with my online life colliding with my reality. Online I’m admired, respected, appreciated, and yes even loved. I’m told I’m beautiful, brilliant, talented, and yes even funny. In my reality I struggle with being social. I have children with special needs. I have to keep them calm, regulated, and comfortable in their surroundings. If I don’t there’s hell to pay. Not to many know my struggles. And honestly I don’t ask for pity just a kind word, an invitation, a smile or a hug.

I don’t ask to impose on people’s lives but maybe just maybe I shouldn’t have blogged about this. Because honestly reading it back makes me sound quite pathetic. I have hid in my online world that makes me feel whole. Today I chose to be brave and put it out here because this is, what is is. My online world meeting my reality, the whole ugly, beautiful, poignant truth of it. Written by me a lonely, heartbroken soul just looking for a friend to understand. I have to pull myself out of my self imposed depression. I’m starting with baby steps and going to attend a playgroup geared towards children with special needs.

I’ve been in denial that it’s what my son needed but no Mom is an island. And the potty training blues have gotten me down and I’ve been stuck inside the house for too long. So time to pull up my big girl sexy panties and get this social thing on the go. No one is an island we all need inhabitants to create some sort of bond, a family.

This has been my submission to Ash’s Sunday confession from http://www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Check out her brilliance, anonymous confessions, and all the other talent that link up. Thank you for reading my blog today.

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One Liner Wednesday

In honour of Bell Lets Talk day I will share an inspirational quote from my favourite messenger for mental health awareness. Former Olympic athlete Clara Hughes

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This has been my submission to http://Lindaghill.com. Please check out her one liner and all the other talent who link up. Thank you. 😊

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Able

I’m an able minded and able bodied person. I have abilities to problem solve and work out solutions. When I was in the workforce it was one of my greatest assets. I love to be thorough and research and I always have some kind of project going on. I’m very good behind the scenes about getting things done. What people don’t see behind this able bodied exterior, is the massive complex of anxiety I have. I tend to over think, over analyze, and work myself into a panic attack. My goal for this year was to feel the fear and do it anyway. So that’s what I’ve been doing, I’ve taken my kids on new adventures this summer with that “can do” attitude and even amazed myself. To most this might not sound or read like its a big deal, but to me it’s like climbing Mount Everest!!! I’m proud of these accomplishments, and glad that I could show my son’s that I can overcome this anxiety, I call the dragon within. I’ve always had that motto in life “to fake it, till I make it!” There are times when I’m literally shaking in my boots, but I stand tall and appear stoic. My beloved Mama always used to say be scared but never show it. And she was the bravest woman I’ve ever known. Married at 22, became a Mom at 23, then followed by 3 more children in quick succession. My dear Dad was a logger and he worked in some interesting places. So there was my Mom carving out a home life while living in these camps, in a little trailer in the woods. Four little children, no friends, no family, and my Dad working 16 + hour days. My Mom taught me what it was to be capable and able. My Dad taught me what it was to have strength, work ethic, and values. They both taught me to be able, to find my passion, to keep my head on my shoulders, and my feet on the ground. Together they created 6 able bodied and able minded children that have all had or trials and tribulations in life. We have made it out life’s goal to honour our living parents memory, and pass those values onto our own children. My parents came from very strong and able roots. My Grandparents on both sides of my family survived the Depression, World War 2, and many hardships with my Mom’s Dad away at war. I don’t have a choice but to be strong and able. Over the last week I’ve been meditating with Deepak and Oprah and learning about the energy of attraction. Each day I spend some quiet time learning how to start manifesting the life I want. Today’s lesson was about focusing on my deepest desires. I thought about the things I’m passionate about, that bring me joy, and thought all I want is to feel complete. And then I read this affirmation,

my deepest desire is for completeness.

“In the desire of the One to know Himself, we exist.” — Rumi

So here I am perfectly imperfect and working on having my inner self match my outer self. In each way, every day I’m getting better, better, and better, and more able to rise up and conquer my fears.

This is my Sunday confession brought to you by Ash at http://www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Check out her confession and all the fabulous talent that link up. Thank you so much. 😘

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*Image used with permission from http://www.sharingwithshari.com

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