Yesterday, I walked out. I calmly got dressed, gathered some things together and walked out.
I am sick and tired of all of it. Sick of the children bickering, tired of them getting hurt doing stupid things. Sick of working till the early hours of the morning every night, tired of spinning so many plates all the time.
Sick of the toys everywhere, tired of the continual battle with clutter. Sick of living in five rooms, tired of not having a garden for my babies to play in. Sick of the autie meltdowns, tired of losing my little girl to this evil condition. Sick of feeling relieved when my children go to bed at night, tired of all the shouting, my shouting. When did I become one of those parents?
Sick and tired of feeling so, so tired. Sick and tired of all of it. But mostly of autism/SPD/ASD/HFA/Aspergers, whatever the hell this is.
I hate the way this thing has invaded our family.
I hate the moments it steals, the fun it ruins, the memories it invades.
I hate how it turns us against each other and drives us apart. I hate how we let it.
I hate the unpredictability, the way it changes from day to day.
I hate seeing my bright, happy, funny, clever little girl snatched away several times a day to be replaced with this evil, hurting, melting down monster.
I hate it. So I walked away.
But I’m Mummy, I’m their world.
I longed for their hands in mine, the feel of their warm bodies in my arms, their voices, their laughter, their sleeping faces next to me. Longed and longed for years before they were even born.
They are my world.
I’m the mama who labours without pain relief because how can such wonder hurt? I’m the mama who fights off midwives, health visitors, doctors who claim they know my body, my baby, my child better than me. I’m the mama who is sad that friends and family chose to walk away rather than accept our difference, but knows our choices and our children are worth all of it. I’m the mama who makes meals from nothing, who makes the mundane fun, who makes the imaginary real, and who stands by them and for them, whatever happens.
And autism/SPD/ASD/HFA/Aspergers, whatever the hell it is? I’ll fight it until I cope with it better, I’ll cope with it until I accept it, and I’ll love you fiercely through it all.
I’m the mama who takes your hand, meets your sad eyes and tells you to ignore the ignorant adults who comment loudly and mockingly on your behaviour in public. I’m the mama who holds you as you cry over yet another party you weren’t invited to. I’m the mama who tells you it’s their loss as we lose another new friend after they witness a major meltdown. I’m the mama who tells you every day that you are perfect, just as you are. Because you are.
I’m Mummy. Yesterday, I went home.