Falling Down

A new school year is starting and I have been frantically trying to tie up loose ends before Cole’s IEP meeting next week. The school district has hired a private therapist to consult and help us develop interventions. We’ll call her Kelly for reasons of privacy. This is woman is nothing short of an angel, and I don’t even believe in that kind of thing.

 She managed to get the school district to pay for a private psychological assessment and got them to agree to hire him a “personal coach” at school. She will also train the teachers on what it means to have OCD, ADHD, and Autism. The coach will have a psychology background and be familiar with ABA (Applied Behavioral Analysis; the Gold Standard in treatment for Autism). She will also come to our home to work with Cole. See what I mean? This woman is as close to an angel as you can get in my book.

  She’s also a therapist and a good one. She had me pegged from day one and I find that unnerving. You see, I am used to being able to control situations and maintain control. You aren’t going to see me cry at IEP meetings, I research everything and present facts with detachment. It’s not that I don’t feel anything, because a lot of times I go home and cry so hard I puke. I just have a hell of a Poker Face. I can't function any other way. It's who I am.

 Kelly and I have had many phone conversations and meetings. I think it’s safe to say we are friends. She knows I have OCD and “issues”. I don’t keep that a secret. I think I’m doing pretty damn well though; considering there was a point in my life where I was literally in the Asylum. At our last meeting Kelly gently suggested that I needed therapy too. I was a little perturbed, it’s not like I was crying or losing it. We discussed Cole’s “case” professionally. That’s precisely the problem she says. I don’t deal with my emotions and I channel them into advocacy, projects, parenting, and anything else I can do to escape my own inner turmoil
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  That’s her theory anyway. Maybe it's a valid one. A lot of people are bothered by the fact that I don’t seem to have much of an emotional reaction to things that normally move people. I have had a lot of therapists try to get me to have a breakdown on their couch, because apparently that’s what “mentally healthy” people do. You’ve got to see me cry to know I am sad. Why is that??

   I am told I intellectualize things rather than just experiencing the feelings associated with events in my life. That’s fair. I do that. It makes me feel better. When my grandfather died, I didn’t really cry openly and I didn’t really discuss my feelings with people. I am not a Christian and so I felt a deep despair about the finality of his death. I went on a quest to find all the research on life after death and near death experiences. I had to find hope and comfort somewhere. I am sorry if I don’t get it from other people and their platitudes like “normal” people do. Does that sound bitter? I am not bitter; I just don’t find awkward hugs and empty words comforting. I wanted to reach out into the universe and find answers. I wanted to understand, because only understanding seemed to quell the pain inside of me.

  I feel like an alien. I really do. How am I supposed to feel or act? What is normal?


 I am tortured by the idea that children out there are not getting what they need from a broken system. One of them is my own child. You bet I am going to move hell and earth to make change. I can’t rest until I feel like I have done something. It isn’t a ploy to avoid dealing with my grief over Cole’s disability. In fact, I think I am a lot more like Cole than I am like the rest of you sometimes.

  Right now, I am emotionally raw. I feel as though I want go on an angry rampage, scream, cry, and run away from all this. My youngest son is showing signs of having some serious issues and I am up watching videos of him as a chubby baby playing happily and trying to make that image fit with the child who threatens to kill himself and punches me. I am gutted. I feel like a failure, I feel like I should be able to fix this. I am not strong enough to fight anymore. I am tired. I want to quit. I am overwhelmed and beaten down. It’s all there, I am a human being…

But, I will walk into the psychologist’s office tomorrow for Aiden’s assessment and I won’t let my emotions run the show. I won’t collapse, I won’t cry and I won’t quit.

I can’t.

 I start therapy next week...