I would be a liar if I didn' admit that I am a bit depressed.
Now, before anybody calls for an intervention, I am in no way depressed to the point where I sleep all day or dont get out of bed, etc. I don't want to hurt myself or anybody else. I don't want to drown my sorrows in booze and karoake bars. I don't want to drink Drano.
But....I'm down. I've got the blues, and I haven't managed to shake them yet.
You see, my youngest is struggling. Again. As you all know, he has ASD/SPD, and Endographism was just added to his list of diagnosises. Endographism is a skin disorder that causes your histamines to overreact when you scratch or rub your skin. Well, when a two and a half year old has sensory processing disorder, he scratches his skin incessantly, which causes more hives, which causes more itching, which causes more scratching, which causese more hives, which...
You get the picture.
So anyway, he was diagnosed with antihistamines, but what we weren't aware of is: The medication would act like CRACK in his system. He no longer sleeps. He wanders his room at night, and there are times when we find him passed out in his closet or on the floor under his brothers bed. Other times we realize that he is awake while we've been sleeping, which is scary to think about. The problem with him not sleeping is: when he doesn't sleep, his ASD/SPD symptoms get worse. So it's like we're living this big, giant catch 22. He doesn't sleep, so his symptoms get worse and he scratches more, which causes hives, which causese more discomfort, which causes sleepless nights, which causes....
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
All I want is a comfortable, happy child. There is nothing worse in the world than watching your child suffer. Every day is a new experience in the "How much can this mother take?" game. There are days when his discomfort is so obvious, it is all I can do to hold it together. Then he'll have a great day and I think..."oh, everything is going to be fine. What's the big deal?"
And then another day comes along...and he is bouncing off of the walls, and unable to relax, and scratching himself, and uncommunicative, and the list goes on and on and on....and I look at him and wonder if he will wind up living with us for the rest of his life. We go places and he is blatantly not like the other kids, sometimes people stare. He can't communicate very well. He has outbursts and breakdowns. He claws at himself until he bleeds. And frankly put, it depresses me.
I want him to be healthy. I want him to be functional. I want him to be happy.
I feel like our life is unrecognizable. Like it's new life that bears just a vague resemblance to our old one. I miss my old life. I am envious of lives that seem to be easier than ours right now. I am over being reminded that things could be worse. Have you ever noticed that the people saying they could be worse are usually the people who DON'T have a clue what it is like to have a child with these problems in their family?? Am I the only person bothered by this?? I mean, sure...he's alive. And we thank God for that every day, but he's MISERABLE. And it's heart breaking!
I miss our old life. I want to recognize my life again.
Brooke Moss.
