Just Breathe

Sometimes it's hard to remember that screaming isn't the only song on the soundtrack to my life. Sometimes it's hard to remember that there are good moments, really good moments. Not because there aren't as many but because the bad moments seem to make more of an impact. You don't remember the hug as much as you remember being spit at. You don't remember the goofy grin as much as the glare paired with the words, "I don't love you ever." For some reason those words, those looks are the things that burrow up into my brain and set up camp.

I am working on enjoying the little things more, but it is tough to remember sometimes. These children love me and I love them. Sometimes, I just wish I could pull my head out of my ass and stop feeling guilty and overwhelmed enough to show them.

The Mother of All Meltdowns

That's what I had today.

I just lost it and I feel awful. My youngest daughter, I'll call her Little Hurricane, is 4 and was just diagnosed with PDD-NOS but I was told (by the therapist she sees all the time) that she more than likely has Asperger's Syndrome and her diagnosis will probably change to that as she gets older.

My husband is being an insensitive ass. I don't know if he is in denial or what, but it's getting old. He works hard for us, I know this. But I take Little Hurricane to therapy, I am the one that deals with her day in and day out. Meltdowns, hitting, spitting, kicking, telling me that she doesn't love me and never will etc. I am at the end of my freaking rope!

In the last couple of days we have gotten an official diagnosis, my dog has been a total asshole in general and jumped through the screen on our door (wrecking the entire thing), my walls were written on by Little Hurricane while I gave my husband a haircut less than 10 ft away, sneaky little fox (mural sized, not little scribbles), I had someone suggest that I "need therapy" when I told them I really was doing pretty good, and I was told that I am too hard on my older daughter and I need to let her know that I love her more often. (IDK what I am too hard on her about and I tell my kids about a million times a day that I love them). AAAAAARRRRGGHHHHH!!!

So, after an HOUR of just trying to get the kids to put on shoes and go potty so I could take them grocery shopping ALONE (I'd rather jab my eye out with a spoon), I totally freaked out. I went into my room and cried for 45 minutes.

This sucks. I don't want my daughter to struggle. I just want her to have an easy life. Seriously, is it too much to ask for? I know it could be worse, she's not dying, she's just wired different, but I have NO ONE in real life that even understands or is dealing with this kind of crap.

Almost every person that I have told about her diagnosis has asked

1. Won't she just grow out of it?

2. Can "they" cure it?

3. I think you just need to discipline her more.

I feel like one more stupid comment and I will start punching people in the suckhole.

I'm not normally this sad and pathetic, but the diagnosis was harder to swallow than I thought it would be even though I knew it was coming.

End rant.

To be continued...