In nearly every situation with which I am confronted, my immediate internal response is one of childlike petulance, defiance, selfish, hot tears and ‘why me’.
I read PeaSoup’s confessions today and so much of it (ie #6 – #5 made me giggle) resonated with me and Oscar the sorrow was overwhelming. There have been so many occasions where I have had to step back and simply love my child. In particular:
And lo it was terribly scary and saddening but oh my giddy aunt everything fell into place and I learnt about triggers and I also stopped hating his behaviour and hating myself and thinking I had made my child this way.
Guilt for not being a better parent to him when he was at the outer edge of the â€˜normalâ€™ spectrum. Guilt for all those years of wanting him to be firmly within that â€˜normalâ€™ circle. Guilt for not finding the courage to accept him for who he was but always pushing him to be what I wanted him to be.
because I couldn’t say it any better than Suse did. And that while I too have been there with that guilt, I am still so in the very thick of it. That at the moment, while I love him so much it brings tears to my eyes as it is this instant, I don’t like him very much at the moment. He is older and we’re in the midst of a whole new behaviour shift. I have to adjust my parenting once more and as I said upfront, my instant reaction is one of “I don’t wanna”. That this is too hard, too isolating, ageing, emotionally draining, so deeply worrying in that “what will become of him” way that permeates my daily existence that sometimes I want ‘it’ (not Oscar, obviously – but another thing so hard to explain), to all go away, and instead be the person grieving a lost dead child than a lost living one. And the guilt, and the shame of it makes me recoil from myself.