Truth

There are times it is not easy to be on this journey. There are times when I would like to get off the train, take a hike into the woods, by myself. There are times when I can't find any Pollyanna-twist and the sun is not shining. 

There are times when I want to tell the truth about how I'm feeling and how hard things are but there are so few who get it. 

There are times when I have told people who hear my darkness and feel free to share the negativity they've been holding in and now feel they have permission to let out. They make my life sound like some horror movie from the 70's and I think, "Holy crap! Is THAT what you think?" And rather than getting to work through my own dark, I have to try to prove to them how much lighter it is than the darkness they're spewing.

There are times when I have told others who feel the need to MAKE me feel better without allowing me to work through the hard feelings I'm having. "Your life can't be that bad!" they seem to say, "I spent that time in college working with people with disabilities and I LOVED it!" And rather than being given permission to work through the hardness of life at the moment, I feel forced to fake the smile and the enthusiasm. 

But if the truth were told, there are times. 

There are times when I have had to chase my child down the street after he tries to "Go see Daddy" because Daddy is the ONLY one he wants and he is not afraid to tell me how much he does not like me. There are times when he starts to throw a major fit in the middle of the street. There are times when I have had to muscle him into our house because he will not calm down and will not choose to be safe. There are times when he throws valuable things down the stairs in his rage and I shut him in his room and we both sob on our own sides of the door. There are times when I ask God, "When is this supposed to get better?!" because I have been dealing with this new phase of absolute noncompliance and stubbornness and anger for months now and I feel done. There are times when he calms down enough to let me hold him and rock with him while he cries and cries for what seems like 10 hours straight. There are times when I cry and cry with him. There are times when I do not much like where my life is at and I can't see even a pinprick of light at the end of this seemingly never-ending tunnel. There are times when I feel envy climbing up my back like an invasive species. Envy for those whose kids are normal, who have no reason to see a doctor except for that sticker of approval, "This one's fine". Envy that there are people in the world who can plan spontaneous adventures with no thought of bathrooms or accessibility or timing or gear, all the gear. 

There are times when I feel guilty even posting this because what if that one expecting parent finds this post and decides it's all too much and they shouldn't have that baby. Oh, the pressure! To always be the advocate and the good mom and the one who has it all together! Well, tonight I do not. Tonight I am just willing to speak the truth of where I am and to cry some tears and to pray for the strength to get through one more day.