Sunday, March 11, 2012

Platitudes ... A Venomous Vent (aka welcome to my pity party)

I have three phrases that I use to get through my days:

1. There but for the grace of God, go I.
2. That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger. (But it still sucks ass.)
3. This too shall pass.

They are my personal mantra, if you will - how I survive the worst of times - my platitudes to make things more bearable. I can live with these platitudes. The first is easy to understand, because honestly - as bad as my life gets, someone always has it worse. The second - its plain truth. If you can keep moving, you're alive, even if you don't want to be. And the third - another easy one to understand. It can only get so bad before something breaks and things improve. These are truths I can live with. What can't I live with?

People who say "He's so lucky to have you as a mother" or "God knew what he was doing when He made you his mother." What?? They're fucking kidding, right?

First off, growing up I said I was never going to get married or have kids. In fact, I told people that if I ever did get married, it would be in a black gown because it would be my funeral. (Guess I should have listened to myself.) My goal in life? To be free to do what I wanted. To not have to answer to anybody. Ever. I don't like responsibility. I have very little patience. I'm easily frustrated. I hate dealing with other people's issues (be it a cold or a case of the whinys). And I suffer from fairly profound depression, not to mention social anxiety. My depression has run the gamut from mild "life sucks and then you die" to "drive your car into a tree right now and get it over with already". I read the fucking obituaries daily for entertainment to see who died and how. My house looks like the beginning of a hoarder's secret fantasy, and 90% of the time I'm too overwhelmed to deal with it. I get annoyed at everything. How in God's name does that make me good parenting material? Never mind good parenting material for a kid with Aspergers?

You know what I wish people would say when I'm struggling? "I'm sorry. What can I do to help?" Or, how about, "Hey, let me take him for an afternoon. You go do something fun." I don't need to be told what an amazing person I am dealing with all this shit. I have no choice! I may never ever hold a job again, other than caring full time 24/7 for my kid. But I hate that ridiculous crap that comes out of their mouths. "God bless you, you're a wonderful mother" my ass.

Worse, people who tell me how glad they are that they don't have to deal with it (and believe me, this is family and friends, people). I don't want to hear how much you don't want to trade places with me. I don't need you to remind me how much my life sucks. I'm fucking living it.

And worse, my poor kiddo, who doesn't even know that other kids go hang out or spend overnights or weekends with relatives and friends. He's never spent any time away from me. He's fucking 17! His aunts have my niece over for weekends. My parents take her places all the time, buy her things, spoil her rotten. She gets phone calls and special gifts and fun times. He gets nothing. All he knows is that he's alone-  other than me. Even his own father has no tolerance for him. No friends. No family that cares about him.

I visited my parents once last year. Once. Why? Because he's aware enough to notice the way he's treated. It hurts him. And what hurts him, hurts me. (God, I hope no one I know reads this... and if they do, they understand that I don't fault them. I just wouldn't do that myself.)

As for the in-laws....oh hell, I'm not even going there. Let's just say I've been told that all of his issues can be laid right at my feet and he wouldn't have Aspergers if I was a better parent. Like Aspergers isn't a disability that runs in their fucking family, along with anxiety, depression and OCD. They do at least make an effort to be nice to him ... until his Aspergers comes into play. And then the comments begin, directed at me. I beat myself up enough for my legitimate failures. I don't need to be kicked in the teeth for failures that genetics put into play.

So today I'm sulking. And I'm venting. And I'm wishing that life was a little nicer and didn't suck so much. And I'm hoping that this ugly angry bout of depression too will pass...



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