We all have them, we all survive them, we all feel a little bit of our hearts/souls/reserves deplete when they happen.
But when you have very few people around you who really understand just how ‘difficult’ life with an ASD child can be, difficult days can become very hard indeed.
I am not talking about someone being a little grumpy, someone pushing boundaries or not picking up their socks when asked, I am talking about the full-on, emotion wrenching blow-ups/meltdowns/overloads. Yesterday was one of those days and as well as a residual heaviness in my heart today, there is that familiar feeling of having to analyse and decipher to try and stop it happening again (or to be realistic, minimise the frequency).
Yesterday we were treading on eggshells, cajoling and placating until the inevitable happened and not just once. Jekyll disappeared and the unwelcome Mr Hyde arrived with the over-reactions, shouting, screaming, lashing out and inability to hear, respond or calm down. It becomes a true battle, nothing you say soothes, no point raising your voice, no point walking away as the banshee follows wherever I go.
Being able to write about it on here or post on Facebook is not only cathartic but reminds me there are people who understand, can relate and their kind words really help (thank you ladies – you know who you are).
Once the exhaustion has subsided and the anxiety diminished, I try and put things in context; yes, this is really bl***y difficult, yes, this is not what I thought parenthood would be like and yes, I am never truly relaxed and happy but, we are healthy, we love each other and I’m pretty sure we will make it.
I’m not a religious person but a dear friend once told me ( after a few glasses of prosecco) that God only gives you the child you are strong enough to love – on good days I like to think I am strong enough.