Tag - sad

July 13: Sometimes
The Nights
Sleep is What I’ll Do Next Year

July 13: Sometimes

Over the last few days I’ve been fighting despair. I don’t often write about the days that knock me down because who wants to read about that, really.

Writing when you feel sad or depressed means acknowledging the source of your sadness. It means pulling up a chair in the middle of your own pity party. It means owning the feelings, sitting with them, sometimes thanking them. You run the risk of feeling worse before you feel better.

Write, press Publish, release. The good. The bad. The fully-formed thought, the more nebulous one. I imagine my words hanging here in cyberspace and they alight on your screen — are they little stings of familiarity, are they met with incredulity or do you have days like this too?

Sometimes I feel my mission is to paint a happy face on it. Twins. Autism. La-di-da, big whoop.

Sometimes I go weeks, months, without posting because I can’t find the happy and I can’t bear to sit with the alternative.

Sometimes autism is much bigger than me. Sometimes I back down and let it call the shots.

Sometimes I don’t think I can do this one minute longer. Sometimes I burst into tears from the frustration, the exhaustion, John’s lack of communication. Sometimes I feel that autism is blotting me out.

Sometimes all I can think about is how John will always always always need me, even when I’m walking with a cane, even when I’m senile and can no longer see.

Do you see? I must be superwoman. I must live forever. It’s exhausting.


The Nights

Twins Dad is gone for the week — on business. This means that I’ve been on 24/7 mom duty to two boys who WILL NOT sleep through the night in this hideous apartment. Last night we were up from 2 until 6. I awoke to two boys jumping around on my bed, vying for the spot closest to me. They snuck in, no cries for me to come running — it’s become their late-night act. I marched them both back to their room and attempted to squeeze myself between them on the floor. Crying from one, maniacal laughing from the other. I tried music. I tried rubbing backs. I tried threats and bribes. I offered juice, changed a diaper, THEN changed wet sheets. I yelled, I’m not proud, I have no patience anymore. I threw things across the room — soft things at least, pillows, stuffed animals. There is no fury like that of a mom going on no sleep. And then, I hate to say it, I wanted nothing more than to walk out the door. Just leave. Let someone else do this because I am losing my mind. What kind of mother does that, thinks that. Well, I’m sure I’m not the first. I hope.

At last, Sam was out. John continued his silly talk and puzzle fingers until I held him tightly to my chest, feeling his breath rise and fall as he gave in to sleep, just as the sun started peeking through the edges of the blinds.

Sleep is What I’ll Do Next Year

Thank you to everyone who emailed or posted suggestions about our sleepless nights. We are still sleepless ’round these parts but have fallen into a better rhythm. We increased the melatonin dosage after consulting with our pediatrician. It still is magic getting them to fall asleep, but John continues to wake every night between 1:30 and 2:00. What’s new is that instead of the manic hours spent wide awake, he has started coming straight to our bed, climbing in between us, and going back to sleep — probably two nights out of three. I can’t help but wonder if this is now turning into a behavioral problem (i.e., he can’t fall back asleep without us).

But hey! Sleep is sleep! Who cares if there’s a four-year-old fighting for covers?

Of course last weekend, we spent one extra-miserable sleepless night when the apartment we’re staying at flooded. Yes, it really did. Flooded. After noticing how fast both boys seemed to be having “accidents” while playing in the living room, I sat down on the floor next to them and quickly realized they were playing on saturated wall-to-wall carpeting. We were moved to an upper floor apartment while they brought in fans and hauled out soggy carpet pads.

I don’t think I could have written this past year.

Repairs on our house have progressed but not nearly quick enough. We have walls and a ceiling and fresh coats of paint… but still no floors and to add to the mess, newly discovered water damage in the basement. When extinguishing the fire, the fire department was able to keep water damage mostly to a minimum, but not enough to prevent it from trickling all the way down two floors. Now the basement ceiling will have to be removed and aired out.

End of October. Maybe.

Copyright © 2006-2016 Autism Twins. All content protected.