Monday, March 2, 2015

In Which I Mix Metaphors

I had a huge public meltdown the other day and am still shocked and embarrassed and all that good stuff. I saw my therapist today, and she put a weighted blanket on me and talked about my struggling nervous system and expressed sympathy for me having to go through that.

It made me feel so bad for every time I've been impatient or angry with my son. How often does he get unconditional support? Well, more often than some, I'm sure, because we really do try... but not often enough. He should never be made to feel bad about something his neurology/nervous system is doing to him.

And I realize now, that makes it so much worse. Part of what made me melt down was that there were suddenly landmines everywhere in a place that should have been safe... and none of the other people there, my friends and family, realized it. It's like being squeezed by a monster, and only able to squeak out a tiny call for help that no one understands, and when the monster realizes how helpless I am, he squeezes even harder.

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