Archive | May 2013

No Words

His Stare

He stares into your eyes.

Searching you…reading you.

Feeling the pulse of you,

Energy surrounding you,

Embracing you.

This is how he makes sense you.

472

He turns away.

Lost in thought.

A gentle presence,

and quiet demeanor,

Strength of inner being,

 Flowing in expression and meaning.

No words are needed.

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They…Them…Us…Me

What’s that noise?

What noise?

Nevermind.

Where is it?

Find it!

Here I am.

It must be stopped…

Destroyed.

You want to destroy it?

Find it.

Wait!

There it is…

It?!

Don’t you mean who?

Who?

Yes…

A little girl,

Girl…

Over there.

Where?

There…

I am here.

Can you hear her?

No…

Can’t you hear?

No…

Listen…

NO!!!

We’ll destroy it.

Why?

We loathe it.

Why?

Not perfect.

Tear it apart.

Put it together.

Is she alive?

No…not really.

 

Yes I am.

Look at it!

Hideous, monstrous…grotesque,

A real life Frankenstein.

People will run and scream.

Don’t say that…she’s beautiful.

 

Retched!

Imperfect!

Undesirable…Unforgivably…Useless!

Worthless!

Abomination!

Not good enough.

Not like us.

Send it back.

Back to where?

We don’t care!

 You can have it.

But she’s yours.

We don’t want it.

But she’s here.

No it isn’t.

I’m still here.

We’ll get another.

Let her stay.

It’ll be better.

She’ll be good…I know she will.

We don’t want it.

Mommy…daddy?

I Get So Frustrated!

Writing about myself is one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do. Yet I can’t stop trying. I need to get my words out, if for no one other than myself. I get so frustrated when reading others blogs. I love to read them and enjoy the content of their posts, but I find myself getting lost in envy over their fluidity of total expression. I wonder, do they struggle like I do? Do they sit at a little wooden desk and fret for countless days, months and hours…agonizing over every word, writing and re-writing…walking away and returning? Whenever I’m not in front of my computer I feel like I am about to burst at the seems. There is so much that wants to come out. Why is it so hard?!

Just when I think that I’ve figured it all out and am ready to open up the flood gates I go dry again. Where is inspiration? Isn’t it enough to live the story that I want to tell? My words feel emotionless and sterile. Yes, that would best describe it. Perhaps I’m trying to hard. Perhaps it just me and my disconnection to life. My mind won’t allow me to feel the fullness of my emotions. I guess it would be too much. Maybe I should just close my eyes and breathe… All I can see are words floating around in space…taunting me…haunting me. Memories flash before my eyes, yet I still feel nothing. I think I want to cry and scream, but I can’t. There’s nothing there…

I looked into the mirror once and saw a women mentally bludgeoned. I’ve been violated in every possible way. My spirit battered, broken and left for dead. My girth increasing and decreasing…increasing and decreasing…increasing and decreasing… I am OBESE!! I am UGLY!! I am UNWANTED!! I am UNLOVABLE!! There’s no escape. I’m going crazy, I need to release. Please God help me!!!!

I can walk through a house of mirrors and never see my own reflection. Conditioned to ignore the obvious. I live an illusion. I always have. Where there should have been love…there was none. Where there should have been protection…there was none. Where there should have been comfort…there was none. Where there should have been laughter, joy, fun, adventure…there was none. I have been imprisoned by life, my parents, my conditions and even my own mind… Flawed from head to toe…inside and out. I am queen of the misfits…discarded like a broke Christmas ornament. I want to see beauty, but I can’t. I know beauty lives inside. I want to be beautiful on the outside. I can’t see myself because I don’t want to. I don’t want to face the ugly truth. My friends, they tell me I’m beautiful, but they are just being kind.

I crawl out of my hole and begin to pick up the pieces. I try to make sense of what’s left of my life. I put on the face of strength for my child. I don’t want him to see me broken even though he already knows that I am. You see, he knows first hand the pain that is mine. When he was a toddler we used to visit my parents on the weekends. It would take most of the day for me to manage the thought… Hours of crying and vomiting and then slowing getting ready to face the beast. My dad, never satisfied, would always criticize me. One day it had gotten so bad that my precious little one ran over to me, jumped onto my lap and wrapped his arms around my neck…screaming and crying. He turned to look at my dad as if to say…leave my mommy alone. I hugged and kissed him and told him it was okay. We went home. There were many occasions like this, but I dare not miss a weekend. My parents insisted that we break bread together every Saturday. My mother still presenting the face of perfection. Still perpetuating the lie. Will it ever stop?

My parents are gone now. Would it be wrong for me to say that I am grateful? Should I feel guilty for feeling this way? My son can since that I am still haunted by my past. It is on those days that he hugs me and rubs my face to ensure me that it’s okay. I look at him in think how precious he is. He is perfect. He will never know the beatings, ridicule, disconnection, blame and hate that I endured. If only I too had been so precious to my parents.

I relish the joy and peace that we have in our home. My son will never have to question if he is loved. He will never feel the pain I felt. I thank God for that. I thank God that he made me strong enough to break the curse. I thank God for the blessing of my son and the gift of motherhood. Thank you God for showing me what parenting should be… How love should feel… What peace is…

It is because of my love for my son and my quest for healing that I take this journey. I want my son to have the absolute best of me. I want to be free. Not stuffing my pain, but releasing and letting it go…completely. That is my goal. And I will achieve this even if it takes me one letter at a time…

 

Copy of Me and Hunter 2 Favorite

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In Honor of Mikaela Lynch, Drew Howell, and Owen Black and thier family and loved ones!!!!

Little sparrow stay with me,

Don’t drift away so soon.

I need more time,

Though you must go on,

Stay with me little sparrow stay.

Everything can change in a instant.

You being here with me,

Seeing your smile,

The twinkle in your eyes.

I watch you twirl in the sun.

So many words left unsaid.

So many sights unseen.

I think of what should have been,

Could have been,

And now will never be.

If I had one more chance,

To tell you everything,

I would spare no breath,

Would never rest,

To ensure I get it all in.

So go my precious one,

It is okay.

Our time together at it’s end.

We will meet again.

Until then,

I’ll be listening for your laughter in the wind.

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

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The Rain

Funnel Cloud Storm

Cloudy skies overhead,

Air so thick,

Feel the cool dampness.

It coats my skin.

The winds shift.

Warmth rises and falls.

I close my eyes…

Airy thrashings locked in querulous embrace.

Clouds majestic,

Circling in slow melodic motion

Dark heavy swollen,

They watch me watching them.

The dance quickens.

Circling faster and faster

Arms reach down from the sky.

A grand spectacle.

I am seduced by its power,

Heart racing,

Too captivated to run,

Hauntingly beautiful…magical,

Suddenly,

A touch withdrawn,

The rain begins.

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A Flash Blog for Mikaela Lynch’s Family

Please share this information with all of your blogging buddies. I am planning on participating in a flash blog in support of Mickaela Lynch’s family. Read below for more information. Thank you in advance for all of you who wish to participate. 🙂

Zoey Roberts Au shared Adventures in Extreme Parenthood‘s photo.
Adventures in Extreme Parenthood
Please join those of us in the autism & special needs community on Monday, May 20th in writing a blog post (bloggers) or a Facebook status update (non-bloggers) in support of Mikaela Lynch’s family.
We want to flood social media with love for the Lynch family and those who have suffered similar losses — under the cruel scrutiny of media and those who judge without knowing of what they speak.
If you would like to be a part of this movement please share this status & help us get the word out!
Please join those of us in the autism & special needs community on Monday, May 20th in writing a blog post (bloggers) or a Facebook status update (non-bloggers) in support of Mikaela Lynch's family.</p>
<p>We want to flood social media with love for the Lynch family and those who have suffered similar losses -- under the cruel scrutiny of media and those who judge without knowing of what they speak.</p>
<p>If you would like to be a part of this movement please share this status & help us get the word out!

Comment to a Post Written by a Friend

Sharing my thoughts with a friend and all.

The link below is to a heartfelt and eloquently stated post written my friend Seventhvoice.

http://seventhvoice.wordpress.com/2013/05/01/love-me-or-hate-me-this-is-my-response-to-a-comment-that-to-me-tipifys-the-worst-aspects-of-the-autism-community/

Love me or hate me this is my response to a comment that to me tipifys the worst aspect of the autism community

An exert:

This is how the response started;

“While I acknowledge that many parents have fought the good fight– and continue to do so– on behalf of their autistic children, it is also sadly true that many autistic children suffer a great deal at the hands of their parents. Some of that suffering is due to societal problems, and some of it is due to neurotypical parents misunderstanding or being unaware of their autistic child’s needs.”

Ummmm….. I’m sorry but I simply do not believe that children with Autism are suffering from having “misunderstanding” parents.

_______________________________________________

I see where you are coming from in most of what you’ve stated in your post, and agree with you in that respect, but I have to agree with the above aspect written by the commenter on your post as well. It is my experience and observation that NT parents can sometimes misunderstand or are unaware of a need the child is trying to communicate. Even if the need is understood, the NT parent may not know how to address it. They can go to other NT parents, friends, family or even professionals in the field, but that does not guarantee they will receive good council. These parents are doing their absolute best and are at times still coming up short. This is a terrible burden to bare. It is not any fault of theirs, but of society for not acknowledging that there are resources readily available if asked. We on the spectrum offer an honest, unprocessed, matter-of-fact point of view, but society deemed us unintelligent and incapable. We were silenced. What would be the point in their listening to us? We are but lab rats to them.

It is our duty to education each other and the world about our autism. We don’t need these third party entities or their science to speak for us…we have our own voice and have the greatest ability to create our own science… Thanks to science for indicating that we exist, but now it’s time we take the reigns. It’s time that WE are heard!

Who’s to help the parent that reluctantly admits that they can’t always understand their child’s cues?  There are countless indications across the board that cues are being misinterpreted. Listen to the voices of the your kinsmen who are on the spectrum… You will hear the horror and dismay of what it’s like to be accused of undesirable behavior, being lazy, being irresponsible, lack of interest and so on…

NT parents, in the interest of wanting to better connect to their child are joining autism groups to gain further understanding of their child and how to parent them. They seek support from those who know the pleasures and the challenges of parenting a child on the spectrum. There are also parents thought to be NT who later find they too are on the spectrum. It is important that we band together and continue lifting our voices in groups and as individuals. This world can be a better place for us all.

I speak to you from personal experience.

In my childhood I was completely misunderstood. My behaviors and abilities were undesired by my parents. For being smart and having a love of sharing information I was condemned a trouble maker and a nuisance; for stemming, slow response to questions, lack of eye contact or too much eye contact and a multitude of other behaviors I was yelled at and/or beaten.

It hurts being slapped across the face because I stare blankly when asked a question I am struggling to process… and then… having to process why I was slapped… which leads to more slaps and yelling. I shut down…it is too much. I just stand there and take the abuse.

Perhaps there are parents that can only see themselves in the role of parent…. as if in an altered state, no longer aware of what it is to be a person.

It is as if becoming a parent makes one…godlike.

In a moment of anger, a parent may react harshly if they don’t immediately get the response they require. It is assumed the child is being disobedient. Has this parent forgotten what it is to be a child? Is there any wonder as to why some parents have difficulties relating to their child let alone relating to their child on the spectrum?

Autism is on both sides of my family. But that did not make childhood any easier. I suspect both my parents being somewhere on the spectrum; mom disconnected and childlike and dad a mathematical genius who hated higher education and all forms of authority. They were unfamiliar with the word Autism until my son was diagnosed. By then it was too late for them to understand me or even care to try. The deed was done…I’m invisible. All energy and hope are now placed on my son.

I could go on and on about this subject, but I will end my discussion with this….

I am an autistic parent who is raising as autistic child. I know the struggles and wake up ready for the fight everyday. I know the joys, triumphs and freedoms of being a parent who has an unspoken understanding of her child and I know the beauty of sharing the same corner of the universe with him.

There are some differences in the way NT and Autist parents experience their autistic child(ren). There are some differences in our ability to understand and our approach to dealing with the day-to-day challenges.

And yes, there are children that have been hurt by parents who’ve misunderstood.

If ever there were a call for change in the level of awareness and understanding…it is now. If ever there were a call to revamp the direction chosen in taking the measures to achieve higher levels of awareness and understanding…it is now.

We as a whole we will have to figure out how to bridge the gaps in communication between all groups involved (NT parents/Autistic parents/Autistic Individuals/Autistic children and teens/Siblings, spouses and friends of autistics/Professionals).

All groups need to be acknowledged and heard because all groups have their own perspectives.

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