Turning Around

I've taken too many of these walks.

I step out into the night air, having slammed the door so hard I heard something fall off the wall.  For a second I don't care, then I feel a huge guilty sob welling up in my chest.  Guilt for having lost it again.  Guilt for yelling.  Guilt for Aidan having to be in the middle of all this chaos.  Guilt for not being able to help Rowan.  Guilt for leaving Dan with a screaming child, who can't seem to go two seconds this evening without biting, hitting, scratching, screaming, or whipping something.  We tried the visual schedule, the squish game, the social stories.  We Skyped Nonnie, hoping she could cheer him up.  Right now I am cursing Dr. Kidd and Tahirih for their stupid strategies that don't do crap.  I feel completely alone.  My heart is breaking for the loss of the mother that I thought I was.  I have stepped into a place of complete despair.  It is a place I am starting to spend too much time in.

I've had a couple of people comment about this blog, saying I have such a great attitude, and am handling things with such grace.  I've got news people, I am human.  I feel rage.  I think about continuing walking and not coming back.  Maybe making a stop at Miller Dwan and checking myself in.

I know better.  I know that when I reach that place of hot anger, I have found the place where Rowan resides during those tough times.  A place of complete loss of control, where emotion rules over reason.  What I can't figure out is, if it is my job to help Rowan get out of that place, who is going to help me?

At some point, even though I don't feel ready, I turn around.  As a return to my house, I see the disco ball spinning in my living room.  My husband has declared a dance party.  I walk in to find smiles and happy giggling.  I don't feel much like dancing.  I go up to my room and cry some more, disappointed in myself, but happy tears as well for that lovely man downstairs who solved the problem in such a simple, awesome way.  I am so happy we don't have to weather this alone.  Dan and I dance this amazing dance, of knowing when the other has had too much, reminding them to step away when they need to.  (I was told to go on the walk.)  It is stressful though, and I admit there is a lot of tension in this house.  The days we've both reached the boiling point are the worst.

This morning he acknowledged that we need to be better about recognizing communicating those moments of "I've had enough," and respecting that need.  Hopefully his moments and my moments offset each other.  Through my own practices of relaxing, breathing, and putting myself in a time out (going for a walk), Rowan will see healthy ways of dealing with anger.

Supposedly, Rowan has "goat trails" between the center of his brain that has strong emotional reactions and the part of his brain that makes judgements.  (According to Tahirih, who really does rock.  And Dr. Kidd too, who gave us great ideas.)  It takes a while to build a superhighway where a goat trail is now.  Patience and perseverance will help.  A dance party once in a while might help too.  I have a right to feel angry once in a while, I'll try to forgive myself for that.  And I know that even though I am not always the mom I want to be, perhaps after getting through this I will be a better person.  And so will Rowan.