Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Ooh, each morning I get up I die a little ... Can barely stand on my feet

Why do I feel guilty about sharing my pain? I grow so exhausted reading everyone's request for prayers - my aunt has an ingrown toe nail her - send prayers. Yes, there are legitimate prayer requests out there - and those folks get my prayers - but there are people that post every day asking for someone to pray for their relative that has the sniffles --- I have no prayers left. I don't want to be one of those people. I have weak moments and I post that I am falling apart or empty and then I remove it - because who the hell really cares? Seriously? Is anyone going to lose sleep because I'm falling apart? No, and I don't expect them to but if I don't release some of this worry and pain at least through words I will surely crumble into a pile of dust and tears.

For the last decade - I have died a little each day. With Andrew's diagnosis - we take two steps forward and forty paces back it seems. The school wants to move him to another class in another city - with all special needs kids - his brilliance is being tampered by his outbursts. 

About a month ago - I received a call - "come to the school immediately" - they were evacuating two classrooms because Andrew couldn't stop cursing - he was so angry and I was the only one that could calm him down. We made medication changes and he was doing better. Yesterday he apparently had an eight minute (now they are timing them) cursing session and tried to go after another child - not in a way to hurt the child but in the way our dog - acts like he is Cujo but really is Lassie.

As I am drafting this - I received a call from the school - he had another meltdown - cursing, pushing three students - I had to rush there.The faces of the office staff as I walk in - dear Lord - I wish I could disappear. I thank God, the same God who seems to be not listening to my prayers, that no one was hurt.

We have given up the fight - we are going forward with moving him to the other school. We have no choice. His mental illness is killing all of us, one day at a time. The school official and I agree it is like he almost blacks out when he has these outbursts -- that he immediately feels horrible about them but can't remember all the details. I remember the details. They haunt me day and night. 

I am not a religious fanatic. I believe in God. I pray and pray and pray and nothing changes.If he can't help Andrew's mental illness, autism and other issues - at least can he throw me the lotto numbers? 

Lord what you're doing to me 
I have spent all my years in believing you