The Hard Days
Most days I run so fast through the day that I don’t have a lot of time to think. That’s not true – I’m thinking all day long. But it’s busy thinking, not thoughtful thinking. It’s making a to-do list in my head, crossing things off, getting things done, running from one meeting to the next. I don’t often have time to dwell, and frankly I’ve never really been one to do much of it anyway. I’m more of an onwards and upwards type.
This week I’ve hit a wall. Hard. I think it’s because I’ve been in contact with more parents with kids similar to Stellan and I finally hit reality. Or let reality hit me. I’ve been so focused on being positive and optimistic, that I may have allowed myself to be a bit delusional about Stellan’s future. Walking and talking haven’t been “maybes” they’ve been things he’ll get to eventually.
And this week, for whatever reason or convergence of reasons, I have found myself feeling very, very discouraged and sad. It’s worse still when I bottle it up or push it aside all day in order to maintain professional decorum – get through the day, get things done, don’t let the facade crack, keep a positive attitude.
The last two days walking to the subway from the office to get home I’ve been suddenly, overwhelming consumed with grief. The kind that you have to physically brace yourself against because otherwise you crumple over. I find that the best way for me to deal with it is to just let it out. Have one of those intense, body shattering crying jags, and then get on with it. So I’ve done that.
I know people have looked at my funny as I’ve walked down the street sobbing, or because of my red watery eyes on the train, and I don’t care. I know it’s better to get it out, not hold it in or push it aside. Feel it, deal with it, and then I can open myself to whatever comes next. Whenever the next wave rolls in. I know it will come again, and I hope that each time it does, with practice and time, I’ll get a better handle on it (hey, at least I can keep it at bay now until I’m out of the office and don’t have to run to the bathroom!) and maybe, one day, having a special needs child (I’m practicing saying it a lot so it becomes not a big deal) will become just part my regular old life and not a cause of such intense emotion.
Unless it’s happy emotions. Then I want a lot of those.