Sleep in Peace...

Here I am, up at midnight, as usual. Night terrors, broken ears, and shenanigans abound this evening. I often write at night because that is when it is most peaceful, but tonight, I feel anything but that. I have this vast stream of consciousness just rolling through my head and it is keeping me awake and full of anxiety. I don't have a particular point to make this evening, as I usually do, but I have a few confessions to make. Being that I am essentially sitting on the eve of a new beginning, I should probably receive my last rights and make my final confessions on this part of life I am leaving behind. (No, I am not catholic, but sometimes, a confession is worth more to the soul than one realizes.)

I am tired. I am so exhausted and, honestly, not sure how to deal with that. I have always been the strong one. I show no weakness because it can be used against me. I face the world head on. If I get knocked down, I get up. Sometimes, though, I don't want to. There are days when the world knocks me down and I think it just might be better to lie there and take it. I have spent the better part of 10 years, fighting for one thing or another. I am so tired of fighting. I am tired of fighting with the system and society. I am tired of fighting with my loved ones, both past and present. I am just tired.

I love my children with all my heart and soul, but there are days, when I wonder what life would be like if they didn't have autism. Would they still struggle with the compulsion that nearly rules our life? Would I be so secretly angry all the time? If I am being truthful with myself, I AM angry. I am angry that I can't help or understand my kids. I am pissed to hell that these issues are causing a ripple effect that is weakening the fabric of our family. We are a strong family, but lately, it is getting hard. I love the quirks that come with my kids. They teach me things daily. That doesn't mean that there aren't days where I absolutely HATE autism. Today, I hate autism. I hate compulsive disorder. I hate learning disorders. I am so damned frustrated trying to teach my daughter, that sometimes, stabbing myself in the eye sounds wonderful. I am so tired of the cycle of compulsive activities that run rampant in this house. They take it, hide it, lie about it, get caught, and melt down because they realize they don't completely control it, and now think they are the worst kid in the world. I am not saying they aren't responsible, but dammit, it isn't all their fault. I am tired of having to pick and choose my battles with autism. I feel like somewhere I went wrong, even though I know I didn't. It's so incredibly screwed up. The children's autism has me so torn on how to feel. I want them to understand what they are doing, but don't want to make the situation worse. I want to rail at their father for passing it on. I want to just beat his chest and cry. Yeah, today, I really hate autism. Regardless, show no weakness. Every fiber of my being is saying, "Hold your head high. Don't let them see you cry. You cannot afford to show weakness."

I know I mentioned having made an appointment with DV for this Monday. I wonder how many people realize how much just walking in there, is going to cost me. It is like a full on admission that I HAVE a weakness. What's worse, is it is an admission that someone holds dominion over me without my consent. Through fear, emotional, and mental abuse, somebody is able to make me feel weak. I have to walk in there and admit that. I have to ask for help. I cannot remember the last time I asked for serious help. I'm not even sure that there ever was a time that I did. I have always been the grown up. I have always been the one that helped others find their strength. Now, I am about to walk into a building full of strangers, and admit that when it comes to a certain person, I don't have that strength. A PERSON!

The really screwed up thing is that, somewhere, I have had my mind warped so badly, that I feel like I am committing a massive betrayal. My head is so foggy regarding the whole situation, that it feels wrong to seek help for this. How dare I admit this? How mad is the person going to be? Pretty freaking mad. I know that. I also know that if I don't do this, I am displaying an even bigger weakness, in allowing the manipulation and fear tactics continue. This is what has been playing through my head as the day approaches. The head games were so bad that I am questioning whether it is all just a matter of perception. I know it's not. I know that the level of anxiety, to the point of panic attacks, at just the thought of this person, is not normal. I know that it is getting worse and that I have to do something about it. I need help. It feels wrong to even say that, but it is true.

It all circles around to being tired of the way I have been feeling. I have been living in abject fear for years. I am so tired of fighting. I am so tired of being accused of this or that, when in reality, all I am doing is trying to make life easier on my children. I have had enough. I will do this because I no longer feel I have a choice, but I don't know what this is going to do to me. The move is a good one, but how many old wounds can one open without bleeding to death? I wonder that. I am not a one antic at a time person. If I am going to do this, I am going to do it with all of me. That means admitting I am weak in this area. It means that I am going to rip everything wide open. I am going to grieve for myself. I am going to grieve for the girl that is now gone. I know this. I am not sure that I am ready for it, but ready or not, it is no longer something I can avoid.

I don't know how to do this. I know that I need to tell the absolute truth, no matter how damning it is for the other person, or how painful it is for me. I know that I am opening a proverbial Pandora's box. I am strong enough to pry open that box, but I also know that it contains my own kryptonite. Facing the ghosts of my past is not something I am looking forward to. I talk here and there of little things. I wrote a blog about the stuff I don't talk about, but it honestly, was mild. I don't think one person in this universe knows the whole scope of what I endured. I wonder how much I really remember and how much I have buried. I guess I can wonder all I want, because I am going to find out.

They say the more water that pours through a crack, the wider it gets. I think I am about to unleash a torrential river of emotions and memories. Some of which I remember and have shared. Some of them, I remember, but have never shared. More comes to me everyday this appointment gets closer, but I know there is so much more that I have pushed back so far, because it just hurts too much. I think that I have to hurt to heal. I have to be weak to gain strength. In doing so, I will learn something about myself, but more importantly, I will finally take my life back. I am so tired of walking on eggshells and living in fear. So tired of fighting. I am just so done.

Well, as per usual, the midnight musings of the sleep deprived have taken a more direct approach, but I stand by what I have said. I don't know how to show weakness. I am going to learn that. I am going to face my own fear and show it. I am not so patiently waiting for the new psychiatrist for the children, in hopes that we can at least curb some of the behaviors that are ripping into us. I am going to get them what they need. I cannot do that alone either. I will be asking for help there too. I am going to seek out healing for myself, despite feeling vulnerable in every way. Asking for help and showing weakness is something that I am not accustomed to, but it's not wrong. It's human. I have all these things running around in my head that are making me uneasy and I can't sleep. Maybe it really is time for me to admit my own shortcomings and seek help. Maybe then, I can sleep in peace, without fear.