Dear Blog

Dear This Blog,

I’ve been having a hard time with you, of late.

The only things I want to say to you aren’t heartfelt treatises on the beauties found in the struggles of life.

Turns out, the things I’ve got to say are raw, difficult things—things so real they make me feel guilty for sharing.

But, my blog, you are mine. And this is what’s inside me.

So I will tell you about behavior problems.

Blog, I had dinner recently with two friends who have children sort of like Jack, at least in the unpredictable violence/aggression/destruction arena. We ate carbs and cried a little as we talked about what it means when your child has behavior problems.

When your child has a disability which inhibits a) impulse control, b) communication, c) the ability to wait, d) social and emotional maturity, or e) coping with disappointment, strange things happen, and they happen so regularly that they become part of the daily landscape. “Normal,” if you will. But not, actually.

Things like:

  • broken windows
  • holes in walls
  • dents in floors and refrigerator doors
  • broken appliances (kid stepped on open dishwasher door, etc)
  • paint on carpet
  • shredded rooms (scientific term for a room that has been dismantled by a special needs minor in less than five minutes)
  • glassware thrown across kitchens
  • toys lobbed at people and walls
  • biting
  • punching
  • kicking
  • screaming
  • raging
  • manic pacing/running as if on speed
  • waking up at four or five am
  • staying up until midnight

It’s not an exhaustive list, dearest blog, but you get the picture.

These behaviors do not happen all the time, but for a family like mine, some of them happen daily.

My friends and I discussed, as we carb-loaded, the difficulty with severe behavior issues. We decided that one of the biggest concerns we have is that people are horrified by violence in children. It is not something people understand. It’s foreign. It’s disturbing.

It’s borderline shameful.

One should not openly discuss the fact that one’s mentally disabled preteen throws things at one’s head.

It makes people uncomfortable.

It makes me uncomfortable.

Little blog, while I do not like the daily house destruction or sometimes having to guard myself and my children from the disabled son’s outbursts, it is most painful when other people see the nature of our behavior problems.

Others do not live with Jack and know his goofy sweetness.

If you only see his behaviors, can you recognize his goodness and purity?

Will people see Jack’s bravery for living life in an unwieldy body with a mixed up brain?

I love Jack. I hate the behaviors.

Thanks for listening, blog. You remain a lifeline.

xoxo,

Megan

  12 comments for “Dear Blog

  1. Kerri
    January 22, 2016 at 11:09 am

    Much love. I love that you don’t avoid talking about the hard. Thanks.

  2. Susan
    January 22, 2016 at 8:41 pm

    The best you can do is all you can do, and the best you can do is enough. It’s enough.

  3. January 22, 2016 at 9:00 pm

    Don’t stop. I’m sure it’s a lifeline to others too. Also, bingo to this “But, my blog, you are mine. And this is what’s inside me.”

    Carbs and tears and friends to wonders.

  4. Ann Cannon
    January 23, 2016 at 12:19 am

    I love what you write. And that photo. Wow.

  5. Vivian
    January 23, 2016 at 8:43 am

    Keep writing! You are a lifeline for others. You express how you feel and what is really happening in a beautiful way. Sending much love your way❤️❤️❤️❤️

  6. Julie M
    January 23, 2016 at 9:08 am

    Thank you for this post. Well, for all of them, really.

  7. January 23, 2016 at 10:19 pm

    You are a consistent blogger. Well done.
    And you are real. Double well done.

  8. Jennifer
    January 24, 2016 at 3:59 pm

    Promise you’ll never stop writing?

  9. Molly
    January 25, 2016 at 7:55 am

    Your blog keeps me going especially on the hard days.

  10. Julie M
    January 27, 2016 at 3:25 pm

    The thought just occurred to me that good literature is often comprised of chapters filled with discomfort and raw, difficult things. It’s what makes us keep turning the pages.

  11. jaimi
    January 30, 2016 at 12:21 am

    A friend saw this post and shared it with me. I have a very similar story. Thanks for writing. You are not alone. I am not alone.

  12. February 4, 2016 at 9:47 am

    I am touched every time I read you. I know the pain and the joy.

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