Sunday, July 31, 2011

Please...shut up.

I have really been avoiding Facebook as much as possible. Trying to get caught up on the family and friends and trying to avoid the other crap.

Today, after Bug's 2nd day of 4 seizures and not eating too well, and after a week and a half of watching him struggle just to walk, sometimes even sit up, I have found myself really resenting people complaining about...well...mundane things and people supporting them as if they lost something really valuable. I mean, really? Where the hell is the perspective?

I read the posts of people who have told me that Bug has his problems because I am not going to church, complaining about how horrible it is that their scrapbook page didn't win an award and yet, they tried really hard on it and it was beautiful. Or how I should just pray more (as if they know how much I pray) talking about how excited they are about the latest wizard/vampire/escapism novella/movie is being released. Correct me if I am wrong but isn't that idol worship of sorts? At the least it's giving credence to something that has a demonic undertone to it? I don't invite any kind of evil into my life, except maybe modern medicine. I have been hiding those people, maybe later I will get around to deleting them, friends, family or whatnot. I want to scream at them: shut up, I wake up in the middle of the night just to make sure my eight year old is breathing. I research the latest advancements with his condition, I prepare his cream and Ketocal and beg him to eat his favorite food so he doesn't lose anymore weight. I give him 4 medications, 2 times a day and think about how cool it is that it's not more. I follow him around to make sure he doesn't run into the door handle again, I check him daily for new bruises, because he won't tell me, and I plead for him to say Mama, just one more time. I wait by the phone for the Doctor to call, and every time I leave him with someone, I worry constantly. I have had friends think I am a horrible parent for taking 3 or 4 hours here and there to myself, and really, those people are just trying to avoid having to be thinking about anyone other than themselves. Believe me, I am always with my son, even if I am not sitting next to him. It goes deeper than other Mothers, it really does and the ones that argue that point...don't have a child with Special Needs. So...shut up. Don't complain if I ask you for help...it's a REALLY BIG FREAKING DEAL when a Special Needs Mom asks anyone for help, because she doesn't believe anyone can take of that child like she can, and letting go, is like turning over your heart AND your lungs to someone else.

And I don't complain. I may say: Dang, bad day. But the words: Why me? Why him? NEVER leave my lips or show on my computer screen. I mourn things he can't do everyday, and I look at the pictures of his happier days, and sometimes I cry. I don't cry in front of anyone and I don't create drama for attention. Even though, these things he can't do and these things he is in danger of daily are palpable, and not getting the best seat in the movie theatre, or finding out the my favorite author isn't writing anymore, those things, don't even make the list of truly lamentable things. Sorry.

Yet, I look at the lives of the people that place such importance on these things and I think about how miserable they must really be. If something that has no real effect on their lives, physically, is so devastating, then how much life are they missing? If they are so immersed in something that they comment more about that thing than the people in their lives, they must be unfulfilled.

I don't admire, worship, or give lip service to people I don't personally know. Dad used to always say: They sit to shit, just like you do (be offended, go ahead, it's my Dad NOT ME). Keep it in perspective.

So I have learned to find joy in little things as much as big things. I spend my time with people that I love, not that people I wish I knew. As too many people like to say: What would Jesus do? Would he go to HP8 or Camp Spike and Wave?

Easy answer. Harry Potter...is not real.

Now, I continue to wait for the Dulcolax to work so Bug can feel better. What are you doing?

Google - Not a medical pancea.

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