I'm Tired

Sparrow,

It’s been a long time since either of us has written for the blog.  The last time we spoke, we were in agreement that  “Am I Lost” would be put to bed but, lately, I’ve had an urge to write, to discuss a concept that has been brewing, burdening my mind, making me feel disloyal: fatigue.

I sent you a long email yesterday, Sparrow, a long overdue email in response to one you sent me at Christmas. I told you about my “fatigue”. I used it as an overarching excuse for my extended silence. I haven’t emailed, I haven’t sent pictures, I haven’t added music to our shared Dropbox file as I used to, and I haven’t accepted your invitation for another Skype date.

I’m Tired.

I’m a single mother so of course I’m tired but there is a fatigue that goes along with parenting an Autistic child, even a high-functioning one, that I venture to say most parents can’t understand.  Autistic children are unrelenting, dogmatic, temperamental creatures.  In the mind of an Autistic child, everything is black or white, wrong or right, now or never. There are NO STATES OF IN BETWEEN and one stance can flip to the other in the blink of an eye, literally leaving a parent in a constant state of high alert, of psychological exhaustion.

I’m tired

Sparrow, I wake up in the morning with a sense of “testing the air”. From the moment I wake her, I  assess what emotional end of the spectrum my daughter is currently standing at, ready to fend off a bad mood, a sad mood, or hopefully, to enjoy a happy moment or two. I’ve reduced my work hours to focus more on my offspring and her father and I have brainstormed ideas in an attempt to keep our young lady on a steady psychological path.  No matter how hard we try, however, Fledgling's brain is not wired to easily transition through a regular day and, hence…

I’m Tired

Sadly, I’ve allowed my fatigue to affect me outside of my little mother/daughter family unit and I've unwittingly let it keep me from being as open and receptive to two other young Kiddies in my life; the two beautiful young daughters of “My Handsome Boyfriend” (as I routinely call him).

My Handsome Boyfriend is a single father, separated for about the same amount of time as I have been and is actively parenting and raising his lovely little ladies. I’ve met the “Girlies” and I adore them both. They are both charismatic wee Misses with loving, comedic personalities and, while I came to enjoy them both immediately, I was not looking for a relationship that involved young children because…

I’M TIRED

Young children working through a separation and the addition of a new partner need particular emotional care. They need to be eased into the new relationship and watched for signs of stress and discomfort. Their emotional needs have to come first at all times and their well being must come ahead of any romantic needs. Their time with their father must also come first, even when I want to claim the time for my own. I’m a mother.  I know these things.  I accept them and espouse them but…

I’m tired

I don’t want to think about the needs of “Girlies” and the fatigue their needs place on their father. I don’t want to take into consideration the pain or discomfort a new woman might cause an ex-spouse. I don’t want to give up my time with My Handsome Boyfriend when it’s his week with the girls. Fatigue has caused me to reiterate the same tired and selfish phrase through my head on a loop…What about Me…What About Me…What About me…

You know, Sparrow, as I do, that I’m going to continue putting the needs of those two girls first and that I will be careful with them at all times. I’m a sucker for a child and, at my core; I’m a caring, empathetic woman. But, and this is a big BUT, my fatigue is tearing at me, making me second guess myself and my capabilities. It leaves me wondering about other parents of Autistic children, single and married. Do they feel this overwhelming fatigue?  I know you do, my friend, we’ve talked about it, and, I know that, realistically, we’re not unique-if we feel it, others must. But others don’t talk about it. They don’t let on that it makes them selfish, if it does. They don’t let on that they’ve had second thoughts about a relationship or that it's kept them from participating in new experiences because it might add more “fatigue”, more concerns.

It’s for these reasons, Sparrow that I’m writing again. I need other mothers and fathers of Autistic children to know that I, a patient, caring, empathetic mother is tired and, hence, feeling selfish. I’ll scream it from the top of my lungs if it allows other parents to openly acknowledge their own fatigue and/or negative emotions:

I'M TIRED

Now, at least I feel  lighter for having uttered the words (REPEATEDLY) and, yes, he is very handsome and he’s going to hate that he has a nickname that has been put in writing…”My Handsome Boyfriend”

All my love Sparrow.

I miss you more than I can say,

An “I’m Tired” Red Bird 

On Being Lost and Wanting to Be Found

Sparrow,

It's so nice to hear your voice on the blog again. I cheered when I read about you learning the 3-D cartooning and putting your artistic skills to a new use (http://birdieandsparrow.blogspot.ca/2013/05/career-change.html) and I wanted to throw my arms around you when I read about your feelings of "mid life crisis" (http://birdieandsparrow.blogspot.ca/2013/06/um-is-this-what-they-call-mid-life.html). I love that even so far away from each other, with so little contact, and so much time apart (It's coming on a year since I blubbered all over you the day you left), we still need to reach out to each other, to be open and say "this is happening to me, please care".

You know, it's funny, but lately that's been on my mind a lot, the concept of  "this is happening to me, please care"....here's where I'm coming from...I wonder if it is all part of a mid life crisis, too:

I was at a wedding a few weekends ago, the date for the evening for an old friend. Not a date so much as when this person needs a friend to be his "plus 1", he invites me along and I do my best to be "lively accompaniment". We spent the night joking that I was his wedding "beard". On this particular night I found myself alone, for an extended period of time, while my date was with friends (I knew no one at this wedding).

Now,  I'm the kind of  person that can go into an event not knowing anyone and say "hey world, here I am. I know no one so let's chat and be friends". But, I don't do this because I'm socially secure. No! Rather, I do it  as a sort of "life saver". See, what most people don't know about me, is that I hate being in new social situations. I hate being in a crowd.  I detest not knowing anyone. Oh, I'm out in crowds all the time. I do it, and I throw myself into it but as a "fake it to make it" type protective measure. So long as I am saying "hey world, here I am, be my friend", no one knows how lost I am, how lonely and self-conscious. Does that make sense?

Well, on this night, despite being open and friendly, there I was at one point, alone at a table while everyone else seemed to disappear. The crowd thinned, my date was gone to spend time with the groom (an old friend) and, with his phone off, he was not answering my texts inquiring where he was or when he would return. To make it worse, the venue staff started cleaning around me making me feel more and more alone. Not a good feeling, to say the least. Now, before anyone judges my "date", it needs to be said that when he left, I was chatting with a wedding guest and it didn't dawn on him that I was alone. What he didn't know was that this guest left within minutes, as did seemingly everyone else, and I was literally alone for the better part of an hour.

I'd done my job of being easy going and, now, I was lost. It was cold, raining, and the mosquitoes were out. I was tired and feeling stupid and the little girl's voice in my head was whimpering, "Find me. Take me home. I'm lonely".

 It was a terrible, unfortunate feeling. For 20 years I had been in a relationship. For 20 years I lived with a man who understood that my happy-go-lucky bravado was an act and that I always need to be "found", to have an arm put around me to help me feel centered after all the pretending.  Now, there's no one to do that for me, and when the reality of that hits me, it hits hard.

Find me. I'm lost.

Just thinking about the sense of "lost" and the way I felt that night, texting Raven to have something to do and to remind myself that I'm not actually alone in the world makes me teary eyed. Raven, bless her, wanted to come get me, to take me home, and that was a beautiful feeling. Someone else at the wedding though rescued me when she found me alone and went off in search of my missing partner to let him know that his presence was needed.

The night ended with no further mishap.  My date promptly, at my request, took me home but for the rest of the night, and the next day as well, I couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to be found, of wanting someone to know, and to care. I had an overwhelming need for someone to put the kettle on and let me be a little girl without my having to speak up and admit to how I felt.

I'm proud of myself, though, Sparrow because as lost as I feel at times, I still keep going. I pick myself up, brush off my knees and keep moving forward. I recognize that I feel like a lonely little girl at times but I don't let her take over.

Hey...wait a minute...the ability to keep going and the refusal to curl up in a ball when the urge hits...that's not a crisis after all, is it?

With love,
A "Wanting to be Found but NOT in a Crisis",
Red Bird

Um, is this what they call a mid life crisis?

My Dear Red Bird

I had a weird moment the other day. The Hubster and I were in the bathroom brushing our teeth before bed and I was suddenly over come with such heart stopping sorrow as I looked and the man I love and thought 'Oh my God, you're going to turn 50. I don't want you to die, I don't want to die.' It was a sudden panic that life was moving fast. We are past the half way point statistically speaking. I almost burst into tears I was so heart broken. Of course you know the man is many years away from turning 50 and I don't know why I was struck with this sudden fear, but there it is, weird moment in the bathroom. I've had other such feelings lately, a need to get things done like never before, a feeling of it's now or never. We almost bought a sports car the other week. A beautiful little black bullet, with two tiny seats in the back for those capable of folding themselves up into tiny packages. I mean we were ready to sign the papers. What is wrong with us, we are a four person family one of whom is most definitely not capable of the bending and folding thing, my poor Aspie boy! It's also weird because I feel incredibly sad, yet also strangely content with life right now. As much as I feel it's the beginning of the end, I also feel it's the beginning of a new beginning. Mid life crisis? Oh well, at least I'm being productive. Just hope we don't lose it all together and do something crazy.... or maybe I do, it's hard to know these days!

Always yours
A slightly off kilter Sparrow

...In which "My Raven" Steps out From Her Shadows and Poses a Question...

 Dear Sparrow and the "Am I Lost" Readers:

I have a Guest Blog Entry for you today written by a woman that I affectionately call "Raven", a woman I have spoken of on several occasions in this blog. I asked Raven if she would consider writing for the blog months ago and, while she agreed to do it, she quickly realized that baring her soul wasn't as easy as she thought and it wasn't until yesterday that she let it all come pouring out and a blog piece was emailed to me.

When I read the piece, I had to pause, catch my breath and then read it again because I was moved by the raw honesty presented. You see, my Raven, while being an easily supportive, generous and loving friend, is not a woman who easily admits to her own pain. This woman listens, ad naseum, to my heartaches but rarely touches on her own. She regularly texts me just to take my emotional temperature and to remind me that she's there for me, but rarely admits to her own emotional needs.

The past few months have been physically and emotionally difficult on "My Raven"  and while watching her struggle has been painful, it has also been wondrous because it has allowed me to witness something else: the emotional evolution and growth of a dear friend...

With all of that said, I present the following:

I shall introduce myself:

I am Raven, a good friend of Red Bird. I never did meet Sparrow but I feel like I know her from all of the wonderful stories Red Bird has told me. I unlike Red Bird and Sparrow have not had to deal with the same issues with my fledgling as they have as my child is, as some say, "normal", but this does not mean there are no issues. On many occasions we have melt downs, anxiety and more but I have said to myself many times I don't know how Red Bird does it and I applaud her.

Many of the issues I have in trying to be a good parent are with myself as after the birth of my Fledgling depression came tap tap tapping at my door. The hormone changes with pregnancy brought on depression that never went away. I have discovered that depression is like an addiction, we can feed it, we can mask it, we can fight it but it never goes away - we have it for life. I have done all of the above in this battle and I have asked myself , "If I could wish for it to never be, would I?"

 I have been on the roller coaster of medication and it worked TOO well.  I no longer felt depressed but I also no longer really felt anything. I now see how this contributed to the fail of my 19 year relationship with the man who was my best friend. I saw how the medication was taking away my feelings and decided to try to fight it myself. I am by no means saying this is the best way for everyone to go. Medication is needed! I needed it at one point but went off when I felt it was no longer needed and creating more problems. I continue  riding an unmedicated roller coaster (as anyone who has dealt with depression knows, there are ups and downs).

I now have a clear understanding that this is a part of me like the nose on my face and I have no reason to be ashamed and hide it. By not hiding I have discovered I am not alone, family and friends have or are going though this. So please never be ashamed. You are not a weak person to have these lows! I felt for a time I was weak, I was weak for needing medication, I was weak for crying and screaming but no, I was just fighting and  a fighter is strong. A fighter may not win every fight but is still a fighter.

When Red bird was fighting her own battles, and her Fledgling was fighting hers as well, it made me look back and think upon my own struggles. I could relate to them both as some of these feelings they were having I have had myself. I feel great concern and empathy for her Fledgling as I can't imagine dealing with such feelings at such a young age. I went through mine in my late 20's and now 30's and have a hard time. I turn now to a question I mentioned earlier:

 If I could go back would I want to never have struggled or continue to struggle with depression?

The answer to that is hard because my battles have made me who I am. These battles at times have been for the worst and have caused great pain to myself and my family and yes, I would wish that away in a heart beat but if experiencing this changed me to the person I am today then my answer is "no".

So readers, I ask this question of you:  Would you take it away? Is there something in your life that has caused you hardship but that moulded who you are, and would you change this problem?

Ponder this to yourself, with your loved ones, or leave a comment down below. I have enjoyed sharing with you all and hope to again. This time I hope I made you think and next time I hope to make you laugh.

Best Regards,

Raven
Forever pondering weak and weary

 

Storms, Voice Overs and Grey's Anatomy

"There's an end to every storm.

 

 Once all the trees have been uprooted, once all the houses have been ripped apart, the wind will hush. The clouds will part. The rain will stop. The sky will clear in an instant.

 

 And only then, in those quiet moments after the storm, do we learn...

who was strong enough to survive it."

I'm  about to "out" myself:   I watch Grey's Anatomy.  The above is a quote I took from Meredith Grey's voice over at the end of the season 9 finale (don't worry, if you're a fan and you haven't yet seen the finale, I'm not about to give anything away with this post). I started watching Grey's Anatomy for the first time about a year ago and I started for a specific reason:

I needed to cry.

I needed an emotional outlet.

There was so much turmoil in my life and I discovered that I needed the cathartic experience that comes with watching a show that tugged at my heartstrings, that took me on an emotional roller coaster ride, leaving me breathless and wasted, but ready to take on the world because it offered me a safe outlet for my pain.

IT WORKED BEAUTIFULLY....that and swearing at the top of my lungs :-)

After watching that episode, and the tears had stopped, I was left pondering the voice over...

"And only then, in those quiet moments after the storm, do we learn...

who was strong enough to survive it."

 

I realized, in no time, that I don't agree with this quote.  Have you ever seen a broken human being? Have you ever witnessed someone go through an emotional pain so terrible that you can't fathom what it feels like? I have. Witnessing it made me understand:  Some pains are unbearable and yes, some of us survive them, but a lot of us don't and that has nothing to do with strength.  This statement,  I would argue, is a dangerous generalization.  I survived my terrible year, and the terrible years that preceeded it and, yes, I am a stubborn and tough SOB but sometimes, even tough SOB's can't weather a storm if the storm is forceful enough. Even stubborn SOB's can be left crippled and weak, and yes, sometimes they don’t survive. That's not about strength, that's about the size of the storm...easily confused but not interchangeable concepts.

My daughter is here after the storm, but only because we forced her to be.  Left on her own, her storm would not have been weathered and, should she have been taken from me, it is a guess as to whether or not I would have had the strength to continue.  Some storms can’t be weathered. Some storms take us and bash us and we are never the same.

I challenge you to think twice about pain, about strength and about survival and if you do, remember that pain is not meted out in "fair" doses, rationed out by what can be handled.  Always know that  not "getting back up" after being knocked down is not a sign of weakness but, perhaps, an indicator of the gravity of your trauma.


I challenge you to say no to thoughtless, pointless gross generalizations like the following that make people feel shame for buckling under extreme duress:

.

...and say no to well penned voice overs, as well, for often, they sound pretty but hold no real substance. Now, put the kettle on, get a box of Kleenex, fire up an episode, and have a good cry

Love Always,

A "Grey's Anatomy Watching" Red Bird

Career Change

Well my dear friend, I think things are pretty much back to normal. We are back in sync with west coast time, the apartment has managed to lend itself well to the four of us without feeling crowded and I am nearing the end of a cold that hit me fast and hard and has left me with a strained neck and shoulder as I awkwardly piled up pillows in an attempt to sleep without having to reach for a tissue every five minutes. Ah, such is life!

With everything in it's place and running smoothly, I have had time to think about my next step on this funky road I travel and well, a career change is in order. I am going to try my hand at modelling.

Okay, I'll give you a moment to mop up the coffee I know just sprayed right out your nose and mouth. Obviously I don't mean that type of modelling, I mean 3D modelling for gaming purposes. Okay, another moment to mop up more coffee is probably needed here, after all we both know I am not gifted in the technology department. But I am an artist and it's about time I dragged myself into the 21st century. I now have words like Blender, Unity, polygons and meshes in my vocab and more importantly, I know and understand what they all mean! Impressed? I'm beside myself with giddy pride as I rotate, scale, translate and LMB the heck out of our desktop. My trusty team of geeks (aka the Boy and the Man) are watching mouths agog as I create a game character who I will animate, somewhere around Chapter 8.

This is of course all down to the Boy. We have in the back of our minds the thought that University may not be for him with all it's social hurdles and processing challenges. He is at home in the world of computers and it appears gifted at this gaming thing. At present he is designing a game with people from Australia and Romania and has plans for a gaming empire. We see ourselves as his champions and guides, so I had better get myself up to date, can't champion the kid if I have no idea what I'm talking about. The added bonus being a new skill for me and a possible income in the future. When you open yourself up to new possibilities great things can happen. Let's see if this is one of those times. Heck, I've said it out loud now, so I can't fail, that would be too embarrassing.

Always yours
your newly geeky friend
Sparrow

Sparrow's return

Well my dear friend, I am back in Canada. You have been so patient with me while I shut myself off for 10 weeks as I knew you would. I didn't intend on disappearing altogether during this time, it just happened. I had no desire to open my laptop. No need to check emails or follow my usual blogs. No craving for contact. I was happy being a daughter and a mother, reconnecting with my parents face to face rather than over Skype or the phone line. Spending time with family.
 After recovering from the initial shock of my Mum's diagnosis and the stress of hopping on a plane and leaving the boy's behind, I have been struggling with another emotion which took me rather by surprise. Jealousy. I found myself resenting the fact that my parents live so close to my sister now. That she can pop round whenever she wants and that their world now revolves around my niece. I know, and I'm deeply embarrassed. I'm jealous of my four year old niece! I have to assume that it's all related to the fact that my parents mortality has been aggressively thrust in my face and reminded me that what I once took for granted is fast running out. Time. My sister is banking hours of it, memories to always have in her back pocket in the future when she needs them. I didn't want to share my precious minutes with her or my niece, I didn't want my memories to be about what my niece did, I wanted them to be about me and my parents. Inside I was stamping my feet and having a tantrum and I fear perhaps, a little outside too. Ten weeks seems like a long time, but it flew by all too fast and I feel like I haven't done enough for them. My Mum is undergoing chemotherapy and I'm not there to tell her how beautiful she looks when she loses her hair, her biggest fear in this battle she is in. Or to support my Dad when the love of his life is suffering and he doesn't know what to do. This is his battle too. I have never felt so far away and totally useless.

Thank you dear heart for letting me hide away these last few months, but life keeps moving forward so I am back and running along side you once more.
Always yours
Sparrow