I am tired

Questions from friends and family:

1. “How do you do it?”

2. “You must be exhausted!”

3. “I could never do it!”

4. “I had no idea how difficult things were.”

5. “Aren’t you tired?”

6. “Are you getting help?”

7. “Why don’t you _________________?”(fill in the blank)

8. “Why are you so sad?”

Corresponding answers to the questions above from  me:

1. “I just do it.”

2. “I am exhausted.  All  the time.”

3. “You would, too, if you were in the same situation.”

4. “Most people don’t have any idea how difficult things are.  Many times I hide these difficulties.”

5. “Yes, I’m tired.  Oh, so tired.  It’s different from physical exhaustion.  It’s a mental tiredness.”

6. “Of course, I” ‘m getting help in every way possible.  But even with the help, the issues are always there.  Always lurking, waiting to come to the surface.”

7. Verbal response:  “Thank you, I’ll take that under advisement and think about it.” Nonverbal response:  “Are you kidding me? “

8. “My kid is neurodivergent.  I am sad for them.  They have to work so hard to fit into a neurotypical world.  Our family has had to pay the cost of this in so many ways.  Yes, I celebrate their differences, but at the same time, it is hard.”

For the past twenty-plus years, I have been hearing and answering the above questions.  I understand the curiosity and concern of those who have asked those questions.  I am glad that I had and still have these close friends and family who are in my corner, trying to understand and attempting to help.  But at the same time,  I have grown tired of the questions and even more exhausted in trying to answer them when I simply no longer have any interest in answering them.  This is not to say that I don’t appreciate the care and concern.  Really, the bottom line to what I am trying to say is that I am simply tired.

Just when I have started to think that maybe I won’t have to work so hard, that finally, life will get easier,  that my job at raising a neurodivergent son will soon be over, and that I can ride off into the sunset with ease,   reality hits again. My thoughts turn to nope, not yet, not now, or maybe never.  I have felt like giving up at times.  I have wanted to run away at times.  I have lost hope.  I have cried and cried and cried.  I have yelled and railed against God. I am tired.   But I continue to move on.  I take some time out.  I find time to spend alone.  I do the things that refill me – reading, praying, writing, hiking, yoga, nature, sleeping.  These things fill my tank with hope and joy. 

Although the above is my personal experience,  there are countless parents out there who feel exactly the same way I do and are experiencing life the same way.  You may be one of them.  Or you may know someone like me.  I often write this kind of blog not as a way to garner sympathy but as a tool for others to understand what it’s like to raise a neurodivergent child and for support for parents who are raising a neurodivergent child.  In many cases, raising or caring for that child doesn’t end when they become adults.  

To those who are my friends and family, I continue to need your love and support.  Sometimes I don’t want to talk about myself or Ryan or my family.  I just want to enjoy time with you and have a good time, a good laugh, a good meal, a fun game, and a good bottle of wine.  This time is my respite.  Instead of answering your questions, I may establish a boundary and say, “Sorry, I’m not talking about that tonight.  But thanks for asking.”  Please accept that response and know that I will do so when and if I want to talk. 

For those reading this and are parents of a neurodivergent child, discover the things in your life that you enjoy doing and make time for them.  Find a support group, whether online or in person.  Being around other parents who are going through similar things can help you not feel so alone.  Build your village around you by keeping those friends who support you and walking away from those who don’t.  You need people who love you, not judgmental ones who may blame you for who your child is.  These people don’t understand and don’t want to.  Please remember that you are not alone, which sounds like a platitude, but I am here.  I will listen, and I will support you.