Thursday, April 22, 2010

Build a Bridge? I think not....


Do you remember way back in the beginning of my very first blogs where I said that I wanted this to be a space for 'keeping it real'? 'It' being life as a special needs parent. Although I still have some ABR improvements to share with you all, I was reminded of my promise last week and feel like that reminder needs to be shared.

I am a forum member of a Yahoo forum specifically set up for parents of children with Cerebral Palsy in Australia. It's a place where we can ask questions, find out information, we can post information that we think might help someone or we can speak openly about the trials and tribulations of being one of these "CPecial Parents", without judgement. In other words....we're amongst friends that get us.

Last week, one of my CPecial Friends posted something on the forum that left us all close to tears (if not bawling). It was something that we have ALL felt at some time but have possibly never put words behind. The post was titled, "I Hate My Life". Well, SHIT! If that doesn't just say it all. Do I feel this right now? Well, no. All is well at the moment. Have I felt this before?..........you seriously have NO idea how many times.

So, in the interests of 'keeping it real' and truly sharing what it is like to be a Specials Needs parent, I have quoted below the forum post from my CPecial Friend, with permission, of course. I have removed all of the names of her family members for the sake of privacy.

Hi Cpecialfriends,

Does anybody else hate their life? I'm sick of getting up every morning and have nothing to look forward to. I'm really starting to resent what I have to do to take care of (my daughter) and also that (my husband) gets to get up and go to work most days and is doing what he wants to do. Its not so much the physical demands of (my daughter), its more the behavioural/emotional and seizures that really gets to me.

Do any of you feel like this and what do you do about it. I've been seeing a Psychologist for the past few mths as I haven't been coping with things, and we've been talking about my feelings about my life and how unfulfilled I'm feeling. I have always told myself that what I'm doing for (my daughter) is the most important thing to me and therefore that is the meaning in my life, but I've come to realise that deep down it isn't.

Do I try to find something more fulifilling which might mean less commitment to (my daughter), or do I just build a bridge and get over it. Am I entitled to find a life that makes me happy, or should I find some way of accepting that this is my life, there is nothing I can do about it and that I will hopefully find happiness in Heaven.

I'm sorry to burden you all with these thoughts/feelings at this early hour but its probabaly the only chance that I'll get to post, and I've been trying to post about it for a few days now.

I would really like to hear what you think even if you think its not what I want to hear.


CPecial Friend (you know who you are), thank you so much for posting your true thoughts and feelings and allowing us all to benefit from your honesty. I only hope that we (your fellow CPecial Friends) were able to help you too.

If you are the parent of a child with Cerebral Palsy (CP) and you live in Australia, feel free to drop by our forum sometime. We would love to meet you and your little ones and you never know, you just might find some kindred spirits.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Today like every day at work, I meet women in exactly this position. The are shuffled from pillar to post with only one thing in mind, find a service to dump them on. Your disability service has changed the title of their workers, they are now community linkers. What they mean is Community dumpers. I see the despair in these young women and I wonder why people are paid 80.000.00 to be community dumpers when that money could give just a moment to a young mother who would like to be herself for just a moment. Do you think I'm mad, you bet I am, and what is worth my daughter is one of those women. robyn