People love to say things like “there is no such thing as normal”, “we are all on the spectrum” blah blah blah…not true. If you truly are, then you know or feel that it is not true.
I know normal people, i know normal people’s kids, normal people’s families and i knew then and now more-so, that what i was witnessing in my child, was not normal. Not even normal for him.
I could stand here and list a whole load of reasons why this ‘normal’ didn’t seem to exist in the boy, but I won’t. I don’t need to. I have had to do that too many times, to too many people who weren’t listening. And i am tired of it.
I am tired of the sound of my own voice, be it shouting for safety, screaming for recognition or just buzzing constantly around my own skull…i am sick of the sound of my own goddamn words, word counts, re-edit, send email, continue complaint, send another email, watching what i write and how i say it…for fear of misinterpretation or hate instigation.
Ok, so before i was a mom, i was a person. Not normal. But certainly not harmful to anyone other than possibly myself in my shittest of un-normal moments, exacerbated by un-normal conditions.
Life/we were faced with such a shit-storm of appointments, assessments, judgements that we were no longer bobbing along, or even keeping our head above water, i was in fact drowning.
I was gurgling, no, choking, on this thick black tar like shit that was being churned up by the impassible child development centre we faced each week…and stupidly, genuinely, i went spluttering, gagging…asking for some help…
….for someone to see what we saw and for someone to believe what we said.