People in Alcohol Anonymous will often introduce themselves as Alcoholic or a narcotic addict. As many of you know from my book Raising Robert, I confess to addiction to both drugs and alcohol. Thirty years into sobriety I prefer to call myself recovering.
This was a hard summer for most of us. Life was turned upside down, and nothing seemed normal. June, generally my favorite month of the year, was challenging. My husband had a planned hip replacement surgery, while I had an unplanned repair on my left arm. I had dislocated my elbow and torn all the ligaments, by simply falling in the front yard. Everything had slowed way down in the medical community, so getting my arm repaired took a while. In my opinion a long long while. I was anxious for the recovery part to start, I wanted to resume my new normal activities.
Patience, how many times do I have to go around the same mountain, learning that all will happen in its own time? My attitude, generally helped by the antidepressants I take, took a nosedive. I felt old, useless, and that my life was pretty much at an end. Desolation, a term used in connection with grief felt like my life from now on.
Two weeks after surgery, a whole month with an arm in a sling I began Physical Therapy. “This is a bad injury” my Therapist told me, “we need you to do exercises to increase your range of motion.” How many of us in the Prader-Willi Syndrome community have wanted to do that work for their children? To make them stronger and more able to accomplish tasks.
What happens when it is you that must do the work? I have seen cohorts with hip replacement surgeries continue to limp because they did not do rehab. Why are we motivated to get help for others but do not do the work for ourselves?
This is a reoccurring theme that I write about. I see parents of Special Needs children exhausted by the work they do for their children. Help is offered but they do not accept it. I look at it as a control/comfort issue. I know my child best, they are safe with me, the outcome will be better if I do it.
I did the work to help repair my arm. I am back to swimming, walking, riding a horse, and gardening. These are all the things I do to keep from feeling depressed and hopeless. I have more free time now that I am not my son’s full-time care giver, but these activities add to my enjoyment of life.
Our happiness depends on the life we carve out for ourselves. I cannot imagine how hard it is for parents to home school their children and be responsible for everything else. I do know if they do not take care of themselves first, they will not be capable of compassionately caring for others.