1 Tear and Share Bag of M&M's Later
(Which were not shared...)
(Which were not shared...)
I mentioned in a previous post that exercise is a form of therapy for me. As the mother of a child with moderate/severe ADHD and mild Aspberger's syndrome, every day is full of new challenges. Some days are handled well- I am full of patience and feel capable of handling anything my son can throw at me- sometimes literally. Other days I find myself locked in the pantry, bawling my eyes out, shoving anything remotely chocolate into my mouth with reckless abandon. Add to that emotional roller coaster the guilt you feel when you have a second son who is just as in need of your love, time, attention, and emotional stability and a husband who you always feel you're failing because you're so drained you just have absolutely nothing left to give. Falling asleep on the couch by 9pm does nothing for your love life, let me tell you.
I generally don't go out for a run or bike or lift weights on the weekends. I like to spend time with my family since the Husband is working or traveling and the boys are in school during the week. The thing is, exercise is my pressure relief valve. I can literally feel the stress melting away the further I go, the harder I work...but without it, I feel that the high pressure sensor arrow is all the way in the red, just moments away from a 3-mile-island meltdown. I can't control the situation we find ourselves in, but I can at least control my workouts.
This weekend, my oldest son went to his first sleepover. The house was peaceful and quiet. Even so, I was worried sick the entire night. Before leaving to pick him up, I called and the friends mom filled me in on the things that happened throughout the night. I had such high hopes for him. I reminded him to behave and follow their rules, I talked to the mother of the child whose home he was staying at, let her know about my sons issues, was reassured that it would be fine...all was not fine. She wasn't at fault, and I know we're not either, but it doesn't make the guilt go away. The sick worry that my son will hurt himself or someone else. It's always there. His impulsivity is off the charts and he reacts without thinking. As he gets older, bigger, stronger, I'm struggling to know how to handle his behavior as nothing seems to be working.
I need some time to myself. Time to think, reflect, reassess. I may have to break my "no workouts on weekends" rule.
I generally don't go out for a run or bike or lift weights on the weekends. I like to spend time with my family since the Husband is working or traveling and the boys are in school during the week. The thing is, exercise is my pressure relief valve. I can literally feel the stress melting away the further I go, the harder I work...but without it, I feel that the high pressure sensor arrow is all the way in the red, just moments away from a 3-mile-island meltdown. I can't control the situation we find ourselves in, but I can at least control my workouts.
This weekend, my oldest son went to his first sleepover. The house was peaceful and quiet. Even so, I was worried sick the entire night. Before leaving to pick him up, I called and the friends mom filled me in on the things that happened throughout the night. I had such high hopes for him. I reminded him to behave and follow their rules, I talked to the mother of the child whose home he was staying at, let her know about my sons issues, was reassured that it would be fine...all was not fine. She wasn't at fault, and I know we're not either, but it doesn't make the guilt go away. The sick worry that my son will hurt himself or someone else. It's always there. His impulsivity is off the charts and he reacts without thinking. As he gets older, bigger, stronger, I'm struggling to know how to handle his behavior as nothing seems to be working.
I need some time to myself. Time to think, reflect, reassess. I may have to break my "no workouts on weekends" rule.
No comments:
Post a Comment