My Worst Nightmare

(a mom w/ no filter - talking about my kid. TO. ME.)

We are enjoying a relatively symptom-free period at the moment, and I have been walking around with sunshine and rainbows and puppy-dogs floating around my head most days.  Yesterday, an encounter with Eli’s former classmate’s mother just took out a gigantic glinting cartoon needle and popped my balloon.

She’s never been my favorite mom; she talks too much, teases people even when it’s obviously beyond their comfort level, and says terribly insulting things in the name of being “straightforward.”  We said hello, and she asked about Eli’s new school, which came across as very thoughtful.  After I gave her a brief update, she tried to say something fairly positive, about how she was glad I had found the right school for Eli.  But what came out was something along the lines of how different he was, how public school was not for kids like him, and how crazy his rages were; the word “crazy” in reference to my kid came out of her mouth at least 5 times.

Per usual, I was dumbstruck and frozen, and had zero idea of how to respond.  I practiced mindfulness, checking in with my body (calm!), my feelings (shocked and annoyed, but not intensely angry), and my thoughts (“Wow – I can’t believe she’s saying this.”)  Then, I observed.  I watched her face, which was sincere (not mean), and listened to her, unspeaking, until she was done.  Then, I simply turned to our other friend and started talking about something else. 

Pre-DBT, I would been angry at myself, in the moment, and then all over again later on, for not knowing what to say right then and there.  Radical Acceptance – I am not the type of person who comes up with clever retorts in the moment, and that’s okay.  I need to take in, absorb, think about, mull over.  I now accept that that’s a perfectly valid way to react.     

Now that I have had 24 hours to turn it over in my head, here’s what I think:

I guess I knew it was common knowledge that Eli struggles with emotion regulation.  I didn’t think it was a secret…..but nobody has spoken about it in that way to my face before.  I thought maybe they didn’t think it was as bad as it was; or I thought maybe they weren’t sure.  I used to worry (a lot) about what the other moms thought of him.  I have let a lot of that go.      

I’m glad this didn’t happen a year or more ago.  I imagine that in the past I would have experienced intense pain, deep shame, and a good dose of self-hatred for my inability to handle it all with more grace/spunk/wit. 

I have gained so much strength from knowing other families in our position.  My skin has thickened against those who have no idea what it is like to live with this kind of brain, to have this type of complication in the family.  It makes sense that they would not understand – so why should I let their ignorant opinions cause me any grief?   

Most importantly, I am confident in the knowledge that my child is NOT less than others.  His neurological make up is a part of him; he did not choose it, he was born with it.  YES, it presents monumental challenges.  AND it also comes with rare gifts, deep sensitivity and a unique perspective on the world.  When I look at other kids now, with their perfect attendance and their sports trophies and their magical ability to shrug off slights, I’m not jealous.  I hadn’t realized it, but I was subconsciously buying into that societal bullshit that people who are organized/efficient/athletic/breezy are somehow more valuable than people who are spacey/eccentric/nonconformist/intense.  Recognizing that those messed-up values had seeped into my brain allowed me to purge them.  So having someone use less kind words to basically call him eccentric and intense?  I don’t feel attacked, I really just feel….aware of her lack of understanding.         

Last night, when I got home, here is what I wrote in my shocked state:

I am.  Here. 

I am.  Not as hurt as I thought I would be. 

I am. Fairly certain that anyone talking smack about my kid today will eat their words in 20 years.

:)