Not Numb

I am the one that waits.

I wait in traffic on the way to therapy.

I wait for the tantrums to pass.

I wait anxiously during the haircuts, dentist appointments, doctor’s visits, and in line to pick him up from preschool.

I don’t wait the same way, either.

Depending on the situation I can be waiting for Mason to finish his play time to transition to a new activity while drinking a relaxing cup of coffee, or I can be in the process of biting my nails off due to the nerves during a haircut.  And I wait until Mason’s ready to do everything on his terms.

I wait it seems all day long, all week long, all year long.

So, how do I make the days count when it seems like all I do is sit and wait for my son? I refuse to be numb.

In the world of Autism, parents have to choose every single day what battles they are going to fight, and which ones they are going to let go. Part of this process is becoming numb to the stares from strangers or the quiet whispers in the restaurants or even from family members.

However, what happens when you take this numbness too far?

This was my case. I took numbing myself to the extreme and then realized I was just going through the motions like a robot.

When my son first got diagnosed, it hurt. I had envisioned so many things that we would do together as a family and I was watching those dreams slowly fade away.  Instead of dealing with this pain and talking about it, I numbed myself. I became a robot. I had no feelings of overwhelming joy nor did I have feelings of overwhelming sadness. Problem solved. Or so I thought.

When you are numb, you don’t feel anything.  You don’t feel the pain that Autism can bring to a family, you don’t get hurt by the arguments with your spouse, and most of all, and it doesn’t affect you when you realize your son may never drive a car or live outside your home.

To me, it looked like I had solved all of my problems if I just flat out stopped feeling my feelings.

However, when I was numb, there are other things that I missed out on. I missed out on the contagious laughter and joy that is constantly being emitted from my son. I didn’t notice the small victories and high fives when he tries a new food, does something that scares him (like flushing a public toilet), or watching him play with other kids.

So, how do I make the days count? I refuse to be numb.

I feel the highs and the lows that Autism has brought into my life. When you start feeling again, you become human. I noticed during periods of numbness, the day would come and go and I would have almost no recollection of the events that transpired. I missed the low points of the day, sure. But I also missed the laughs and smiles.

Once I started to feel again, I began to notice both the highs and the lows of the day and you know what? I loved it, despite the bad times. Heck, I even cried on a more regular basis but you know what?

That meant I was human, I was feeling and I was making my days count.

Written by, Carolyn Mitchell

My name is Carolyn Mitchell and I am a teacher and have two children. My son, Mason is four years old and has Autism and ADHD. Mason was diagnosed when he was 3.5. I also have a daughter named Claire who is two.

Interested in writing for Finding Cooper’s Voice? LEARN MORE

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook and subscribe to our newsletter.