This week I am starting a thing, apparently, releasing PSAs and shouting stuff. I feel like I am actually on a platform this particular go. I probably have many feet to build on before I am at center stage, but it is clear to me that I do not recognize the territory. So it must be new. Hell, I may never make it all the way up to center stage. But I am on a stage, nonetheless, and one I am extremely grateful for. One that inspires me to do what I do because I wholly, deep down love doing it.
I press myself to remain in some clear space, with zen vibes or whatever you call it now? I want so badly to have calm in my life. But I have anxiety. And one of the ways that I try to keep it from crippling me is by writing. So you will see PSAs or read things that sound angry or highly-opinionated but that’s so that I can maintain those vibes when the things I am writing about are actually actively pissing me off.
On the subject of handling my child and her behavior in public, for example, I have this to say: I actually REALLY don’t care about you or where you are going. My child is more important than you. But the look on my face at the time these things occur is the look of a grown woman who is on the brink of either hyperventilating, crying, or cracking up maniacally. Honking at me while I have her in the car? You better be sure your ears won’t start bleeding from the sound. I will never start screaming about it, though (alright, maybe once in a while), because I am tongue-tied with unnecessary panic and hatred for your ignorance whilst trying to operate a two-ton vehicle. So I come home, I sit at the computer, and I rip you a new one. And I know that someone out there reading this is the person honking. And that brings me comfort because as a human, I want to be heard.
Same goes for your judgment faces when I am desperately trying to wrangle my child in a restaurant or on a train. I don’t care if you don’t like her screaming. She is a child. I don’t like hearing you complain about the wallpaper in this diner, Austin, but here we are. I will never tell you the rage that your dumb face gives me. I can’t. I have to maintain my focus on her so we aren’t on the five o’clock news. But I come home and I tell you exactly what I think of people like you on here: Rude.
I think it is also important to disclose that I am not mother of the year and I do not pretend to be. Nor am I human of the year, none of us are. I have simply reached a point where I am trying to understand why people say the things that they say or react in a certain way when it just doesn’t seem right or fair. And I channel those questions around my parenting and how I interact with the world around me when things don’t seem right or fair; then, they are all shared with you so that I can spend these actual instances in real time focusing my strength on what actually matters. Being the bigger man, so to speak. Teaching love and patience in those moments because she is always watching. And as autism has a tendency to cause anxiety as it is, I don’t want her to learn even more techniques in the art of panicking by watching me meltdown. I have made it a mantra this week. If it isn’t serving my life’s final purpose then there is no reason to panic about it. If having words with someone or being disrespected (or perceiving that I am because of crippling anxiety) is not going to directly affect the future I want to build, then it is not worth storing up that stress. And if I start to store it, as this will not be easy, that’s when I write it all down.
Whatever I write herein is also my opinion and I just hope to speak for anyone out there who shares that opinion and may have a harder time expressing it, especially other parents as I have mentioned before. If I persuade you to my side of things, that’s cool, but that is not solely what I am out to do. Sure, I hope that we could all subscribe to what I am preaching. I wish I could one-hundred percent subscribe to what I am preaching. But I’ll do my best now and going forward. And I hope you will keep reading about it.