The Human Body can only take so much abuse.
You know, I try so hard to be organized. Some days it seems like I am really on top of it. It feels good to be ahead, to be getting shit done. Oh, but then… something will happen to throw me off course. It can big, it can be little, it can go unnoticed… but suddenly I find myself struggling to get control of it all again.
Tonight a burst of inspiration hit me and I was getting more writing done than I have in months… it’s actually for a non autism project, but important. And shit was gettin’ done! THEN A SCREAM.
My autistic son has learned that screaming gets results. Of course it does. He can be loud. Some of it makes me laugh, like the middle of the day request for a Kleenex. You Normals out there have children who may, perhaps, walk out into the living room and say, “Mummy dearest, I request a Kleenex for my runny nose” –I get “KLEENEX” screamed louder than you can imagine. During the day it doesn’t bother me.
But see, day or night my child has needs. And the human body is equipped with the fight or flight response for good reason. Trust me, screams in the middle of the night, while your mind is sleeping, body relaxed, defenses down… activates the fight or flight response. His middle of the night screams?? “FIX THE COVERS!!” The first scream wakes you –you know someone screamed but you don’t know why… this is followed by a second or third before the fog wears off and you realized that NO, you aren’t going to die (not from the imminent danger anyway –the heart attack, maybe), but that your 15 year old is not capable of fixing his own god-damned mother-fucking covers.
Well, I just got a “FIX THE COVERS” in the middle of my roll and it stops me dead in my tracks. I was mid-loud-yawn and didn’t hear the details –just the scream, much like if I had been sleeping, it startled me. I go in there, agitated… no longer sympathetic that he isn’t feeling well, or that his vaccine injuries have left him unable to know any better. But I am not agitated with HIM, I am really angry at the fucking bed. The sheets don’t fit the mattress well, I find myself making that bed fucking constantly. I want to smash it to pieces, throw them all out the window and set it on fire. I want to sit and watch the fire burn with a bottle of rum in one hand and a stick roasting marshmallows in the other. FUCK THAT BED!
I used to think I would die tripping up the stairs, falling over and impaling myself on a pencil –for example, as I am very klutzy. Now I am just sure that one day –soon, my heart is going to say, “Fuck it, I quit!” How long can we survive when we are shoved into fight or flight multiple times a day? Some of you who are on my facebook page might remember what happened last fall when something that shouldn’t have upset me, caused a fight or flight reaction and I couldn’t shut it off… adrenalin kept surging, for hours. Finally a friend came by and we drank rum and laughed and several hours later I was finally calm. It took alcohol and hours of laughter to come back down. I thought my heart would explode, my skin stayed bright red for hours.
Cortisol. My real enemy. I know in a past post I talked about the study that showed the mother caregivers of special needs kids have telomeres that age 6 times faster than those of the Normals. Thank Cortisol. I hate it the most for the belly fat. When I lived a stress free life my ass would get fatter, sure. But never before this mess did I have belly fat. Even now as I have been losing weight, I look at it –it taunts me, and I swear it has decided that it will be the last to go… Fuck Cortisol. I get derailed so easily… my concentration is blown. It gets harder and harder to get back on track. Oh, thank cortisol again.
I don’t know… you think you’d be able to rationalize it all with your inner primal self, “Ok, look body… I KNOW you THINK that the shit be goin’ down, and we’re all going to die… But it’s 2012 and we don’t sleep in caves anymore and wild animals aren’t going to come and eat us in the middle of the night. If you hear a scream… it’s just the fucking sheets on that fucking bed. DON’T PANIC”
Yes, I am going to try that tonight –a little mind over matter. I am going to try to sleep now, even though my body is still telling my brain to arm myself and get ready for battle. And tomorrow I will try to get caught back up when all I really want to do is sleep for a couple days straight. –Well, that and lie in bed watching Jeff Goldblum in The Big Chill. That clip is really my favorite line from my favorite movie from my favorite tall, lanky, geeky guy crush. I *HEART* Jeff Goldblum. I can admit it.
P.S. Is it time for Chicago yet?????? I need a drink!