Two years ago today, I posted a very long status on Facebook. I spoke of having a conference with Troy's teacher and finding out that while an increase in ADHD medication was helping his behavior, he was still not conversing with the other children and needed many accommodations in order to be successful. On that same day, I met with the special education teacher about Laura and found out that she had been so out of control in class that help had to be sent for the teacher. Next, I met with the school counselor--who had been working with both Troy and Laura. She suggested that Laura needed a special education counselor and that she foresaw years of intensive work for Laura and years of behavior difficulties. She also suggested that Troy could have Asperger's (this was obviously before the revised DSM).
At one point in the post, I wrote:
"I am so incredibly sad and frustrated and angry that they all have such mountains to climb. And I am feeling so unprepared and inadequate and hopeless.[...] I just wish it wasn't so hard."
I read this old post when I first woke up this morning, and throughout the day, I've read it six more times. When not reading it, I've thought about it.
Two years ago today, I had never even considered that Troy could be on the spectrum. Two years ago today, Laura was kicking people in her class and throwing such out of control meltdowns that extra help had to be brought in to remove her from the room. Two years ago today, every single day, I had bad news from school for one, two, or three of my children. Two years ago today, there was never a good day. Two years ago today, I truly did not know how to move forward or what to do next. Two years ago today, I felt like I could not do this. I was hopeless two years ago today.
In the last two years, my little family has made such tremendous progress that it is truly miraculous. It hasn't been easy. We have had amazing educators, therapists, specialists, doctors, and medications to help us. We've worked hard at home to maintain strict routines and expectations. Our journey is nowhere near over, and it is still a very challenging one, but I am amazed and grateful at how far we have all come.
We still have bad days. We still have really bad days. I sometimes cry. Sometimes, I get frustrated and angry, and I worry about what the future will hold for us. But those days are fewer and fewer between, and I can usually calm myself down with a nice shower and a good night's sleep. (A bit of ice cream helps, too!)
Looking back helps the most though. It's so easy to forget what has happened when and how much progress you have made. Recording it when it happens so you can look back at it later makes all the difference in the world. I'm not saying you have to be like me and share your life publicly on Facebook or on a blog. It can be a journal or whatever works for you. Writing, in itself, is so therapeutic. Looking back on the old events that you have written about is also therapeutic.
This does not just pertain to parents of special needs kids. This goes for everyone! We are all works in progress. I love looking at how far my children have come, but I also love to see just how far I have come! I no longer feel paralyzed with fear, feelings of inadequacy, or hopelessness. I have made great progress, too.
I understand that, at times, the past is painful to remember. It's not fun to remember feeling hopeless. But reflecting on the past can empower you by showing you just how strong you are and how much you have overcome.
So, I encourage you in someway, whatever works for you--to start jotting down bits and pieces of your day--the good and the bad! A year from now, two years from now, three years from now, you'll be glad you did.