Imagine being told it doesn’t hurt that much, when the pain seems unbearable.
Imagine being told it’s not that bad when they’re at their limit and completely overwhelmed.
Imagine being told to stop crying when crying is the only way to release what threatens to take them over.
Imagine being told, “it’s really easy” when they’re so frustrated and finding a task really difficult.
Imagine always being TOLD and not listened to.
Being conditioned to what is everyone else’s “normal” but not your own.
Being expected to fit in, rather than just accepted.
All because you’re wired differently.
I know, because it’s easy to forget…
Riding a bike, anything fine motor skills, regulating emotions, meltdowns, over stimulation, sensory processing are all things we work on daily. And some days it feels like he is moving from strength to strength, others I’m beside myself sitting back beside him. Even when he was a baby, I was tired but a soul kind of tired constantly trying to troubleshoot everything.
But hair washing is OK now, fear doesn’t grip me when he’s on the monkey bars due to his balance, he can handle loud noises, he falls into my arms and accepts help more, he takes a deep breath before reacting most of the time, social occasions are actually enjoyable and he has many friends now. I used to wonder if I’d ever be able to take him to a birthday party, now he asks us to all sing happy birthday. He is very artistic and loves numbers and telling stories to anyone who will listen. It’s been worth every second to see him blossom.
It’s soul searching digging for empathy when you’re extremely challenged by their behaviour, and I’ve made mistakes I’ll admit that, I’m still learning about him and myself.
I know this journey can be challenging, but these kids, the ones that feel it all are also the ones who enrich our lives. They don’t necessarily make the ordinary extraordinary, they remind us just how extraordinary the ordinary is.
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