Sunday, October 30, 2011

Dark Imaginings on the Night Before Halloween

Well, it's almost Halloween, and I'm feeling dark, so I'm going to get a little creepy here.

And to begin, I have to tell you something that probably will clash jarringly with your notion of me; are you prepared? It's not creepy or spooky, it's just going to be hard for you to believe, that's all. You see, sometimes I ... jog.

I jog slowly, of course, with poor form, and not all that far, but I jog when I can in this large, urban crazyzone in which I live.

And even though I jog only in the daylight and only in places I consider relatively safe, sometimes I imagine what ifs, especially as I pass those who are faster, fitter, stronger, but appear (even) less stable than I am. You know, if for some unimaginable reason, someone wanted to do me harm, I wouldn't be that hard to catch, that's all I'm saying.

So today I'm jogging (let's just use that word loosely, shall we? but I am sweating) in the park past a fellow who very well writes poetry in his spare time but for some reason gave me the sense I should allow him wide berth and no eye contact, and I'm in the Halloween mind set after passing a picnic full of goblins and aliens, and I find myself wondering the darkest what ifs. And wouldn't you know it? They lead me back to autism. *I heard you just now when you said you saw that one coming.*

It went like this:
If I disappeared during this jog, would people search for me right away, or would they assume I ran off of my own accord?
And if they put me in the news, would anyone say, "I know she'd never leave her family! She must be hurt, we have to help her!" (Because I would NEVER EVER leave my family, I only like to joke about it!) Or would they say, "Well, I know her father ran off when she was little, so maybe..."
And would my Roo miss me, miss climbing in my lap and calling me wildly unpredictable nicknames like "Mama Mineral" and "My Mama Pajama"? Or would my Roo find more peace without being drilled on his lessons, more happiness without being nagged about taking on more responsibilities, more tranquility with just his even keel, level headed, serene dad?
And if they never found me, would my husband find dealing with autism easier without also having to deal with me-dealing-with-autism?

Okay, okay, calm down. Don't send in reinforcements. It's not as dark here as all that. It's just Halloween is all, and girl has to get a little noir once in a while. I'll try to come up with a bountiful pre-Thanksgiving post next time.

Monday, October 10, 2011


I feel quiet.
What else is there to say...
when my boy struggles in all the same ways only in new places?
What else is there to say...
about ending yet another day feeling like I failed him?
What else is there to say...
about all the mountains still to climb?
By now you have heard it all before...
school struggles, language hurdles, physical challenges
By now you have heard it all before...
bullies and judgment and exclusion.
I feel a lonely quiet,
and there is nothing left to say
that you haven't heard before --
just words to fill this void that quietly aches.
You can't hear the quiet, but I can feel it.