Today’s post is a guest post from someone who could relate to my recent stories about my own mental health issues (and the decision to use medication as part of my treatment).  I thought it segued nicely from my most recent post about my complicated relationship with natural health.   I think a lot of parents out there will be able to see themselves/their child in this story.

Here I am, where I never thought I would be. I have a child who is not receptive to my magical way with children. This was one of the hardest things I have ever had to deal with as an adult. This child is not just some child off the street who didn’t connect with me, as a teacher or mentor, whose family decided I wasn’t a good fit for them. This is a child born of my womb. He is beautiful. He is creative. He steals the hearts of anyone who gets to know him. But he was not connecting. There was no amount of cuddles and love that happened between us that helped change him into a well-mannered, calm, sociable child. He was not receptive to my parenting.

Before you start telling yourself , “She is obviously a self-centered, egocentric know it all”, I need you to understand that I love to be challenged and questioned. I am always looking to be better. I altered my parenting as much as I possibly could, but no amount of parenting was going to take the Sensory Processing Disorder out of my child. I tried love. I tried diet change. I tried firm (read gentle, but firm) discipline. I tried therapy. I even attempted school. I tried isolation (for his and his friends’ safety). I tried simplification of everything from his schedule to his lifestyle. Minimalism is a way of life for us.  I was willing to try anything a pro thought would help. There was just NO WAY I was going to medicate him for anxiety.

The fact is, Sensory Processing Disorder is not something that has a quick fix. It is not something we can change about a child. Imagine walking into a room and feeling every ounce of energy in the room; all the sadness, excitement, anger. You name it, you feel it. Imagine there are 10 people in the room and half of them you do not know, but you feel their energy. You feel it fully, as if it were your own. Imagine seeing every color in the room. The slight hue of blue that is different on one wall than another and the orange that makes a friend’s red hat slightly brighter than his friend’s red hat. You hear every thought, as if they are sounds coming from the company’s mouth. Imagine trying to organize those thoughts and do so before you forget what you wanted to say.

How do you feel? Are you feeling anxious? Not sure what to do? Imagine that the adults in your life don’t understand this about you. Oh, your mom does. Your dad does. Imagine feeling so much love for them, but hearing them have to explain you to other people. Imagine feeling their anxiety about how people will take you. Imagine hearing a grandparent who barely knows you tell your mother that she had better get control of you before you run the house. Imagine being asked why you cry so easily. Imagine a child of the same age hitting you as a game or teasing you for fun and the adults doing nothing. Imagine that everything you know in your heart is wrong or sad or unhealthy is ignored by the masses.

How would you feel?

I am guessing you would feel anxious. Well, you know what? I can protect him from all of these things. I can keep him safe and only with people who understand him and offer him grace and see his beauty. I will keep him near people who see that he can take 3 combined Thomas the train puzzles with slightly different hues of blue in the sky and put them together faster than I could put one together, by seeing the difference in the back ground. I can manage his people to be only those who offer him calm. Guess who that would eliminate from our life though? Probably you. You might not realize that you make him anxious, but just wearing the wrong pair of shoes can make his senses go haywire. Bringing his favorite snack can make his senses explode.

So, you know what? I am going to ask you NOT to give an opinion on my parenting around him. I am going to ask you not to offer an opinion about him. I’m going to ask you to not bring his favorite snack. All you will do is build his anxiety. All you will do will make him feel those huge emotions even bigger than he normally does. You know what happens then? He does what we call cycling. He tolerates nothing. His senses go haywire and he becomes someone watching his body from the outside. After his body takes on a mind of its own, he feels anxious about his actions and he goes more haywire. He becomes completely out of control and he HATES it. The more out of control he becomes the more anxious he becomes. It is a spiral. It comes on quickly and no one can stop it. Trust me: I. Have. Tried. He. Has. Tried.

So, let me go back. I can eliminate all people and activities and things that make him anxious. I can. It is what I have done in the past. I can eliminate his life of anything but where this Orchid child is protected and safe from people who can not offer him grace. It is so tempting to go for the long haul and protect him and guide him and hope that once he is an adult, he will be able to filter the information flooding his brain. Or, I can help him now. I can help him learn a new norm. I can let the doctors medicate him. I can let him live in society and still feel his emotions and never punish him for them; because that is the stupidest thing I have EVER heard. Whether you believe in punishment or not, punishments are NEVER for emotions.  Punishing a child for feeling is asinine. That is all I have to say about it. I will not punish my child for feeling beautiful, healthy emotions; but if I can help him feel safe NOW and feel those emotions a little less NOW… if I can turn down the volume just a hair; why wouldn’t I? And, you know what? It took me three years to accept it, but my child is happy and in control of his feelings. I have medicated him and I am proud of myself for coming to this decision. I am proud of myself for taking this long and trying anything and everything to help him. I am proud of myself for saying “my child needs help that I can’t give him”. I am proud of myself for parenting my Orchid child the way he needs to be parented. I am proud of myself for knowing that my child is more than his SPD and his anxiety.

It turns out that my child has heard everything we have been teaching him. He heard it. He felt it. He saw it. Now, he can express it. It won’t be linear. It won’t be consistent and it won’t be forever. We will still need to make and cancel plans at the spur of the moment. I know that probably bothers you.  But guess what? Now, he enjoys jokes, family barbecues, athletics, friends coming over and, selfishly; me…

and maybe even you.

~ Anonymous