I recently took Little One to see a social worker to make sure he’s ok. I think she worked more with me than him during one of the sessions . She told me something that I don’t think anyone has ever said to me: that I’m grieving. Or if someone has said it, I wasn’t ready to truly hear it. Sure I’ve even said it before, that every time B gets a new diagnosis, it’s like we grieve all over again. But I don’t think I’ve ever realized that I never stopped grieving. Small things set me off into crying “fits”. I bawl when I see Little One ride a bike and B can’t even figure out how to make the peddles move. Grief? She said that when B was kicked out of residential treatment, we grieved because we finally got a chance to see what our lives COULD be like without B. The house was full of smiles and laughter. It was freedom to do things. It was freedom for J and I because we could go out on dates. It was freedom because we knew that everyone was safe. I feel like it fits my emotions, my turmoil and even my inability to connect with friends who have neuro-typical children. Of course I realize it’s not just grief. I’m angry, and jealous and utterly broken when I hear them talk about their “normal” children. I know I need to work on that. My heart breaks when I hear people complain their normal child isn’t at the top of their class for reading (it’s happened. I spent the next two hours bawling because I was jealous and told myself I’d do anything for that to be me). Grief, grieving, dealing with a constant loss of the life I envisioned for myself? The life I envisioned for my B? the life I envisioned for the other two? It almost feels like that one word opened up a dam in me. One I didn’t know was there. I haven’t stopped crying since she told me. J says I look like crap (he says it with heart not maliciously if that makes sense? ). I’ve been dealing with my own depression over the past few months that seems to just be growing despite now being on medication (Zoloft) to help control it. I went to a single session counselling this week. I left feeling worse that when I went. She somehow managed to make me feel so completely inadequate. It was really hard for me to do that, to do something specifically for me to help just me. I won’t be going back. But I do need to find someone who will understand or at least try to empathize with me about what I’m going through. Someone that doesn’t cost an arm and a leg cause mental health services are expensive ($100-140/hr). Grief? Have I been in denial this whole time? Have I been angry and hurting because of grief? Could it really be that simple? And if that’s the case, how do I learn to move forward? How do I learn to truly accept it and move forward? I know that I need to work more on me either way. I think that I’ll start with spiritual healing. Every part of me feels so broken. Maybe if I can heal my spirit, the rest will follow?