Little Anxious Butterflies
Some might say that I’m a mess. That I can’t let go. Or, even that I’m just a bit weird. (Or maybe a lot weird. I can’t really speak to what people say about me.)
Still, I’m experiencing one of my life’s little pleasures right now: a stomach-twisting bout of anxiety.
As often is the case, I can’t quite pinpoint what is causing me to feel this way. I’ve felt that way off and on since yesterday’s post: feeling guilty about slamming the babysitter, making a poke at Creationism, afraid that people will comment and say that, duh, your child is autistic, or comment and ask me how I could write about autism is such an insensitive way. (I mean, I did use the word crazy. But, I wasn’t referring to autism as crazy.)
I woke up with anxiety. Decided to catch up on some mama friends’ blogs. The anxiety mounted as I read: maybe I’m not such a great mom, I don’t do things the way they do, I can’t keep up with my own flippin’ blog.
I couldn’t even spend the time to look for one of Paul’s butterfly photos. I had to settle for the a close up he took of a fly. Hey, maybe that’s more fitting.
So, yeah, I’m paranoid. If I let it snowball, I’d be practically rocking on the floor worried about what the neighbors have been thinking about the broken garage window we can’t fix. We’re horrible, horrible, penniless homeowners and I often fear that we’re bringing the surrounding property value down, down, down.
This brings me back to Silas.
We did, Paul and I, spend some of the night searching through “the book” and on the Internet. Nope. Not autistic. Not in my mind.
Still, and this could very possibly be a little something to worry about: he is my boy. My blood. My DNA.
And, I’m friggin’ crazy.
It’s not impossible to think that my son might suffer from anxiety or find it difficult to deal with the rush of his emotions. Because I’ve worked and worked and worked on my ability to present as normal and keep all my odd mental meanderings and obsessions wrapped up in a nice little bundle in my stomach (can anyone say ulcers?) and to be able to discuss in a normal way with normal people my feelings, I don’t think that I model inappropriate behavior. But, that doesn’t mean Silas hasn’t inherited my “condition”. I’m certain that I inherited it. Have maybe even taken it to a new level. So, why wouldn’t he?
I don’t know if this is something to worry about right now.
But, when do we start to worry about it?
When Silas is rocking on the floor, tear-streaked and gasping, worrying that he’s brought the intellectual level of the classroom down because he got a “B”?
I don’t know. I have often chosen not to think about it because I don’t want to look for things. To decide his fate for him. To even, maybe, push him toward a life of stomach cramps and second-guessing.
Still, a person very close to my son claims that she is seeing something very different about him. Very distinct from the other kids. Something that has her worried and leaves her wanting help.
I guess that’s disconcerting. Maybe that’s why these little– well, these giant– iron-winged, evil-spirited butterflies, have decided to play racquetball in my stomach.
I just want the best for my little boy.
I don’t think that’s too, too much to ask.
PS- We are bad parents. Silas is making some wild noise on the drum kit as he tries to find the beat to an old Outkast tune. It should be familiar. It’s about all he listened to en-womb. Maybe, that’s the problem…
February 6th, 2010 at 1:26 pm
You know what I think about the caretakers and their “theories.” However, there is no reason to beat yourself up with worry about this. Get him evaluated so that you do not have to have anxiety attacks about whether they are right or not. The evaluation will not hurt him, and it might help you learn some new things about his already awesome abilities. And then you won’t have to worry so much.
February 8th, 2010 at 8:34 am
Hey there – Love the photo of the dandelion with Silas in the background. I hope this gets resolved soon. When we left the hospital with baby Dora, the doctor who released us said “you know this baby better than anyone else”. That’s still true. We had to do an EEG for seizure activity, too – we had actually seen it – when Dora was really small. I knew what I had seen wasn’t normal, but somehow I knew she was also going to be ok – that what we were seeing was some anomaly that was going to resolve. The EEG came back normal. I think if you believe that Silas is ok, he is. But your friend Melisa has a good suggestion above – take him to your trusted pediatrician and get the worry resolved once and for all.
Love to see you here again!
February 10th, 2010 at 3:55 pm
What a great solution – I agree with the other comments Em. Take him to be tested – find out and feel better. When I was pregnant I was called back to the doctor because one of the tests came back showing signs of something wrong. I remember Corey being tested in Pre-K for development. They were a little concerned because she was average in most but behind in some things. Then she needed speech therapy for a while. This will not be the first time someone tells you something could be wrong. You know Silas for the beautiful boy he is – and always will be.