Being the mom of an autistic child can cause one to lose who they really are. That is what has happened to me. If someone were to ask me “What do you do? Who are you? What makes you, you?” I would have to answer that I am the mom of an autistic son. I wouldn’t answer that I was the mom of two boys or Larry’s wife. I was simply Matthew’s mom; the boy with autism and the mom that lived autism.
Thursday night our local chapter of the Autism Society had a meeting discussing “Happiness as a Renewable Resource”. I went. I’m really glad I did, because this meeting opened my eyes to something I had known was there, but was unwilling to admit. It reminded me of a smoker that knows all the reports of how smoking causes cancer, how it smells bad, and that it costs too much. But they still continue to smoke. Then one day, for some of them at least, something clicks and they realize that this is no longer how they wish to spend their lives. Well, that is what happened to me. I have known for a very long time that I haven’t thought of myself as being worthy, of needed care. If I considered doing something for myself I would feel guilty for having fun while Matthew was living with Autism. I had no right to enjoy myself, or to consider myself, because my baby was still autistic. And no matter how often people told me that to take care of my family I needed to take care of myself, no matter how often I was told I was worth it, I just couldn’t commit myself to the idea. Instead I would allow everyone else in the family to enjoy what they wanted to enjoy, and I silently slipped further and further into the abyss. I had lost myself.
I won’t say I was actually depressed, but I was probably pretty close. My emotions were so tied up with Matthew’s daily progress or regression. If Matthew was having a good, “on”, day, then I was happy; I was high. But if he was having a bad day, then I would be sullen, sad, or even worse, I would be angry. Often things were even worse and Matthew would cycle between being “on” and “off” within one day, and my moods would swing with him. It became physically exhausting, the adrenalin highs and lows would drain and sap my energy. I lost interest in most things and I was allowing myself to grow fat and flabby. Food was one of the few things I still enjoyed. I didn’t have the strength to diet and control my weight while struggling with Matthew’s autism and the emotional stain it placed on me.
But this meeting; it brought something back in me. It opened a window and allowed new, fresh light to shine into my mind and my heart. I listened to the other parents talk about their struggles, their fears, how they are lost too. I was one of them. They were like me. I was not alone in my feelings. They could open my eyes. Like Jesus removed the scales from the eyes of the blind man, my eyes were opened too. I listened to the lecturer and her suggestions for how to bring happiness back into my life. She said something very interesting. She said that 50% of our happiness is just innate; the personality we are born with. Another 10% comes from our circumstances, such as having a child with autism or having lost a job. Finally, the last 40% comes from how we choose to be. That is, it can be our decision to be happy, like a habit we can form. I liked that. I have control over at least 40% of my happiness, and probably more than that because I’m pretty sure I’m not 50% unhappy by nature. That was wonderful news. 40% is a lot in the grand scheme of things. And she also gave us suggestions on how to form those new habits. One suggestion was to simply decide on a way you wish to be each day, such as today I will be patient. Interestingly, by simply saying that you will be patient seems to help a person actually be more patient. I could choose to be happy or kind, forgiving or joyful, or any number of things. I tried it and it seems to be working. At least it is helping.
I have also made the decision that I am worth it. I am worth the effort and I need to take care of myself so that I can take care of my family, and so I can be happy. What good am I to them if I am not happy, not present, not actually part of their life? What good am I if I am not living my life too? Not much good at all. I have decided I will get back on my diet (I actually started up again today), and I will start exercising again. I have started to wear makeup again and to try to do my hair. I want to be happy with myself so that I can be happy with my boys and my husband. And it seems to be working. I have lived for hope with Matthew, now I am living with hope for our whole family.
