Diet & Weight Magazine
Written by: Cathy Shuba
“Happy Tuesday!”
I cried Saturday night! I cried Sunday morning! I cried off and on Monday! I cried because I had courage!
When I drank, I never cried! I thought you were weak if you cried! I thought there was something wrong with you if you cried! I thought tears were a sign of no self-control! When I was upset, I never cried! If I was embarrassed, humiliated or disappointed I never cried! I thought I was courageous! However, what I really was feeling was scared, lack of self confidence, lack of self worth, fear of the unknown, sad, disappointed, angry, resentful and mostly not having the courage to be honest with my true feelings. I still controlled me! I still controlled my feelings! I still controlled! I was a stuffed person full of tears that never allowed it to flow naturally but held it by control, ego and pride! I thought I was strong and courageous! I thought many things that really brought me back to the same thing,…numb! I practiced my controlled ways for so long I forgot how to feel, when to feel and what to feel. I was so numb that if a truck hit me I would lye there on the pavement as though nothing had happened. By numbing me, hurt me! By numbing me, lost me! By numbing me, vacated me! By numbing me, distorted the courage in me!
What caused me to cry? Saturday was my sons Confirmation retreat. My son, who is autistic, had much anxiety to attend an 8-hour day followed by a mass then a dinner. For those of you who understand Autism know what type of anxiety my son was having. I offered to go with him for support but my son is in that age group that wants his independence. I was proud of his NOT codependent attitude! His retreat began and went as I picked him up 8-hours later. We all went to mass then to the dinner. My son said he enjoyed himself but was very quiet. Actually all the kids were quiet. Quiet to the fact as though something was wrong or something went wrong! I sat an observed and still had that feeling inside. We eventually came home and there it was my son had a major melt down! My son came to me and told me that at the end of the retreat the Catholic priest kept picking on him. He kept asking him questions that he did not know how to answer or perhaps answered them in a way that the priest did not like or did not agree with. My son then became to main subject of the discussion. The catholic priest asked my son if he thought sex was good or bad. How do you answer that? My son said that sex is good, because if it was not good, we would not all be here! The priest became hostile and told my son he was wrong. The catholic priest continued to say that he could ban him from making his Confirmation and to leave the room. Not to mention as my son was leaving the room the priest stopped him and said to my son, “Are you embarrassed yet?” My son told him no but he was worried! My son continued to tell me that as he had him in the hallway the catholic priest continued to tell another kid in the hallway to stay away from my kid and that he is trouble! My son was mortified, humiliated and embarrassed! My son had so much anxiety! “Oh yeah, did I mention the priest did this in front of 30 plus some kids?”
I started to cry as my son continued to pour his heart out to me. I started to cry because I felt my son’s pain, humiliation, embarrassment and fear altogether at once. I started to cry knowing what happen to him will always be with him. I started to cry in my fear of how it may affect my child in the future. I started to cry because the catholic priest should have known better. I started to cry because my son was hurt. I started to cry because it is so hard for my son and me to let people understand just how difficult it is living with Autism. I started to cry in order to be honest with my feelings, myself and with the situation. I started to cry in order to feel free! I started to cry to share my grief and compassion with my son! I started to cry to heal within! I started to cry because I am no longer numb! I started to cry! I cried with courage! I shared my courage with my son,…what a gift! My son is a gift!
My courage allowed me to have compassion, love and sympathy. My courage allowed me to heal from all the past hurt, times of my humiliation and times when I may have never had the courage to cry. My courage allowed me to see the message in such a negative, upsetting and shocking incident that happened to my son. My courage allowed me to be strong! My courage allows me to write today and share with all of you my tears. Today I speak of courage! I have courage!
Today, I will run and remind myself of my courage and know that no matter what happens my tears will help me heal in a way no one will ever understand. Will you try to be courageous today? I am grateful for my tears! My tears are courageous!
Lastly, I did speak with the catholic priest about this situation. I will write about this in my next blog post. The story will continue!
