I am angry at God. Today I am just angry at God for giving my boy autism. Autism sucks! I don’t care what anyone says, autism just sucks. It takes every single thing and turns it on its side and make it horrible. Like everything is done through a layer of mud and grime.
It makes me sad every single day. It crushes everything I give it and makes everything jagged and hurtful. My son is angry. My son struggles daily to do those things that every other child does easily. We accomplish one thing and there are three more to replace it with. I feel like we are fighting a losing battle with no ending. It. Never. Ends.
I am jealous of other parents. They get to worry about whether or not their son will be on the baseball team. My son has to have adaptive PE! They worry about grades. My son struggles with simply writing his letters. He can’t focus. He can’t understand complicated ideas. He can’t even color. I want to rip something apart and destroy it, with all this anger.
Every dream we had when I was pregnant with him was destroyed when we realized there was something seriously wrong with him. No matter what we do, we don’t seem to catch up. And I am pissed at God for this. Funny, but I never got mad at God. Not once in the 7 years we have been dealing with this. I always asked for help, but I never once got angry. Now. Well, now, I’m angry. I don’t think I’m going through the 5 stages of grief, because I never denied his autism. I have always accepted that it was there. But today I have gotten to anger.
This is not fair. It will never be fair. I can not make it fair. And my baby, my sweet little gift from God (what Matthew means), suffers for it. The stress we deal with daily has started to take it’s toll. I am unsure how much longer our family can function under this stress. And I am angry and I am jealous. My throat is tightening with my sorrow. I worry daily. Hourly. I have no idea how to accept this. None.
