It’s just too much sometimes

Before I get these comments:yes I’ve already talked to my doctor about this and I’m medicated. I just need to vent.

I have a profoundly autistic son. He’s nearly 5. He’s non-verbal. Almost no receptive language. Will not potty train; been trying for years now. He’s very violent when he’s unmedicated. We had to get him on Respiradone at 4 years old because he kept hurting himself and those around him severely, including trying to hurt his brother who was an infant at the time. We’ve been involved with psychiatrists, developmental paediatricians, geneticists, autism therapists, occupational therapists, speech therapists, you name it we’re involved with them, since he was 2.5-3 years old when he was diagnosed.

I love him with everything in me. I will always fight and advocate for him. But sometimes I wish our lives could just be normal. I wish he could join the town soccer team, we could go to movies, birthday parties, holiday get togethers without it being a catastrophe. I don’t want to exclude him so most of the time we just don’t go and do something he likes instead. I wish he was closer with his cousins and his brother. I wish he could be friends with my best friends kids.

Sometimes it feels like we were robbed of our happy, funny, headstrong son. The way he used to be before he completely regressed into autism. Sometimes I don’t recognize him. Sometimes I’m scared of him.

For me, being an autism parent kind of feels like I was given a thousand grains of sand, and I held them tight, but somehow no matter how tight I tried to grasp them, they slipped through my fingers and I was left with 10 grains. I trudge through with my ten grains like every other parent does with their 1000, but I’m not told to behave like I only have 10 grains of sand. I’m told those 10 grains must preform like a full hand. And if you can’t do that, it’s your fault. You’re doing something wrong, or not trying hard enough, or your genetics failed your kid. It just feels impossible.

We have happy moments, sure. Some days are great and end in disaster and some days are disastrous and end wonderfully. But there is never a full good day. There hasn’t been in years. The bad outweighs the good, tenfold. It makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. We all try so hard every day, including my son, he tries so fucking hard every day. Where has it gotten us?

Idk. Just needed to vent. This shit is hard.