Fighting.

I feel like I've spent my entire life fighting.

Fighting with people.

Fighting my emotions.

Fighting to take control of things that are completely out of my control.

Fighting for what is right.

Fighting against what I believe is wrong.

Well, guess what? I am tired. Worn the hell out. Emotionally, physically, spiritually.

My husband has a traumatic brain injury. He may never work another day in his life. He can't drive or be left alone. He feels worthless and helpless to stop all of this.

I feel sorry for him.

My 12 year old son spent June, July, August, and September in a psychiatric residential treatment facility. He came home early October. When he was admitted his diagnosis was mood disorder nos and adhd. When he discharged his diagnosis was Asperger's Syndrome and sensory processing disorder.

Big difference, huh? He has spent the last seven years of his life misdiagnosed. I had to quit my job.

He is now receiving mental health therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy, and speech therapy. He is now homeschooled full time by me. He needs access to a variety of sensory manipulatives and exercises to make it through the day. He uses a weighted blanket when stressed. He has discovered a deep, soul inspiring love of music and that music keeps him grounded emotionally.

I have uncovered a protective, powerful, motherly love that has caused me to advocate for my son and his needs with great passion.

As a family, we are struggling financially. So much so that I feel all of the above has almost ruined us.

This is the first real, raw post I have written in forever. It feels good to write again. Maybe it will help keep me sane and help me avoid spiraling into another dark depression. So, if you promise not to judge me...I promise to be totally honest about this new season of our lives.

The Season of Fighting.