I am a woman, I am a wife, I am a mother and I suffer in silence. I’m tired, I’m breaking down, I’m suffering and nobody knows it but me…
I weep daily, not always on the outside, but daily none the less and nobody knows it but me. I weep for my son. I weep for my daughter. I weep for myself, a lot, and that makes me weep for my husband.
I struggle with decisions everyday and nobody knows it but me. Doctors, therapies, medications, education, courses of action, the future. Sometimes, it’s too much.
I deal with pain, both physical and mental, and nobody knows it but me. Although I have spent thousands of dollars on my mouth, it still hurts. It still causes me problems and it will probably never be fixed. I have given up because I just have nothing left. My head aches daily from stress, fatigue and pain. My thoughts? Sometimes they hurt even more.
I’m scared everyday. I fear the future and what it will mean for my son. I fear the day that my daughter will surpass her big brother. I fear for the day when my son realizes what he can’t do. I fear for my own sanity, as the years are taking their toll. I fear my own mortality and what that will mean for my children. I fear my sadness, because it looms over me and gets heavier everyday.
I’m happy, at least once a day, and nobody knows it but me. My children make me happy, even on the rough days. My husband makes me extremely happy, happier than I think he knows.
I’m angry, everyday, and nobody knows it but me. I’m angry while I clean up shit. I’m angry that nothing gets done. I’m angry that no one can help me. I’m angry that I have to cook dinner again. I’m angry that I can’t change the things that I want to change.
I’m tired, everyday, and nobody knows it but me. I’m tired of the fighting. I’m tired of the behaviors. I’m tired of the doctors. I’m tired of the dentists. I’m tired of not being able to leave my kids alone, EVER. I’m tired of not being able to pee alone, literally. I’m tired of all the thoughts and I am just plain tired.
I love a lot of things and nobody knows it but me. I love the fleeting moments where my children interact together like normal siblings. I love the very few moments where I am not constantly on edge, wondering what is going to happen next. I love watching my husband interact with my children. I love the rare moments where my son’s autism isn’t in the foreground.
As a mother, I hide these things. I suffer in silence to benefit my family. I don’t let them know or see how hard things are for me. I keep them bottled up inside where nobody knows it but me.
Yet, we have to stop suffering in silence, because it doesn’t help as much as we think. It starts to seep out around the edges and becomes quite toxic.
Find someone to talk to, find a place to write things down. Try not to keep these things inside because they will overflow and you might explode at the wrong time.