Opening the past…

So I’m not gonna lie. Doing a blog on my journey with my son and family scared me a lot. Scares me for being so candid and open. Scares me for sharing too much. Scares me for opening up my life for scrutiny. But the thing that scares me most is, revisiting and remembering and rehashing some of the painful moments. I think in order to survive we tend to take these painful moments and memories until a nice little box. We locked the box with the key or in my case that tape it and million times around so that nobody can get inside. And then we put it up on the highest shelf possible compartmentalize it if you well.

This is survival in order to move forward every day and not remember when you could’ve done things differently or you should’ve handled it this way or I wish things would’ve been different. I should’ve cut or whatever that makes life standstill. We compartmentalize in order to survive and move forward, and move forward in the healthiest way possible. So by doing this blog I am asking myself to take the box down, one by one, get out the scissors and cut open the tape. Peek inside and see what was happening.

I actually had a question from my son this morning that took me by surprise. Every now and then we talk about things that he may or may not remember. And sometimes he brings up things that I don’t think that he remembered and then all of a sudden comes up. Today he brought up his first mainstream school. Just basic questions on why he didn’t stay there, what did he do wrong, how come they didn’t like them there, etc. I look back and remember I was a completely different person then. I wasn’t strong or as strong as I am now. I was frightened and intimidated and reluctant. I think as parents we all find our voice eventually. But in the beginning it’s hard. And we let people push us around maybe willingly, maybe unknowingly, it doesn’t matter. Regardless the insecurities…