I have pep talks I give myself.
I’m kind of a pep talk queen. I say that modestly, but really, I’m super good at summing up all of the good things going in any situation, and reciting it back in a cheerful tone of voice. People seek me out (and by people, I mean my mother).
But either way, I also find that I’m better than almost anyone at cheering myself up when I start to sink down into a vague depression about Sam. Because sometimes, it’s hard not to fall into it. It’s hard not to just feel SAD about the struggles he faces, about the roadblocks that he’ll have to overcome and to question why it all had to happen to him. My sweet, sunshiney little boy – why does HE have to struggle with all of this?
I had bad dreams last night. Not terrifying, horrible dreams, but unpleasant ones. I dreamt about Sam starting to have seizures, and holding him while he shakes. And then when I’d pull myself out of the dream, I’d start panicking about all of challenges ahead of him.
The reality is that we’re all born with a certain set of challenges and advantages ahead of us. We are born into a family that’s either incredibly supportive and loving or abusive and brutal or somewhere in between. Sam’s got Marc and I, and we’re both incredibly smart and focused and involved in his education and emotional health. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m really in-tune with him emotionally, can pick up on his cues and usually alleviate his anxiety and fears quickly and with minimal embarrassment for him. He’s got strong, loving relationships with all four of his sisters, and is especially close to Jessie and Julie. He’s intellectually curious, and picks up information easily and retains it well. I don’t know if he was an auditory learner before the accident, but he absolutely thrives at being able to retain the information when he hears it out loud.
I’m still sad today. Which doesn’t help anyone. But the reality is that Sam does have so much going for him – so much more than most people do. He’s a smart, smart kid, with a huge heart and so sweet. He’s got me – and while I may feel as though I’m stumbling thru this, the truth is that I’m right here beside him, fighting for his education and his emotional health with all I have. We’re light years better than we were at this time last year. We’ll be in an even better place by next year.