When kids are little, it seems that everyone is set on telling you to not worry. “Don’t worry they wont be doing _______ in college.” I guess its true, most kids probably wont be wearing diapers while walking the halls of high school, or college. And a majority probably wont be carrying their comfort items with them either. The thing with kids that are a bit …. Different than the normal, run of the mill kids is that no one tells you not to worry. They tell you to not let them do this, don’t let them do that, make them do this or that. Their reasoning? Quite simple. “You don’t want them to be doing THAT in college do you?”
The first time someone said that to me, I didn’t say anything. Honestly I didn’t know what to say, and was somewhat embarrassed that my kid was the only kid carrying his bear, box, blanket, or whatever he deemed important at the time. Now? I would have just smiled and said “If he makes it to college he can do whatever he damn well pleases.” Because some days, Im not even sure hes going to make it through grade school.
With Christmas on our heels, everyone is talking about the biggest, greatest, next best gift that their kid wants. Kids are running around yelling absurd things that they want under the tree, and many parents are wondering if they will disappoint if they don’t deliver.
Josh? Has never once said he wanted something. Hes never once begged to buy something, and never shown much interest in gifts, presents or new toys. Infact he would probably be just fine to let the whole gift giving/getting thing go. In years past, I havent pushed it. There have been bigger fish to fry and when Christmas rolled around, there were bigger issues pressing besides getting the kid to beg for a toy. Its just not something that was big on my list of accomplishments for him.
This morning as I got things ready to go for the day, I couldn’t help but wonder. What is his future going to look like? Its honestly the first time I have ever wondered or worried about one of their futures, because honestly getting through this day, this problem, this year has been a big enough problem to tackle. But the thought ran across my mind. It was only a brief moment of wondering, but something that followed me through the entire morning.
When I dropped him off at school I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like when he was in high school. Would I still be dropping him off? Would he ever reach the point of embarrassment that he is the only kid being dropped off at school by someone? Would he ever be asked questions that he didn’t know how to answer? Both the kids have been asked, at some point, in some variation about why they live with me, and they have both struggled with how to answer. Would he be in the same position some day? Has he already been? Does he have thoughts and wonders and dreams? What DOES he want for Christmas anyways?
I shouldn’t really worry about these things, because if I took the time to look back over the past years, I will be able to make remarkable notes on how far he has come since that first day he came here. But I do still worry. I worry that Im not giving him enough, that Im not encouraging him enough, that I don’t spend enough time trying to give him things that he can take into the world instead of just doing it myself…
There was a time, not too long ago, that I seriously worried he would be sporting diapers to high school and he really would not care. I worried that the bear would follow him all the way to college, and he would never make any friends. Before that I worried that I would always be dragging him (literally) to school and wondered just HOW I was going to drag a much bigger Josh. I had solutions, ideas, and fool proof plans that eventually fell through – because he eventually potty trained, his bear stays at home most days, and it’s the rare day that I have to drag him to school.
Because those problems have mostly sorted themselves out, I now find myself worrying about OTHER problems. I don’t know what his future will be like. I don’t know if he will ever make it to college. I don’t know if he will ever become a lawyer, a judge, a brain surgeon. He might be just as happy being a ride along in a dump truck. And if he is happy with that, then I should be too.
One of the many things that he has taught me is that happiness comes in many shapes and sizes. Happiness to one, is not happiness to another. Just because one likes something, doesn’t mean another will. In today’s age, its all about fairness, equality, equal rights. And while Im not against any of these things – I think that sometimes it gets pushed a bit too far. Instead of simply accepting kids how they are, guiding them down their own paths, and offering a strong hand to keep them from going too far – we try and force them into the molds and ideas that we would have for them.
Because if it makes ME happy then surely it will make him happy, when really, it should be the other way around.
No, Josh might not give a damn about any present under the tree. He might not scribble out giant lists of magical wants. He might not even ever demand a toy in the store. But that’s ok. Instead of forcing him into the mold of every other kid out there, I will try and encourage him and his dreams. Instead of window shopping, we might just go check out the construction project and lets face it, its one less store I will have to go in, one less crowd I will have to brave, and one less thing I will have to worry about.
I watch them, with great interest as they carry about their family life like something straight out of a movie. The endings are secured, the middles mysterious, and the beginnings exciting. They have the ideal job, the perfect family, and the best that money can buy. Their ideas are not too farfetched, yet they dream big and reach for the stars. They discuss the finer things in life around the dinner table, and read chapter books to their four kids before settling them into their beds for the night – with no fits, just shy of 9pm. The lights are out and they discuss the day over wine or tea. And just when the clock strikes somewhere around 11, they turn out their own lights and go to sleep before getting up and starting another ideal day.
Their house is painted inside and out – once a year. Their appliances are up to date. Their kid’s teeth are brush and flossed – nightly. And even the baby seems content with the routine.
And then there are the others. The ones who say they struggle. The ones whos struggles are plain as day – yet the answers to their struggles plain too. They seem to think they are failing, when really they are thriving, and if only they would believe those around them who continuously chant that they are doing ok! That the struggles they have are not anything new, and if they just hang in there a bit longer, the teenaged years will be over. Or the early school days will soon end, and that stage known as the terrible twos? It too shall pass, in the blink of an eye. Even when it seems like every day is a million years.
Meanwhile the clock hits 11:30, dinner is just finished being burned, and although they have just had a bath – the kids are nowhere near being ready for bed, and probably wont be for another hour. I wont read them chapter books before bed, and who knows the last time the house was painted. I don’t think Im failing, I know I am. I just don’t have the time, energy, or effort to put into not failing, when Im doing the best I can to just do what I do. What seems like nothing and everything all at once.
I never planned my life, but if I did – it wouldn’t look anything like this. I never planned on being a parent, but if I did – I wouldn’t have imagined this. I wouldn’t have picked to raise two kids that weren’t my own. I wouldn’t have chosen a death sentence for my own daughter, and I certainly wouldn’t have picked the world’s most complex diagnosis to try and unravel.
No, Infact, if given the option – I probably would have picked a life much like the first; A normal, decent, happy and ideal life. The kind that you have to work hard to get, yet are rewarded for.
But Im tired of complaining. Because this life. While difficult and complex, and funny at times – has shown me something different.
I have learned to appreciate what I have. I don’t take good days lightly. Happiness is not overlooked or taken lightly. A long day at work will mean a long day at home – but it also will mean a little more in the bank account. A loud house means I have two very active boys who are still here. Dirty dishes mean there was enough food to eat, and messy beds mean atleast someone attempted to sleep the night before. A full fridge means that we braved the store – and made it out with a few things in hand.
No, its not easy to try and navigate a world that is often so foreign to me. But I choose to see things differently, not because I have to – but because I want to. Because if I don’t, I will get myself so bogged down with what I don’t have, that I wont want what I do have. Because there is still so much, this side of the silver lining. There isnt anything I can do about the life I was handed. But I can choose the way I deal with it.
I fail, I screw up, I get angry, I get pissed off. I get jealous of others who complain about their seemingly simple lives, and I wish for things and people I don’t have. But it isnt going to get me anywhere. It isnt going to change anything. And while I could just sit down and feel sorry for myself, it isnt going to change things any. I don’t have to be happy, no. But it sure makes the ride a lot easier.
Josh is what most people would call, nonverbal. He doesn’t talk, but gets his point across. He understands what you are saying, but doesn’t communicate back with words that many understand. Most times, I understand where he is coming from. I get that he cant communicate with words, but that he understands them and I do my best to accommodate without holding him back. I give him the opportunity to speak his mind, the way he does, without words. And trust that in doing so I am helping him the best I can to survive in this world.
On the flip side, I love words. I hate reading, and would do without talking if I could. But words. They hold a real special place in my heart. I love to make words reach deeper than they were intended to, and enjoy stringing words together to make sentences that form paragraphs and so forth. Which is ironic, since I hated spelling and grammar when I was in school, and am still a pretty terrible speller. Its also ironic that my words support most of my down time, and trips. But that is beside the point.
And then there is this thing I call a curse 99% of the time. Something that I often assume many people have. Some call it intuition, others call it a sick sense. Whatever it is, I can usually guess fairly accurately, how a person is doing/feeling/thinking just by watching them. When someone enters the room – I can usually gauge them pretty accurately. It is mostly beneficial with Josh, who doesn’t have the words to tell me how he really feels. Just by watching his actions, facial expressions, and other body language – I can tell where he is coming from and where (most times) he is going.
But this often gets me in trouble. Because it doesn’t stop with Josh.
Friends, Family, Customers, Clients…I can usually read pretty far between the lines, and even if they wont admit to it, 90% of the time – I am not that far off base. So when a close friend of family member, or someone important to me – tells me that they are ok, when I know they are not…I react. In ways that I probably shouldn’t. I panic, I fear the worse, I run the other way, I shut people out, and bury my head. And usually a few days later it comes out – that no, they were not ok. And they fill in the blank that my mind has already filled in with the worst.
Usually its something fairly meaningless, but the fact that their actions and words were not meeting up was enough to send me into a tail spin panic.
Which is where I am tonight. Judging off of actions, and not words – because words have failed me, time and time again. My love hate relationship with them has spun me out of control many times. I want to trust them, I want to listen to them, and take them in – yet I have been fooled by them so many times, that I don’t dare. I carefully watch for actions, for eye twitching, and other signs of a “Im ok” person, that really isn’t ok.
Friends who say they will never go anywhere disappear seemingly over night. Family members who say they have my back run the other way when Im not looking. And people who say they are there for me – get distracted by something shiny and never return.
I love words as much as I hate people sometimes.
But even in saying that, I am reminded…that if I really hated people? I wouldn’t care so much about their unspoken thoughts that wreck havoc on me night and day. And while I really wish sometimes that I didn’t read so far into them, I know that if I couldn’t – I would miss out of learning so much about the one I really do care for. And if that is the only way he can communicate, effectively, then I will take the broken words, false actions, and devastating results.
Because I would rather hear what he truly has to say WITHOUT words, than listen to someone who has words with no meaning.
This evening, after everyone had went to bed, I went to find my old familiar memory stick. The one that holds the photos from the past. Of course, I couldn’t find it and went on a 20 minute search for it. And came up empty handed. Instead of flipping through the pictures on my computer as per tradition, I pulled out the small white box that holds the hard copies of every picture I have from those years, and a few others scattered in.
I flipped through them, looking for something, anything, to grab my attention. But the only thing that grabbed at me was the guilt. And regret. And frustration. Scattered among the memories were missed opportunities, anger, sadness and frustration. There were smiles, and happiness. But those smiles didn’t appeal to me tonight.
Im really at a point in life that I never expected to be. A unique place that seems neither right or wrong. A time where life is so busy I don’t have time to consider my actions, or question intentions. I decide on the whim, and do what seems best in the moment, and fail. A lot. In a few years I will look back and probably not remember this time.
I flipped through years of my life in a few short minutes. And then boxed it back up. Because really? What I was looking for wasn’t there. The answers arent hidden in a small white box. They arent buried in the past. They arent hidden in secret codes. What Im looking for isnt going to be found in dusty memories. What I think I want, isnt even there.
Because when I look over the pictures. When I flip through the two short years I had with her, I am not inspired to go out and be better. Im not encouraged that life will be worth something someday. Im just reminded of another one of my many failures. Perhaps my biggest.
On a day that should be filled with smiles and laughter, jokes and balloons…
I have two years in a small white box, and almost nine buried deep.
The day in and of itself is confusing to me, and Im never quite sure how to deal with it. How do you say “Happy Birthday” to someone you haven’t seen or known in forever, on a day that holds nothing but scar covered memories?
Its just another day.
A day that had potential at one point, but lost all that. Instead of celebrating with the people who I loved the most in this world, the ones who made this life bearable, and worth living…I will bury myself in deadlines, maybe frantically search for something as meaningless as a memory stick and call it a day. Because when its all said and done – that’s all it really is. Just another day. Another day closer to calling it quits. For good.
Happy Birthday my little one. There just arent words to say what I wish I could.
A few weeks ago, I poured myself a cup of coffee and walked across the street. Went down a small embankment, and sat near the water, watching and listening as the waves crashed on the rocks below. The air was cooler than normal, and much like the changing weather, I knew that things were about to get busy here. As if Summer wasn’t busy enough. I needed that time to prepare myself, mentally, for the changes that were going to take place.
As I got up to leave, having finished my coffee – I took one last look at the ocean, and told myself to get ready.
Its been nonstop since that moment.
The only thing clouding my horizon is deadlines. I have managed to get through the month one day at a time by telling myself that if I can keep up with the days tasks, I will be ok. And mostly, that’s been true. Ive been sick twice in less than two weeks, have more deadlines this month than I have all year, and have out of country guests in for an extended visit. All that combined with everyday life, two boys, and my regular job and life has been busy.
As tomorrow approaches, I have found myself thinking about what I want to say, if anything at all. The only thing that comes to mind is that I have so many deadlines due TODAY that I cant possibly think about tomorrow. I will deal with tomorrow, when it comes. And then? The guilt. I have to make time to think about them. I have to add it to my schedule. I have to carve out time for two people who mean the world to me, and yet. And yet I am too busy this year to even pause for a few minutes and pull together some semi coherent thoughts.
I don’t want to be one the kind of person who is stuck in the past, and always hung up on what happened. I always looked forward to the day when days like these would come. When I could go for days at a time without giving so much thought to the pain and emptiness. I longed for the days when, I no longer was haunted by the numbers, the days, the years. And yet, now that I have arrived – I am guilty. Because I am no longer crippled by the pain. I have to make TIME to remember. I am too busy with life, to remember them.
It always seems I walk these roads alone. No one else has ever had the problem of moving on TOO far. Is it normal? Is it ok? No one knows, and I don’t seem to care.
Yet somewhere, I think a part of me still does remember. Or atleast wants to remember. I want to remember…to an extent. I want to remember, but I don’t have time to get lost. I want to remember, but don’t have time to devote to taking myself back in time. Atleast not today.
It all sounds so very selfish, and bad.
So many years ago, life was so, completely different. Just last year – was so very different than this year. But to not stop, and pause, atleast for a brief moment to recognize and remember two people who meant and really, still mean the world to me – would be wrong.
Maybe its just to appease the guilt, and maybe its because somewhere deep down, I really still do want to remember. I just don’t know how. How do I remember somehow who has been gone so very long, and what good does it do?
On the eve of what would have been her 11th birthday, and another year having passed, I pause for a moment to recognize just how different life is. Both because of her, and without her. I recognize the deep ruts that run through my heart, and go deep within. And I realize that because of her, because of them, I am a much different person.
We are coming up on five years since Josh has been here. Earlier last night I was watching him do something, and realized just how far he, as an individual person has come. I was looking back at some old postings from those early months, and stumbled on a picture of two year old him. I laughed, and mentioned to a friend what I had found. Hes grown, these past few years, and not just physically.
And then she asked the question: Did you know he had autism then? I paused for a few seconds, because its not something I have ever verbalized. Its not something many ask about, and its not something I talk openly about. It is what it is, and I learned a long time ago that you cant stop to feel sorry about the way things are. In this case, there is nothing to be sorry for. It is what it is, and hes pretty great just the way he is.
But answering the question, led to more.
No, I didn’t know then. And if anyone else did, they didn’t say anything.
And its probably better that way.
When he was first diagnosed, a year after he came home, I read everything I could get my hands on. I bought books, read articles, scoured the internet. I wanted details. I wanted reasons. Ideas. Outcomes. Endings. I wanted a reason, and resources. I expected that since there was a diagnosis, there was a cure. There was a magic was to “Fix” it all. And some reason, I couldn’t find it.
I remember the day I finally tossed my hands in the air. After chasing this “Fix” in circles, I piled the books I had bought up and tossed them into a drawer, closed it and never looked back. While is may be symbolic, at the time all it meant to me was there were no answers. No one had any idea. The therapist I was looking for did not exist. It didn’t matter if I traveled miles to find them – they were not out there. And the only thing all the books, articles and research had taught me was there were no answers.
There was no one who was going to find him the help he needed, because there was no one who knew what help he needed. Everyone was doing their best and guessing, and coming up short. Autism is a funny thing. Because while it is a real diagnosis, there are no real answers.
Everyone has their opinions, ideas, and guaranteed solutions – but some work, and some don’t. Ideas are welcome, opinions important. But nothing is guaranteed. And nothing has made that more clear, than these past five years with Josh.
He is smart, he is funny, he is wild and loud but he is also quiet, and shy. He is strong willed. He is determined. He knows what he wants, and wants what he knows. And life with him is so unpredictable. Reading back over those first days, reading the frustration and confusion of wondering why, and what was wrong. Wondering what was happening, and how we would ever come out on top. Reading about our first success’, our failures, and everything in between.
I cant say these past five years have been easy. Because they havent. They have been hard, and I will be the first to say I have thought many times about rethinking this decision. But this wild, unpredictable life that is insane at times? Is perfect. And so is he. And I wouldn’t change anything about either one of them.
Driving through town the other day, windshield wipers routinely swiping across the window. Coffee long gone cold, I leaned into the steering wheel a bit harder and waited. Thinking about nothing in particular, my eye caught the colorful flash of a red coat flapping along side the road. Inside it was a little boy no older than 10. He seemed happy enough, walking along the sidewalk towards his home.
A few feet down the road, another group of kids running down the sidewalk towards their homes, jumping in puddles and laughing around.
I don’t judge other parents, mostly because I don’t know what is going on in their lives. I don’t know what has come together to make them make these decisions on the behalf of their children, and I certainly am not capable of making any better choices. I have my hands full with my three. But watching the little boy run down the road, my mind went to other thoughts…
Would there ever be a day where I could let him take the bus, both to and from school – alone? Would there be a day where I could actually trust not only him, but the world, that he would make it home safely? I have read stories. Stories about kids getting lost. On the wrong bus. Drivers mistakenly taking kids to other destinations. And while I know in a small town the dangers and worries are on a much MUCH lesser scale than that of a big city – but I still wonder.
Years ago, my friends got on the wrong bus and accidentally got off at the wrong stop. Their parents searched for them for hours – and it wasn’t until an accidental run in with another friend did they discover their kids were, actually, ok. But what if they weren’t?
There are so many what ifs when it comes to kids. So many dangers and problems, and things you hope to protect them from. There are so many things you know you CANT protect them from. So many dangers and fears, and worries. So many things that you have to set aside to simply let them grow up. Trust. You have to trust a world that has offered nothing for you to trust in. But if you let yourself think about all the things that could possibly happen – you would never let them leave the house again.
You can only do so much, for so long, before they grow minds of their owns, and start making demands such as wanting to be left alone. And while you know they need this, something still pulls at you – What if? What if something happens. What if the bus gets lost. What if the bus drives off the road. What if it forgets them. What if they get off the bus – and another car doesn’t stop. What if they forget their stop, and get lost. What if they get kidnapped. Or hurt. What if?
And that’s just for taking a bus a few minutes down the road. What about when they get older. And want to drive.
Much of the same conversations I had a few years, are repeating themselves now. Why don’t you trust me.
And much of the answers are the same. Its not that I don’t trust THEM. Its that I don’t trust the OTHERS. I don’t trust people as much as some think I should. I don’t give people enough credit, and am not open with them as much as some would like. I don’t freely hand over the keys. I don’t know everything that goes on in this world, or this town. But I know enough to know that I don’t WANT to know.
I know enough to know that the sight of a yellow bus, and a small child is enough to send my mind into over drive. Because while the day may come that I feel I can trust Josh enough to take the bus to and from school alone – I fear there might not ever come the day that I trust everyone else. And that in doing so, I will hold him back. Somehow.
That by protecting him from what I can, I am holding him back. Putting a damper on his life. That because he doesn’t talk back like every other 9 year old out there, I am taking advantage and not letting him be free. I want to let him go, its not that I want to hold him back. Its that I don’t want to lose him completely, and the world around me has not proven that they can be completely and openly trusted.
I watched the little boy run down the road and wondered if his parents faced many of the same fears I do. Maybe they fought with the decision, willing to give him freedom without losing him completely. Maybe they had no choice. And maybe this wasn’t even a problem for them. A fear they never had to face. Sending kids to school is a part of life. Riding the bus -a right of passage. Its just something that happens.
But Im not quite ready to give up the small bit of control I have.
Im not ready to add another fear, and Im not ready to have to worry, once again, if he will make it home or not. And since he really isn’t complaining that much – I will keep on driving him to school, walking him in, and spend the rest of the day worrying he made it home ok.
Because its all part of life, and Im not going to complain.
Ive been kicking around the idea of posting something or not. You see, I started this month with the full intention to write something everyday, for an entire month. Something dedicated to bringing awareness to childhood cancer. Some years, I don’t really want to say anything. I figure there is enough “awareness” to the dreaded disease, so I really don’t want to spend my time talking about it. But this year, I wanted to. I needed to. I HAD to.
But then, life got in the way.
And as we all know, sometimes life gets messy. And this month was messy. And confusing. And complicated. And it all went by so fast. Which is good in one way, and bad in another. All that is to say that as we close the month out, and I haven’t said but one thing – I feel the need to atleast finish strong.
I just read a post from a family who has battled childhood cancer in more than one way. Two sisters, whos sons both got cancer. One survived, and one didn’t. The strong feelings of confusion and guilt were just to much. I too have often wondered – why do some survive and some don’t? Why do the treatments work on some, and not others?
Just last night, as I talked with a friend who has an older family member, diagnosed with an incurable illness, it struck me. Just how short this life is.
Lots of people this year have been anti awareness. Claiming most are hoax, scams, etc. And maybe they are, maybe they arent. Im not going to spend my time trying to find out. All I want to say is that childhood cancer does exist. And it shouldn’t. And I don’t know how to stop it, and I don’t know what cures need funded the most.
But I also know – that life is short. So short. So instead of waiting for something tragic to shake your life up enough to make you realize it, let me offer a small bit of advice, for free: Life is short. Don’t wait until tomorrow. Life life to its fullest. And don’t leave room for regrets. No – it wont change anything. But it does make this life a little more bearable.
I don’t even know…what to say or where to start. As if Im writing to the future, I want to beg that it doesn’t go where its heading. That by some small miracle, things will turn around. As if writing from my past – I want to scream to STOP. I see the problem, I see the trouble, but I don’t know how to turn it around and go the other way. I yell but no one hears, I cant get the words to come out like I want, to say what I want, to mean what I want – because I don’t even know what I am trying to say except STOP. Just. Stop.
This isnt about me. And as often as I remind myself of that, I still find my selfish thoughts and wants getting in the way. I see much of the people I don’t want to become, coming out of me. And as much as I just want to STOP it all – I cant. I see the pain, and the frustration, and the anger and as much as I want to just slap it out – I cant. Because it isnt about me. It isnt about me fixing this, or making it ok. It isnt about me making the choice, or not. It isnt about me. Yet I cant seem to remove that from the equation.
Everywhere I turn, someone has the answers. The fool proof solution. The “This is it!” about everything. But I cant seem to put my faith in them. I cant trust them with this. I have trusted people before – and have come up empty handed. But once again…its not about me.
I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I understand, to an extent but not enough to know what to do or how to help. Im left staring stupidly waiting for the punch line, because I really just don’t see it. I mean I do? But I don’t. I cant. I cant get myself to accept it.
There are the things I want to say – the things that are supposed to be the right things. Things like “its ok” and “it will all work out” and “this will help.” Open ended answers that leave room for wiggle. But they just don’t seem like the right things to say. How can they be? If it were ok – we wouldn’t be here. If it would work out – this wouldn’t be happening. And if that would help? Then why am I sitting here trying hopelessly to find some answers.
I never claimed to understand it all, I never said I had all the answers. Never said I knew what I was doing, or where we were going. I never claimed it would be ok. I just hoped. Hoped that this would be the right answer to everything, and jumped in with everything because there was nothing left to do. I threw myself at the problem because there was nothing left TO throw and I hoped with everything I had left to hope with that it would be the right answer.
And there for a while – it seemed like it was.
For a while – it seemed like it was working.
And it seemed like everything would be ok.
How blind hope can be. Underneath the pretense of hope, and everything being ok – there was this. This problem, this doubt, this frustration, this anger. And not wanting to believe that it was there, I blindly accepted the hope and moved on. In hindsight I can see this now. But seeing a problem, knowing how to fix it, and actually fixing it – are completely different things. And I am not skilled in any of the areas.
We are back to square one. Left with two options, each holding a bag of pros and cons themselves. And while neither one looks very promising, I have to do the only thing I know how to do. And that is fight. And never stop. Because while it might not be the right thing, while it may end up going south, and while I may be met with a lot of hesitation, argument and “I told you so’s” atleast I will be able to rest in the fact that I didn’t give up.
You might be wanting me to. Everyone seems to think that this is the best option. Let you learn to sink or float, make you realize some hard truths for yourself, stop bailing you out, and walk away. But I cant. And while I know this isnt about me, I made a promise to never walk away. To never give up. And to never stop fighting, until there was nothing left to fight for. And while you might not realize it at this moment, while your mind me just be too full to completely understand this – you ARE worth fighting for.
I don’t mind if you are mad at me, I don’t even mind if you hate me. I don’t care if you resent me for the rest of your life for this. But I will never stop fighting for you, and I will never give up on you. I hope that someday you are able to take the fight over – that long after these hard days of uncertain circumstances have passed, you are able to pick up and carry on yourself.
No, it might not be the right decision. It might not be what you want, it might not even be what is recommended for you. But right now, its all we have. And while I cant promise you that everything will be ok, that life will go as planned and that you will succeed in everything you ever try – I can promise that with some hard work, and a little luck – it might just be worth it.
You may have given up, you may not see anything worth seeing right now but until you can you need to know that I will never give up on you, and I will never stop fighting for you even if you don’t see that. I know that right now you are looking for whatever you can to argue your case. That you will use whatever you can. And that’s ok. Get mad, but realize that by getting mad – you arent dead inside, there is still something there that cares and wants to fight.
Just because you have given up, does not mean everyone else ready for you to give up too. Hang in there kiddo, one day I promise you will look back and say that I might not be right, but I told you so.