LOOK OUT!!! MY BLOG HAS BEEN INVADED!!! ;P lol, nope I just hit a dry season in writing & asked the hubby if he would take a shot at it. I know, scary right?!? Just mess'n, he's a great writer... & I swear I didn't put him up to the last paragraph of this post, which makes it all the more <3 All sap aside, da-da-dada!!! Adam in his Helvetica font... cuz he can't have mine ;p ...Captain's Log, Post 1
Beth has handed the reins of the blog over to me for a
little while until I run out of things to say, or you get tired of reading it,
or she finds something to say (not sure what will happen first). First thing is, for those of you who do
not know me very well, I am not as happy go lucky as Beth. I hope I don’t offend anyone with my
posts. I will be expressing
thoughts and feelings (barf) that I normally do not, anywhere …ever, at any
time.
I wanted to explain some thought processes that occur in a
father’s brain when autism is diagnosed.
The feelings that follow, and, in my cases, the anger that ensues.
In 2008, just like Beth, when we got the diagnosis for our
twin boys, I had no idea what autism was, what caused it, or how to treat
it. I thought that some magic
pills or quick therapy would take care of it. I was very emotionless when I found out, partly because I
was just reintegrating back home from my first “lovely” trip to Iraq. I had no idea what I was in for and it
was probably better that way (I still have no idea). “Fixing it” was my plan but I had no way of executing it
(the plan, not the…. well you know).
I thought “no big deal, not sure what autism is, but we can fix it,
right?” To my horror, this
mechanic cannot fix autism. After
the realization hit that I could not fix my sons, I became angry. I was already angry from just serving a
year in combat while others did not, in a war that… well… I may discuss that in
another post… anyways, I was angry.
Then I just became numb.
Numb to Carson, numb to the twins, numb to our newborn daughter, and
most harmful of all, I became numb to Beth. I was powerless, confused, ashamed, bitter, and angry. No one to blame, no one to fight, and
no one could help. At this point I
wish I could say that I reconnected with God and He led me to a better place
and all is well, but I can’t.
Combat and autism have brought me to the lowest state I could have
imagined, even to questioning the existence of God.
However, there has been some personal growth that I would
not have had if I missed out on autism (the jury is still out on the “good” of
combat). My measure of success has
been dramatically altered. For
example, if Devyn just tastes a different food other than one of his six staple
things, we get very excited. Every
time Devyn talks unprompted, I regain some motivation and even smile. Instead of having a larger TV, nicer
truck, a man cave, or any “normal” goals a man might have, I throw money at an
additional therapy or something, hopefully fun, that all of us can do
together. I am not saying that
there is anything wrong with those goals… it’s just not for me.
Another positive is that autism keeps me thinking about what
is next, looking forward. In the
army I have learned to plan, and plan, and plan some more about what might go
wrong with the other plans. This
has helped tremendously in the world of autism because I have had to fix things
I would never have imagined before.
For example, the twins got a renovated room over Christmas break. It was not what I had planned. I am probably one of the only people in
America that is putting up paneling while everyone else is tearing it
down. The reason I put up paneling
is that Devyn hopefully won’t bust through it as easily & it should prevent
him from chewing on something not good for him, like drywall. This is just one of many stories.
Finally, it has kept me focused on here and now. Beth and I have had to discuss the
possibilities of inpatient programs and other scenarios. We talked about when, why, and where do
you draw the line as far as safety for the boys and the family. We have a unique ability to discuss heart-wrenching
topics very matter-a-fact like in a similar way other couples discuss vacation
plans or sporting events the kids are apart of. This is one reason that I am still angry. I am not angry with God, the twins,
Beth, or anyone… just angry.
I don’t think I have ever asked the “why” …however, I have
asked on many occasions the “what now?”
Sometimes it is a hopeful “what’s next” but most of the time its “how am
I going to fix that and how much is it going to be to fix and how do I stop it
from happening again?”
Unlike Beth, I probably will not be ending posts with an
upbeat sense of the future. There
are times… most times to be honest… I just struggle to get through the hours of
a day and try not to think about “what’s next”. I have added a step to the grieving process, or taken away
one, apathy. It is very difficult
to get out of when you have been stuck in it for so many years. Beth is amazing and loves me no matter
how bitter, angry, and apathetic I am most days, but I am slowly digging my way
out.
Couldn't resist: Second deploy, on leave.
That smile says it all :D
