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Autism, Motherhood, Police Wife Life; Owning Your Vices

1/15/2015

I'm not one on that whole "resolution" team when January rolls around. I know myself well enough to know what an utter failure I am when I decide on change due to a date on a calendar vs. when I'm actually ready. I think sometimes all aspects of our everyday life need to collide in one huge cluster "F" for us to have the wake-up call we need; and sometimes it just happens over time and one day you wake up and decide.. this just isn't working for me.

I dedicated myself years ago to being a positive person. After an extremely abusive relationship I realized just how much I loathed myself and how sad it took me being in that situation to realize I actually had worth. That's neither here, nor there but the point is, I've been in a place before where life circumstances have left me bargaining with God, having that "If you just give me the strength to get through this, I swear I'll live my life the best way I can to honor you". At some point I actually decided to listen to God saying.... "You have to do the work, I'll be here to listen. Your life choices are always in your own hands, how you choose to live it, is up to you". What the hell..... there's really no "easy" button?

I think I've spent years since that time with an "easy button" of sorts. Amazing husband, amazing kids, great job; it was as if the sun rose after the darkness and God made me very aware, I had weathered the storm. Something happens when you have come through the worst of the worst and you realize just how amazing life can be, however human nature sure has a way of creeping right back in when things aren't all rosy.  We all seem to have seasons in life, the good, the bad, the ugly and the in between where you're in some bizarre place between one or the other. I feel like the last three years since Izzy's diagnosis have been a very long trip between every season imaginable.

That whole "when it rains, it pours" is no joke. I have no idea how it happens, but for whatever reason, in my life, it seems like I'm either skipping through the flowers or clawing my way through the thorns. The hardest part, is to know, admit and own how much of your own misery you are creating for yourself.

I know I'm revisiting but for those unaware, when Izzy was diagnosed we were in the middle of building our dream home. It took 14+ years of BL busting ass in law enforcement and my career was solid, the girls were teenagers getting ready for college, Izzy had a private day care provider, I was being paid to blog and travel for speaking engagements and book signings... LIFE.WAS.GOLDEN. Then, the bottom dropped out beneath us. I was prepared for Autism, I suspected for years. I had NO IDEA we would find ourselves with a diagnosis of Dysphasia, Rickets a feeding disorder, strength and mobility issues and self harming in our child. It seemed as if he woke up angry one day and it all just went to hell in a hand basket overnight. His daycare provider could no longer take it....and I couldn't blame her a bit. I went from working career mom to researching medical expert consumed with internet information and studies on what to do to find the right help for Izzy. We lost over half our income when I left my job. I started a home day care to absorb the loss. We quickly learned there was no way to continue with that once we found out therapy appointments, doctor appointments, intakes, evals, specialist appointments become your new reality overnight. Three years later and the past month or so I've finally found myself at that place where I realized somewhere along the way, I disappeared.

I read every single comment people leave on Izzy's page. "You are amazing", "You are an inspiration", "You have so much patience", "I could learn something about being a wife and mother from you". Truth be told, I am one hell of a special needs mom and I am the epitome of super wife. I'll give myself that. I don't always get it right, I fail miserably a lot, but by God, I give my everything to that boy and his father....because they deserve that from me and because they mean everything to me (as do the girls, but they're not in my face on the daily now that they're grown). However, the reason I do as well as I do is, in part, because I have an amazing husband who makes it easy. I don't live in a home with constant conflict and hostility. My husband is my best friend and the most supportive person I know. I know what it's like to not have that and it makes life miserable. Credit where it's due.... I would suck at this without BL. I could easily say I'm basically a single mom, I'm married to a cop. He's NEVER HERE. It's the sacrifice HE has been willing to make in order for me to be able to stay home. It is HIS sacrifice for our family. He is the one out there working every extra job he can, which is why there will never be any resentment from me feeling like I'm alone in this a lot. I don't feel that way because although there is a lack of his physical presence, there is always 100% emotional support. I can promise you, things would be very different if we didn't have the marriage we have. It breaks my heart knowing how many children and parents suffer when the home front is a place of hostility and not a haven.

All that being said, my husband isn't responsible for my happiness, nor is he capable of making me happy with myself. Honestly, being happy with myself hasn't even been on my radar for the past three years, and not because I decided to hate myself, I just haven't had time to worry about me, nor have I had any interest in worrying about me. You can throw every cliché out there you choose.... "Love yourself first", "If you don't take care of you, you can't take care of anyone else"..... ummm..... YES YOU CAN. It may not be emotionally or physically healthy, and it won't last forever, but ask any special needs mom or mom of a child with cancer, or dad with a child with mobility limitations or any parent or sole caregiver of a person in need and they will tell you.... you sure as hell can take care of everyone but you, and do it rather well. I doubt any of us think it's the best way, but there's only so much of us to go around and we are typically always last on our list. I think that's fair for many, regardless of life circumstances. Unless you're just a self absorbed narcissist, most people tend to think of others before themselves, it's just a matter of who can maintain a level of balance. My balance dropped off my radar three years ago. I haven't looked for it since. Frankly, I wouldn't change a thing. It took everything I had to get Izzy to this point....because I CAN'T DO IT ALL. I'm NOT superwoman. I'm supermom. I'm superwife. I'm NOT SUPER-ME.

So, there's been no huge awakening on my part, there's been no big "this is the year I take myself back" revelation. There's no urgency to make some complete life change on my part. That's the great thing that comes with age.... the knowledge of reality and your own capacity to maintain your determination. I'm honest enough to look at my life and know, I am capable of more for me, at this time. It's taken this long but I finally don't feel consumed with Izzy. I feel like our village is in place. He has his team of doctors and specialists and therapists, we have a groove of progress going, despite sometimes daily setbacks. I've reached that place as "Autism Mom" where I finally feel like "I got this" and it doesn't mean I'll stop crying in the shower on certain days and it doesn't mean I've got all the answers and it is certainly clear that our journey is far from over, but I feel like I am at a place to own that it's time to let go of some of the consuming lifestyle which has been sucking my energy for years. Frankly, I have myself to thank for that. Being proactive and getting Izzy to this place regardless of what it "cost" me, is in part, why I'm where I am today.

I don't think losing yourself is always necessarily a bad thing..... not when it was your own choice, not when you know yourself enough to know what you're doing and why. FORGETTING yourself is worse than losing yourself in my opinion. I was "lost" in my child, so to speak. I have no regrets in that. I also have no shame whatsoever in saying I'm too old, too tired and now too out of shape to go full beast mode by myself and try and become what I was before his diagnosis without help. Every time I read a comment from any of you that says "You're such an inspiration", I feel the need to reply "No, my doctor is an inspiration. Happy pills are an inspiration. Xanax is an inspiration. A husband who isn't a douchebag is an inspiration.   WINE is an inspiration". I'm saying this for every single one of you who is discouraged or beating yourself up or wallowing in a misery you're so far in you can't figure out how to even start to get out. Truth is, I did not wake up on January 1st, go buy a juicer and buckets of organic whole foods and jump on the treadmill and yell "I'm BACK BITCHEZZ!!" No.... I went to the damn doctor and begged him to hook me up! And I'll own it, because it's what works for me and has allowed me to look at an apple and not hurl it back into the damn fridge with anger and resentment. It's allowed me to get my fat ass back on the treadmill without loathing myself for getting off it three years ago. I'm at a place in my life where I can listen to everyone's else's advice and allow myself to feel guilty for not doing things the way society says I should, or I can be me. And this me is the me who says "I don't give a rats ass what you think because you haven't lived a day in my shoes. I am totally aware of what I sacrificed for my son. I'm totally aware I lost myself in the process. I'm not going to beat myself up for one more day because I couldn't be everything to everyone else and chose to backburner myself. I can't change it, and I wouldn't.

One thing I've learned from my son is EVERY DAY is a NEW DAY.   So, to all of you out there beating yourself up.....stop it. You're amazing. Do what you need to do for you and yours, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. YOU know YOU at the end of the day. If you lay your head down at night and know you lived your life the way you wanted to, sleep. If you didn't, think about what works best for you to change some things.....and start a new day.

Life.Is.Good.

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Wolves in Suits and Brass Clothing

1/5/2015

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I had the exceptional blessing to spend a full two weeks with my husband over the holidays, something unheard of in seventeen years of law enforcement. Granted, there were the standing security gigs at the church he's had for years and a couple funeral escorts he just couldn't turn down, especially with the knowledge of lost holiday pay and the forethought of January's bills looming over his head. I welcomed those extra jobs, even in the midst of my spousal bliss that comes with the peace of having your officer "off-duty", as tongue and cheek as that term is, as we know, they never truly are off-duty. For as much as I enjoyed having him under our roof for two weeks, I could see that fidgety notion within him welling up, the need to be out amongst the streets, doing what he does in order to provide for his family. It came during a time of national turmoil in which I needed to see that spark within him. It came during a time of pain, loss and uncertainty within myself as a police wife wherein I, myself, needed to be reminded how much he still desires to be who he has been called to be, as my faith in humanity has been shaken of lately.

Just by the simple nature of what I do; advocating for law enforcement, I see a lot. I hear a lot. I read between the lines a lot and I am told a lot by those who feel they have no one else to allow to hear some things which go unspoken for different reasons. I hear a lot from the spouses of officers. I hear about their greatest fear, kissing their loves goodbye at the beginning of a shift only to weep as their casket is lowered into the ground a week later. I hear about the nightmares I share with them, the dreaded knock on the door, a unit pulling in front of your house which does not belong to your officer, having to tell your children their hero is never coming home. I listen to those who realized those horrors and now call it daily life. I watch as their resilience somehow gets them through another day and I am in awe of their strength.

There is another side to the words which go unspoken for many. It is the officer who rarely speaks and the reasons behind their silence. For many officers, silence is protection. They wish to protect those they love from the truths which should never be spoken of again. For many, silence is a burial of things too painful to relive, or a coping mechanism in self preservation. Becoming anesthetized to the things which are seen and the words of hate continually spoken, the loss of life in manners of such inhumane circumstances it is easier to stifle somewhere deep inside and simply carry it to the grave...as 'simply' as one can carry such a burden. After all, if you can't handle the 'job', if you're not cut out for those things, if you didn't realize what you signed up for, then that's just a personal problem, right?

Over the past months many citizens have taken a renewed notice of law enforcement. Despite an administration hell bent on creating a broadcloth disrespect for the thin blue line, it has backfired. Despite the sensationalized, media fueled accusations and hatred hurled as a collective towards law enforcement, the public has slowly, yet steadily began to rise up and say enough is enough. For as much as those intent on spreading and inciting hatred against our men and women in uniform have tried to turn the country against those who protect us all, they have failed. We have seen organized efforts to lift the spirits and show support for law enforcement across this nation. We have seen countless American citizens voice their disgust at the public threats being made against law enforcement and the notion of "an eye for an eye" as some sort of vigilante justice where two completely innocent (and minority) NYPD Officers were literally hunted and assassinated simply for the brass on their chest in the name of vengeance against white police brutality. Our citizens are sick and tired of the entitled nation of crazed looters and rioters who have no idea what or why nor interest in any cause other than mayhem and destruction. There has been a collective sigh of "Enough already" from the majority who can feel the pain of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as he undoubtedly sheds tears in heaven over what his dream has become under the hands of a charlatan and his cronies with nothing more than greed for fame and fortune in their eyes.

And yet, there is something underlying which is still rarely mentioned. Something which is taking its toll on our officers just as much as the war against them from certain members of society. Something which is leaving them more broken than the hatred they've been accustomed to for years. It's taboo to speak of and for most pointless in its entirety. It's an understood fact and one of those "it is what it is and always be" realities for officers across the country. There's a much more devious wolf out there than the evil in sheep's clothing. There are the wolves in suits and brass. The sad reality is that if you were to ask most officers who has caused them more stress, they will tell you it comes from administration and within the walls of blue, and not from the evil of the streets.

There are thousands upon thousands of officers in America who are ethical, honorable peacekeepers. There are some who are not. There is no officer who loathes a corrupt officer more than an ethical one. For those citizens who contend that until the "good cops turn over the bad cops" there will be no change, I implore you to look inside a "good cop's" reality. A good cop is just an average joe. He/she puts on a uniform one leg at a time and heads out each day to keep the peace. Over the span of 10-12 hours they may go from directing traffic to drinking coffee on a break to delivering a baby to discovering a body. They never, ever know. Every encounter is unknown. They must now worry about being executed from behind simply for their uniform. They must be willing at any moment to put themselves in harms way for a stranger, even those who hate them. They must at every moment be willing to die to save innocents. They must worry about scrutiny and hatred and judgment and being complained on and sued and losing their pension and livelihood because of any given, unknown, circumstance that could possibly happen. If you were to look inside a average joe cop world you would see the supervisor just as you would see your own boss. You would see that you don't get your way by simply asking and you don't get a raise when you deserve it and you may need a new computer or phone system but it's not in the budget, just like officers need new bullet proof vests when they expire....of course your slow computer probably won't contribute to your death if you're shot.

Just as you bust your ass for years and years only to see some new kid with a better diploma sweep in and get your promotion, so too will a good beat cop bust his ass for years only to be passed over for a well earned position due to upper brass politics and pure bullshit. Just as you would go to Human Resources to complain about the unfulfilled promises made to you by management, so to will a average joe cop go to his FOP to file a grievance, only to be blacklisted by the upper brass and guaranteed to be left without a back on the worst shift for the next five holidays. How many of you citizens with a 401-K and medical benefits and a mortgage who are already in your 40's or early 50's are willing in this economy to take a stand and walk out of your job based solely on principal? Before you answer, remember an average joe cop has to start all the way back in the mailroom as a clerk when he walks away, as in become a rookie all over again, academy all over again, the equivalent of your first job out of high school all over again as it is extremely rare to get a lateral hire on another police force.

Remember those times you dropped the ball or spilled the beans at work and next thing you know you were delegated to the most worthless project they could find for you in order to make you want to quit? Average joe cop who stood up for what's right is the one you see in the freezing rain hoping not to get hit by a semi. Average joe cop is the one whose supervisor sent him to the bloated dead body call in the middle of August. Average joe cop is the one who will get ignored for his dedication in never leaving a shift shorthanded when every good 'ol boy in with the upper brass calls in sick and could care less. Average joe cop will get nowhere fast each and every time he opens his mouth about what's right.

You know who average joe cop is? He's the one you're screaming at in a protest line. He's the one who hasn't eaten in nine hours and has to pee so bad it hurts. He's the one who has a wife and two sick kids at home but can't afford not to take the overtime because there's a cutoff notice in his unit. Average joe cop is no more happy about having you scream at him because he's sure wishing you would call someone higher up all those names who actually matters, because he sure doesn't feel like he matters at all. Average joe cop is probably working one of two or three jobs and is hoping not to get a bottle hurled at him or have to fight for his life, one....because of the obvious, two, because he can't afford to be off work.

Average joe cop hasn't been home on a holiday in years. Average joe cop has missed birthday parties and anniversaries and every summer three day weekend for as long as he/she can remember. Average joe cop feels defeated and forgotten by his superiors unless he just happens to have gone to school with them or church with them or luckily a relative is married to a lieutenant. Average joe cop knows good and well if he/she dies in the line of duty the chief will most likely need to look at a picture to know which average joe cop is dead, and then read up on the particulars of average joe cop in order to speak at average joe cop's funeral.

If average joe cop manages to survive an attempt on his/her life, they will be hard pressed to have a department who backs them for very long, and God forbid average joe cop needs some kind of counseling or help with PTSD because average joe cop will have upper brass picking up his/her unit, gun and badge before average joe cop can see a counselor. This is the honest truth and it is widespread across this nation and for those in departments who treat your own this way....you're just as much of a problem. For those who take care of your own, thank God for you and yours. A cop eating his gun or dying of stress related heart illness on average every 17 hours is more than enough.

For the average joe cop, there is much more than public scrutiny weighing on their shoulders, there is much more than hatred and a target on their back. There are memories which never fade, there are monsters they aren't allowed to speak of, there are feelings which get them labeled a pussy. There is humanity which must be suppressed for the sake of self preservation and the ability to protect those in need, yet there is compassion expected in order to serve the public. There are expectations of perfection on a split second basis and there is a knowledge that anything less could mean the end of their career, or their life at any moment. There is a lack of support from the suits and the brass who have agendas and retirements and who have forgotten what being a beat cop was like. For the average joe cop many times feels like nothing more than a badge number, and most of the time that's exactly the case.

Every person who reads this will recognize the names of Mike Brown and Eric Garner.
How many, including law enforcement recognize the names of Suzanne Hopper, Craig Birkholz, Brian Jones, Jared Francom, Jaime Padron, Paul Butterfield and can speak to any aspect of their life, or how they died? If "All Lives Matter", then make it so.

We desperately need the support of the public for our law enforcement officers, but those in command, at every level, need to remember this family. Every Mayor and City Council member and every single person holding rank and title within law enforcement needs to remember, constantly, that first day out on the beat and every single step it took to be in a position to forget those who in your eyes now stand underneath you, rather than beside you.

If it doesn't apply to you, thank you for giving these men and women who risk so much the respect they deserve. If any of this touched a nerve, contemplate how you can change it.

Our LEO's need our support. All of it, from all of us.

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Autism, Motherhood, Police Wife Life; Owning Your Vices

Wolves in Suits and Brass Clothing

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