Why me?
How many times have I asked myself this question? Why me?
When we’re out shopping and my son starts to tantrum, and head butt me and yell inappropriate language at everyone around us, I ask myself this question.
When we’re out with friends and my son’s behaviour is aggressive and antisocial, and I’m on the receiving end of ‘advice’, disapproving comments, and feeling other people’s uncomfortable tension in the air, I ask myself this question.
When I have to refuse an invitation to a social gathering because I’m unsure of how he will cope or react, or when I avoid leaving the house because his behaviour is so unpredictable and it leaves me feeling completely exhausted, I ask myself this question.
When his little sister shields her face and body as he runs past her, in fear of being hurt by a bump or a push because he is oblivious to those around him, I ask myself this question.
When I feel totally alone and unable to take any more physical or abusive attacks from him, I ask myself this question.
I know the answer - even at my lowest point, but I have to remind myself often.
Why me? Because I love him.
Why me? Because I will never give up on him.
Why me? Because deep down I know that I am capable of taking on this very special task, and that is to support him and encourage him, and love him through life. Not every parent could do this job, of that I am sure. I know my job is to believe in him and to help him reach his full potential.
The future often scares me. I wonder at what it holds for us as a family, and for him as a person.
But when I ask the question, Why me? I just know that it couldn’t be anyone else.