I have a tendency to notice patterns. This probably isn’t surprising to many people, but basically how it works is: I see something and I think that’s unusual, and then I start noticing that the thing that I saw is not really that unusual: it becomes a pattern.
This week has been a difficult week for me. My son and I had a few medical appointments scheduled, as well as some other outside of the home activities. It has been overwhelming, and this is when all systems crash.
I’ve always been a list maker.
Another week, another horrible awareness raising campaign.
On the surface, this one looked like fun. Dress up as a superhero for children with muscular dystrophy. But, scratch a little deeper and you find this. Imagine, for a moment, that you are the parent of a child recently diagnosed, or a person recently diagnosed, how would you feel…
[CN: Discussion of ableist language]
In our house, we have two “S words”. The first one is shit. I’m allowed to say shit. My son is not. He will get cursing privileges when he’s older. The other “S word” is stupid. Neither my son nor I say that word in our house.
I have always loved this poem by Robert Frost. I first came across it in high school, and while it is called The Road Not Taken, I’ve always thought of it as The Road Less Traveled representing the choice a person makes between a road less traveled and a road that is slightly more worn.
[CN: gaslighting, toxic family]
Something happened yesterday which rattled me to my core. To the casual observer, the thing might seem like no big thing, but it was a big thing to me because it signals the start of a pattern of behaviour from someone else, specifically my father.