Today at PT I hurt my knee again. I'm feeling like I'm lost. I just want someone to help me. Someone who is strong right now. Someone to tell the doctors, "No. She is hurt. She can't push herself anymore."
I missed yet another week with the counselor, and Chiro; because I need help getting my schedule together. Plus, I have to fight for the rights of my autistic son.
The school wants to schedule his IEP. A legal document that dictates how my son's education should be addressed. So far, he can barely read and his handwriting is horrible. He cannot fill out a job application. He has not handed in homework since 6th grade. Yet, the school has him graduating this year.
I have to get on top of this. I have to get my life organized. I am so tired of fighting. I have even thought of cutting or drinking again. Instead I got a memorial tattoo for Simon.
Simon was my dog that got me through my worst years. One night, I was making plans to possibly end my life. I had just finished the note. Placed it on my night stand besides the bed.
I grabbed my pills and paused.
Tears were coming in buckets.
I was just out of my teen years. A single parent, who was in a wheelchair due to drunk driver. I was told earlier that day there was a possibility I would not walk properly again.
My body was fighting against me. I was in extreme pain. I just pushed a baby out of my lower half, but this pain was worst, much worst. I lost my long-term boyfriend due to the accident. I felt so alone.
I had adopted Simon shortly after the accident. I had lost so much; I just needed someone to love me unconditionally. My son was too young to talk to, plus I did not want to every tell him mommy was not the strong woman he always saw.
Simon was an abuse case. Everyone told me it would take forever to get him to trust me. Simon lived in the laundry room. It was the only room that mimicked the size of his pen at the shelter. He felt safe there; so I didn't force him to come out when he didn't want to. He was also at the shelter for 18 months. All he knew was that pen.
I paused.
I took a moment to reflect on what I was about to do.
I really thought there was no way out. I thought I would never be happy again. When someone is this state of mind; they feel trapped; like there is no solution to the problem. I rationalized that my son was too young to remember me. He would be better off with my parents anyway. I thought what child would want a defective parent.
I started to weep. I wanted to scream out, but I just silently sobbed. Held the scream in. Muffled the sobs so no one would disturb me.
As I opened my eyes, I saw this scared cowering dog looking back at me. His soulful brown eyes looked deep into my soul. I had that little voice inside me say, "but I NEED you." Simon then put his paw on my foot.
The emotions broke loose. I put the pills back in the bottle, closed it, and threw the bottle in my closet. I laid down, and Simon jumped in bed beside me. He put his body next to mind, and his head on my stomach. He licked my hand, and then drifted to sleep.
Simon went with me everywhere from then on. Simon lived to swim. He rehabbed with me. He pushed me. I don't think I would have gotten thought this injury without him. I am forever in his debt.
Before I get hate mail; Simon made me a better parent. His constant pushing to get me walking again and his everlasting desire to play gave me the motivation to include my son in every aspect of my life.
On 12/12/12, I got this:
It's Simon's paw print. In the exact same spot he would put it to encourage me. Every time I paused his paw was always there.
Now with this latest speed bump in my life; I think it was more than time to memorialize this awesome animal.
I love you and miss you, Simon. Even though you are gone; you encourage me every day to get out, enjoy life, and stand my ground.
Rest in Paradise.
Simon 1994-2011
@scribbles412
The lazy housewife.
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