Tommi is miserable. Grumpy. Tired and depressed. Complaining about everything. A black cloud ready to strike anyone down with its thunder and lightning.

Therefore I am sometimes miserable. Grumpier than normal. Exhausted mentally, physically, emotionally. A grey cloud on the brink of releasing its raindrops at any moment.

And Todd is frustrated, tired and thirsty for a better relationship with Tommi. He’s protective of me. He’s tired of the fight. He’s also a grey cloud, but can turn into a storm cloud without warning.

It’s life. Our life. Raising an autistic, transgender, anxious, depressed teenager whose headphones no longer work properly and who is having to change to new ones; whose clothes literally don’t feel comfortable anymore; who can’t deal with multiple people talking to him or multiple stimuli occurring simultaneously. On the daily, his teeth hurt, or he has a stuffy nose, or his snot is green, or he can’t chew bc he felt a pain in his jaw, or he thinks he forgot how to swallow or a host of other issues. He lives in fear of going to the dentist and he can’t participate in the zoom meetings for school because he can’t read people or stay attentive to people on a screen…luckily he doesn’t HAVE to attend them. He just got used to having his Bubby home for spring break and now has to get used to him being gone again.

I wish I had a magic pill that could take all the anxiety and sensory overload away from him in times like these. I wish I didn’t get that feeling of impending doom when I see the angst building or get anywhere from 5-25 texts in a row while I’m trying to work. I wish he could see, really see, how hard I’m trying to do the right things by him. I know I’m a good mom. I know I’m doing my best. And it’s taken a lot of encouragement from Todd and Brad for me to say that. I’m fighting the fight daily—winning some battles and losing others. And even though the devil tells me I’m alone in this battle, I know I’m not. I do know that the devil works overtime in Tommi, I can’t even begin to imagine the clutter in his brain. How it all swirls together up there like a tornado and spins him out of control at times. I told him that I think it’s time to try some meds again. To take the edge off of his anxiety and depression. He doesn’t really agree, but we’ll see what the psychiatrist says.

The good news this week….the Depo shot must be working-no period this month to date. And we have seen some smiles and laughter shining through, especially for his Bubby.