Kind of a strange week.
I’ve been gearing up to submit a few stories to the PNWA’s Literary contest. In the way back of my mind I have a list of things that need to be accomplished. I’ve been overwhelmed by the writing thing and unable to concentrate on some really important stuff. Bad mommy. Don’t ask me why, but I’m inwardly cringing thinking about sharing this serious topic with y’all.
Let’s just do a quick reminder here, for the sake of all things internet I refer to my oldest child as Bunny Wabbit, who identifies as a trans male, and the youngest as Little Bear.
So here goes. I have to find a new therapist for the kiddo. And an LGBTQ support group for him. Oh yeah, and me too. The support group part. Pretty important stuff that’s getting overshadowed by my hobby that accidentally on purpose is turning into a job. Again, bad mommy.
Bunny Wabbit has been seeing his current therapist for a year and a half – ever since the revelation that he was deeply depressed. We saw much success over the first year, but it seems to have plateaued. This is daunting, as the kiddling is approaching his eighteenth birthday and we’ve yet to succeed in getting him to get his driver’s license, nor leave the house for anything but school and family outings. But, hey, school! That’s a success, right? At least he goes, and does his homework, albeit at the last minute.
I called our local community center because they were advertising on their marquee that they have an LGBTQ support group. I got really excited and finally gave them a call. First they transferred me to the senior center. This probably should have alarmed me but back in the day they just used that location like any other and held classes and such there for anybody. Guess what? The support group is for folks 50 and over. So Yay! THEY HAVE AN LGBTQ SUPPORT GROUP FOR FOLKS 50 AND OVER!! And boo hiss I still have to drive pretty far to get to one for someone his age… and mine.
When I brought this up to my good friend as we were out and about, she got excited. She too is a trans parent. And she too got bummed out at the age restriction. So I’m thinking just as soon as I get my act together, (When will that happen? Anyone? Anyone?) I’ll contact the community center and see about creating a support group for youth as well as their parents here. We sorely need one.
Which bring us to this meme I saw today.
Made me think. If my kid hadn’t opened up to me about his problems, we’d never have started this crazy journey to healing. We’d still be stuck in the angry mess we were in. So yeah, this is more than a little beautiful.
I did manage to submit my entries this evening. Now I’m a ball of panic that there are a million things wrong with my entries and that I’m totally wasting my time. But I have to keep starting. Because if I stop every time its scary, every time my hands shake, then I’ll never get anywhere.
Sometimes, the internet speaks my soul.