Love is a Promise
Have you ever heard the song, “Hard to Love”, by Lee Brice? If you haven’t, then you must not listen to country music. The chorus goes like this:
“I’m hard to love, hard to love, oh I don’t make it easy, and I couldn’t do it if I stood where you stood. I’m hard to love, hard to love, and you say that you need me, I don’t deserve it, but I love that you love me good.”
One of the verses goes like this:
“I am a short fuse, I am a wrecking ball. Crashing into your heart like I do. You’re like a Sunday morning, full of grace and full of Jesus, I wish that I could be more like you.”
It’s funny because as I read it back I am singing it in my head.
When the song first came out about ten years ago, Tracy joked that the song was about us. I joked back that indeed there were times that he didn’t make it easy. Keep in mind that our relationship includes lots of laughter!
I have another man in my life. A man that has a short fuse. A man that crashes into my heart with a wrecking ball regularly.
My son, Travis.
Travis is an angry young man. Oftentimes it is at us. Even when it’s not at us, he takes it out on us.
We have spent years trying to understand what it must be like living with all the diagnoses. The bottom line is that try as we might, we will never truly understand. How could we? We haven’t experienced the diagnoses personally.
I spent some time today going back and reading through some of my past blog posts. In one I was writing about his diagnoses and said, “This is a lot of stuff for one child to face. Any one of his diagnoses would make life difficult. But all of it together makes it nearly impossible for him to cope in this world. We cannot forget the person under the diagnoses”.
One of the things that we get stuck on as a family is the idea of how much to do for him. We struggle with the concept of providing him with more things when he doesn’t take care of the stuff he has. We wonder if he will learn anything if we have him go without.
Some of the other takeaways from previous blogs:
In the evaluation that added autism to his list of diagnoses the neuropsychologist said that Travis’s tendency to act aggressively without understanding the consequences is part of his autism spectrum disorder.
In just about every setting from school to therapy we have received comments saying that Travis has trouble seeing the connection between his behavior and natural consequences.
“The belief that children with ADHD/Autism type disorders can learn to diffuse explosive behavior by applying the time and consequence theory assumes that the child can create goal-directed behavior, shift attention easily, regulate impulsive responses and use reasoning, foresight and premeditation to solve problems.” Travis was not able to diffuse his explosive behavior then and is still unable to as an adult.
Travis still shows explosive behavior. Travis still has anger management issues. Even after years of work with specialists and therapy. Even after years of medication or supplements.
We provide Travis with a home. A home that he punches holes in the walls, or tears the doors off of hinges when he gets angry. Tracy has fixed the drywall in every school setting that Travis has attended. Now he fixes the drywall in the mobile home that we purchased for Travis to live in.
If we try to instill the idea of natural consequences it is too hard a reality to face. Natural consequences means that Travis would be living on the streets. There is not another landlord that would put up with the constant damage to property.
We can’t just leave his home with holes on the walls, if that’s what you’re thinking. HUD inspects his home annually. It wouldn’t pass in that condition.
The frontal lobe of Travis’s brain does not work properly. The frontal lobe is the part of the brain that controls important cognitive skills in humans, such as emotional expression, impulse control, problem solving, memory, language, judgment, and sexual behaviors. It is, in essence, the “control panel” of our personality and our ability to communicate. The frontal lobe is the home of much of what makes us human. It plays a role in everything from movement to intelligence, helps us anticipate the consequences of our actions, and aids in the planning of future actions.
Per www.spinalcord.com, some of the many functions of the frontal lobe include:
Assessing future consequences of current actions. Thus the frontal lobe plays a vital role in impulse control, including decisions about when to spend money and eat, and whether a particular decision is morally or socially acceptable.
Formation and retention of long-term memories, particularly emotional memories derived from the limbic system.
The development of personality. Because of the frontal lobe's roles in memory, emotional regulation, expression, impulse control, and other key functions, it plays a key role in personality.
Managing reward. Dopamine, a neurotransmitter that plays a role in reward and motivation, is heavily active in the frontal lobe because most of the brain's dopamine-sensitive neurons located here.
Attention regulation, including selective attention. Frontal lobe difficulties can lead to executive functioning issues, as well as disorders such as ADHD.
Emotional expression and regulation, in addition to understanding the emotions of others.
Travis is on the autism spectrum, with a cognitive disability and severe mental health issues. While some individuals on the autism spectrum are quite successful, it’s likely they don’t have a cognitive or learning disability. While some individuals with a learning disability lead happy and fulfilling lives, it’s likely that they don’t suffer from mental illness.
Travis did not cause this to happen to himself. He did not ask for it. He does not have the functional capacity to cope with the diagnoses in a safe and competent manner. Regardless of our efforts to help him.
As much as our family all understands that Travis’s personality and behavior is a result of his brain issues, we still get frustrated, it sometimes seems like he has a gift of knowing how to push that one button or get on that last nerve. Tracy and I can usually read when the other is feeling overwhelmed and tag team. But what happens when we are both overwhelmed?
We went to the cabin this past weekend. Travis’s car broke down and he was unable to reach us. He called grandpa to tow his car the last couple of blocks home. He left Tracy a long and not very nice message on his phone. Which Tracy didn’t hear until today because it was on his old phone and number. We are both still trying to figure out how to forward his calls to his new number.
We had already had a few conversations with Travis that we would not be repairing this car. It needs a new clutch. We have already put three new clutches on this particular car. In the four years that we have owned it. I think it’s safe to say that Travis is not going to be able to have a vehicle with a standard transmission.
We are simply not willing to continue to spend $1,500 a year to fix it. Travis is not making the connection between his driving style and the consequences, the damage to the clutch. So we said that his next car, if there should be a next car, would be a manual.
And, he lost it. Parenting in these moments is ridiculously hard. He can be extremely mean, like mean to the 10th degree.
I have a quote written in the back of my planner. I refer to it often. It is a loose interpretation of a bible verse. “Love is patient, love is kind. Love is not irritable. Love never gives up, and never loses faith. Love is always hopeful and love endures through every circumstance.” I once heard that to determine if we are currently the best version of ourselves, we should substitute our name in the place of love. Glenda is patient, Glenda is kind. Glenda is not irritable. Glenda never gives up, and Glenda never loses faith. Glenda is always hopeful and Glenda endures through every circumstance.
I am trying to be the best version of myself. But I am also human.
Tracy and I discuss if there should be a next car. Travis doesn’t take care of his car. Travis’s “friends” exploit him for rides, without helping pay for the gas or any other cost related to having a car. And then to top it off, they leave all of their fast food trash in his car.
Should we make him go without for awhile? That is a consequence. But the research says that part of his disability is the inability to assess future consequences of current actions. He has proven to us time and time again that he is not making the connection. Cause and effect. He makes the same mistakes again and again. And again.
There is not much in his life that brings him joy. But having a car does. And even though his friends can be butts sometimes, (this is the nicer version of what Travis calls them when he’s angry) helping friends by driving them to appointments or on errands gives him a sense of being needed. It gives him some purpose. Having a means to get to where he wants to go gives him a sense of freedom, of not being caged in. He is proud that he was able to get his driver’s license. He is the only member of his tribe that drives.
He told us that we don’t care about him because we won’t buy him the car he wants. In the back of my mind I’m trying to think about his frontal lobe and remember that this is why his emotional expression and regulation are out of whack. Why his understanding the emotions of others is also out of whack.
We talk to him about the financial impacts of purchasing cars. Don’t get me wrong. We can afford to get him another car. Part of his disability is that he cannot manage finances. He doesn’t understand the value of money. That is the reason that I am his representative payee. How can he possibly understand when we talk to him about the thousands of dollars expended on his vehicles and their maintenance.
Tracy and I are great examples of treating each other, our family members and others with respect and kindness. We haven’t been able to teach Travis about relationships. Tracy and I take great care of our home, our vehicles, everything that we own. We haven’t been able to teach Travis how to take care of his things.
As parents we teach our children by setting an example. We teach them the value of earning something. When you work hard for the things you have, you learn to take care of them, to make them last.
How do you teach your child with a disability and is unable to earn a living the value of their stuff. Not only because they didn’t pay for it themselves, but also because they don’t understand the value of money. Or the concept of rewards.
It is hard to watch Travis damage the things we worked so hard to provide him. His home. His car. It’s also hard to watch him be in so much pain that he can’t help himself.
Do we punish him by not replacing the car, which may bring him joy? Is punishment a waste of time if he isn’t understanding or learning from it? See how hard every decision is? We try to win each Travis battle we face with love and compassion. Can you hear the tune? I’m hard to love, hard to love, I don’t make it easy… Travis does not make it easy.
I shared this quote in a previous blog. “Love is an unconditional commitment to an imperfect person. To love somebody isn’t just a strong feeling. It is a decision, a judgement and a promise.” - Author Unknown
Love is a promise. I made a promise to an imperfect person.
I made another promise. I promised (even pinky swore) to do my best to help Travis to become the best version of himself.
Some days my best looks better than others.
“I can’t promise to fix all your problems, but I can promise you won’t have to face them alone.” - Author Unknown
