Tag: Tics

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Consequences and T.S. – The Big Pay Off

Andrea Frazer

When I was in the middle of my big “do I or do I not follow through with this UCLA study/medication” I spoke to one of the doctors. She once again told me the pro’s and cons of Intuiv. The pros: It’s been on the market for 20 years. It’s got very few side affects. The cons: It can make a child really sleepy and sometimes faint due to its blood pressure lowering attributes.

I was still so iffy. It seemed weird to push my kid toward medication when Stink was content with himself. “He’s happy. He loves his tics!” I said to Dr. J..

Her response was a bit startling to me. “Yes, you’ve said that and so has he. It seems kind of odd, though… this whole liking his tics thing. What’s the meaning behind that do you think?”

I had to pause. What was she implying? That somehow Stink was living in Delusion Land? That perhaps I, as a mother, had been feeding my kid the Kool Aid all these years? (Note: This Kool Aide would of course be organic and dye free.)

Dr. J is really great, so I’m not annoyed at her, so much as surprised by the reasoning. Isn’t it possible that a child could like themselves, despite a few tics and twitches?

Is it possible… not to pat myself on the back (but it beats the alternative of flogging myself with fear so go with me)… that Stink was brought up to believe that he, as a person… as a soul… is valid, despite a few “flaws” in the form of tremors and twitches?

And is it at all plausible that this self-confidence is not a side-effect of “potential” Aspergers – the syndrome where people are considered non-self aware and self-focused to an extreme – but the ease in his own skin has to do with the fact that… here’s the zinger, folk…. he actually likes himself.

This leads me, once again, to my feelings about God. (Sorry to you non-faith based folk.) As you know, I’m on a Christian path. It’s one where I have my doubts right along with my blind acceptance of improbablilty faith. But the crux of the matter is this: If some dude really came to life as God in human form, was nailed to a cross, then rose from the dead to have new life, isn’t it possible that my own very human son, through the grace of God, could rise above his own wonky circumstances and love his life?

From my impartial perspective (ha ha… like I could ever be impartial about this little Stinker) my son’s love for his differences come from a combo of 3 main things:

* Personality

* Home life

* Faith

Like the trinity I look towards as strength and support for my joys and sufferings, how can I not look to the trinity of those three attributes and give all of them a little bit of credit toward his contentment?

Never to be underestimated or overlooked, so much of who Stink is comes from his sister. She is his greatest fan and advocate. As the sibling of a “special needs” brother, I am acutely aware that she needs the same sort of honor and time as I give him.

The other day, I said to her, “Pip, you know, there are groups for sisters of kids like Stink. I could totally sign you up if you’d like.” Her eyes got wide and she squealed, “You mean, a group for sisters who have brothers as awesome and funny as Stink?!”

I laughed out loud. What do I owe such an amazing daughter to? Perhaps more of the 3 above. I’m beyond grateful.

In closing, going along with my gut (or as my faith calls it, The Holy Spirit) I really felt compelled to follow-up on this drug study, despite Stink’s protests. “I won’t do it!” he stated in the bathtub one night. “I will spit out those pills! I will pretend like I’m swallowing them and stuff them down the toilet!”

“UCLA is going to give us $25/week for eight weeks for participating in the study. I’ll give it to you to save toward Disneyland tickets,” I offered, figuring he’d turn me down anyway.

“Sounds good to me!” he conceded.

I’ve now got a son fifty bucks richer, two times more hyper likely due to a sugar pill and one happy sibling who will be tagging along with him to the Happiest Place on Earth.

This Jesus of mine clearly has a good sense of humor.

* Photo taken last week before the kids’ music show. That’s my Pip on the left. Miss L is on the right. Stink is, of course, front and center. It’s shocking he’d pick out clothes that would make him stand out so much, huh?

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Where I’m Really Ticked Off – A Hideous Few Days

Andrea Frazer

Stink started his medication last Thursday. At least we hope it’s medication. There’s a 50% chance he was given a placebo. Based on his disposition the past week, however, we’re pretty sure what he was given a form of FDA unapproved BOC.

Standing for Behavior Out of Control, this pill has caused the following side affects:

* Uber lack of focus causing his teacher to send him out of the classroom with the following words, “I’m Done.”

* Passive aggressive meltdown post-school at a friend’s house where he “forgets” his writing journal, proceeds to lock himself into the bathroom, later crawls out of the bathroom on his belly and hides under said friend’s bed when I tell him we’re leaving, forcing the same words out of my mouth as his teacher’s, “I’m Done.”

* Being sent to principal’s office the following afternoon after being warned twice to calm down in music class. Apparently sticking his face into another girl’s face unannounced and then sucking in air like a gaseous puffer fish was not appreciated

* Unprecendented (even for Stink) aruging with siblings and parents, sloppy dinner behavior and more defiance than an O.D.D. kid raised in a barn

I’d love to say this is all an effect of the medication, but given Guanfacine’s (Intuiv’s) main side affect is exhaustion, I’m thinking my son is truly just experiencing B.O.C. which is making me experience LMS – Lose My Sxxt Disorder.

It must be a full moon or something, because many mothers on my beloved Twitch and Bitch private complaint support board are experiencing the same thing.

After talking to the beloved Dr. McCracken at UCLA yesterday, he affirmed that while anything is possible, this upswing in Stink’s turd-like behavior is likely not due to meds. He says that “kids like Stink” go through periods of this where it’s like a trickle effect – one bad event leads to another.

I’d like a trickle event to happen in my life, too. I’d like one glass of vino to lead to two glasses to lead to three glasses followed by a one year stay at a bed and breakfast where I’m served Yuban for hours by a twenty two year old Italian named Roco.

Wish me luck.

PS: Turns out Stink had an awful sore throat last night. “Oh, good,” I thought. “Maybe that’s the reason his behavior was so bad.” No excuses, of course, but could be his impulse control was even less due to illness.

I kept him home today from school so he could rest. I can report, with nothing but pure relief, that he was on the mend by 10:30am! I mean, look at him taking his bath. It’s like a miracle happened! Praise God!

I. AM. DONE.

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I Changed My Mind on Meds – Because I Can

Andrea Frazer

I’m back.  I’ve missed you all. How have you been?

I’ve been busy Ebaying and organizing my office. I’ve been swimming in Great Grandma Stella’s pool. I’ve been attempting to get in shape and get more sleep and pray and laugh and maybe, just maybe, I’ve been obsessing a teeensy bit more than a boatload of elephants at a circus parade about my decision to keep Stink off focus medication.

To be more specific than last time – because it’s just easier to not be cagey (like those poor elephants in the previous paragraph and shut up about that joke it was funny) – the idea of high functioning Aspergers came up at our last UCLA meeting. As I mentioned also, combined with many visits with teachers over the past few years, I decided to look into it more via a UCLA diagnostic study.

Shock of all shock, Stink fits the description for being “on the spectrum” and is a candidate for their drug study – one that uses Intuiv.  Intuiv is used for ADD and UCLA wants to see if it helps kids deal with Asperger symptoms. Continue reading “I Changed My Mind on Meds – Because I Can” →

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David Finch’s The Journal of Best Practices – An Asperger Marriage Review

Andrea Frazer

As I sit down to type this post, five children are running wild in my back yard. Two are throwing dozens of colorful plastic balls over the net enclosure, while the other three bat them right back out. A few balls will likely land over the cement brick wall, resulting in tears, anger, and ultimately laughter as stories are made about Crazy Ed pulling “magic circles” out of his pool filter.

As the coffee hums, the cell phone rings, the house phone follows in suit, and dinner sits uncooked on top of my kitchen counter, I think of my husband: My very organized, methodical, practical husband.

For starters, there would be no children over on school night (my son still has a bit of homework to do.)

For seconds, how much longer am I going to trade services – taking Miss L home a few days a week in exchange for acupuncture? Wouldn’t less chaos be equally as effective in calming down Stink’s tics?

For thirds, why are two of the neighborhood boys here and why are two more kids playing basketball in our driveway? “Don’t they have a home?” he might wonder aloud, to which I’d respond, “Yes, but it’s nice having life in our home. We have to be flexible.”

Depending on my mood, I might be furious with my logical mate. While he means no harm by his comment, I might view it as insensitive. When he married me, I was a vintage wearing/cat eyed sporting/card-carrying WGA TV comedy writer. He wasn’t saying, “I Do” to Ms. Homemaker U.S.A.. These days, the only thing funny is my sense of domesticity – and believe me – we’re not always laughing.

On some days, I might blow his comments off. “That’s just Rex,” I might chide, too happy with my writing gigs or $12.75 Ebay windfall to really ruminate on his remark.

On other days, perhaps after nights of 5 hours sleep and dealing with Stink’s tic upswing, I might feel sad. “Why can’t he just get that life isn’t as easy to compartmentalize as the file folders on his work computer?”

But these days, I often think something else. What if he’s not being a selfish male? What if he just can’t help it?

David Finch’s wife knows a bit about this question. She was fed up with her rigid husband who threw baby tantrums over anything from dishes not being done correctly to having to deal with any change in their schedule that came with children. After five years of marriage, they were no longer friends and teetering on divorce.

Kristen, who Finch describes with endearing affection and admiration throughout his novel, sat him down one night and had him answer questions via an online diagnostic test. “Do people think you are aloof and distant?” (check) “Do you have certain routines you must follow… Do you tend to shut down or have a meltdown when stressed or overwhelmed?” (check and check again, and later, check check check….)

Finch scored 155 out of 200, and then responded with what can only be seen as outrageous aplomb. “I have Aspbergers? I have autism?! I mean… holy shit, right?”

Unlike a lot of folk who might ignore these results, Finch got an official diagnosis from a doctor. Instead of freaking out, he felt relief. He finally realized that his need for control was not entirely his fault: he was wired that way. But perhaps even more astounding than his acceptance of this irreversible condition was his determination to transform his marriage in spite of it.

The result? A New York Times bestselling book. He titled it, The Journal of Best Practices: A Memoir of Marriage, Asperger Syndrome, and One Man’s Quest to Be a Better Husband.

Published by Simon and Schuster, Finch spares no details in walking us through his transformation. Using a detailed list of observations he’d written to himself, Finch came up with a set of best practices to elevate him from the dog house to beloved man of the house.

Some such rules included taking over kid chores without complaining, taking everyone’s clothes out of the dryer (not just the socks he needed) and not ruining he and his wife’s vacation because of a forgotten dental syringe. (He did eventually find one, but only because his wife was kind enough to stop at a supply store with him. He won brownie points for making due until then.)

Aspergers can take on many functions, but the hallmark of this disorder is monumental self-focus. Another way of saying this is that the person does not, inherently, possess empathy.

As a creative person who feels everything from a wacky gleam in my mom’s eye to the way a dissected frog might feel before being diced in two by a seventh grader, I used to think lack of empathy meant lack of feelings. But when I look at some of my own husband’s responses to life situations (sobbing in the driveway when my daughter was being whisked off to emergency for a chest cough, or breaking down over the birth Stink) I realize now how wrong I was. It’s not that folk with Aspergers don’t feel – they just can’t always put themselves in someone else’s shoes and sense how they feel.

On a logical level (and Aspies are nothing but logical) how can one get mad at someone if they aren’t being anal retentive on purpose? What if they are just wired that way, like our kids, who can’t help but tic? They are genetically built to do so. (Not to brag, but a long time friend once commented that I did, indeed, get that stick half pulled out my husband’s ass. I’m a rock star, I know.)

Understanding on a cerebral level is a far cry from acceptance on a soulful one. Marriage to someone like this can be taxing to say the least. One wouldn’t be human if they didn’t find it maddening. A spouse can feel cheated. “Isn’t a relationship about give and take?” many neurotypical mates might balk. Finch’s response is yes, and so is mine.

What Finch succeeded out so brilliantly, both in real life as well as on the written page, is realizing while he might not be able to understand his wife’s needs on an intuitive level, he can respond in a practiced way that honors her because he loves her.

It’s the same with my marriage, and perhaps yours. Aspbergers or not, all relationships have issues that can’t be wrapped up in a shiny happy bow.  Like a tic, you never know what’s going to pop up out of the blue. We simply need to respond well – and sometimes that takes practice.

“Rex does not have Aspergers!” some friends or family might say. “He’s just being an extreme male!” That is quite possible. But like my son’s Tourettes, I can’t change what is. Either my mate is just very very very set (we’re talking “footprints that have dried for ten years in cement” set) in doing things a certain way or he has Aspergers. Unless he’s diagnosed, I’ll never know. I can only change how I respond to it. Like Finch’s wife, I hope I’m doing so with love, honor, humor, gentle pushings toward change and a whole lot of grace. I can only hope my husband continues to work toward understanding me the way Finch did his wife. I might not get a best selling book out of Rex, but it would be a lovely new chapter for us.

Until then, for those of you who are also dealing with Aspergers with your spouses or perhaps your sons or daughters (it’s often a co-morbid condition with T.S.) please take hope from Finch’s book. It is not the end of the world. It’s simply a different way of thinking. Life isn’t always easy, but it can be challenging, interesting and, as Finch’s writing attests to, hilarious.

As I wait for my husband to return from a 12 hour work day, my son is complaining about leaky liquid coming from his arse. I have seven children waiting to eat tacos. I have 2 articles due and I’m PMSing like a crazy person. If my hubby can come home to all that, I can accept some of his quirks. He loves me. I love him. Like Kristen, I’m in this marriage for the long haul. With Finch’s book, I’m joyful to know that it’s possible to have less survival and more thriving. I wish the same for all of you, both in T.S., marriage and all of life’s challenges.

More on Finch’s book can be found at his websitehttp://www.davidfinchwriter.com/

Also, special thanks to Simon and Schuster for sending me this book and allowing me to sing its praises. Here’s a fun promo of what turned out to be one of the most insightful books I’ve read this year.

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2 Reasons to Live

Andrea Frazer

My left and right boobies: Both healthy!

I am keeping this short for no other reason than to let you know I’m thinking about you all.

I’m also relieved to report that my first mammogram came back healthy. I had no reason to think it wouldn’t, but it was scary none-the-less.

The take-away from the experience was that I realized just how much I had to live for. Sure, I loved my life before, but sometimes I feel sorry for myself. It took thinking about what it would be like to not be with my kids – tics and all – to make me realize just how fortunate I really am.

Now, to be fair, all negative mammos don’t mean death. And all tics don’t bother everyone. Am I being extreme here? Sure. But fear works that way. It’s like a seedling that grows like, dare I say, a cancer. Once it’s there, it’s hard to stop it.

Let me try and squelch some of your fears with this tiny post: Your child is fine. You are fine. I am here for you – my big healthy boobies and all of my heart. We love you.

Andrea

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Stink Turns 9, Mario Turns 0

Andrea Frazer

So most of you know how much I love Mario I hope that little fat fxx gets offed by Japanese Gaming Executives and is replaced by a First Person Shooter Game called “Crunchy Mama Vs. DS Satan Zombies.”

The object of the game is that the virtual hero you create, preferably a flabby ass forty year old like myself who wears thrift store Ugg boots and wreaks of Yuban, gets to huck gluten free cardboard type spelt bread at the heads of Video Game Creators. For every head that rolls, it’s one less tic you’ll have to deal with.

Lead players will also wipe out:

* Aspergers

* ADHD

* IEPs

* Un-inspired educators

* Uneducated buffoons who spell Tourettes “Turrets”

* Dill

That last one on the list? I just added it because I hate dill.

Without getting too personal about my son’s life – which is a joke because this whole blog is dedicated to analyzing every aspect of his confusing syndrome – I’ll say that I’ve been most frustrated about his obessions lately. The tics? Very very minimal. God bless acupuncture! But the constant never ending talk about Mario. DRIVING ME INSANE OH MY GOD SHOOT ME I’M GOING TO GO CRAZIER THAN I ALREADY AM.

Let’s assume he has a pending diagnosis that would make his inability to focus on anything other than his favorite topic impossible. Let’s say that with this diagnosis is hope for a brilliant academic future but a decent chance that he’s wired the way he is for better or for worse? Even if that is the case, I can’t take the talk about Mario 24/7. He has to curb it.

So I’ve installed the new Mario Behavior Chart which I’m making his teacher implement. It goes like this:

* He gets a star if he doesn’t talk about it before recess

* Same thing before lunch

* Same thing before dismissal.

* His teacher gives him a few extra stars if he doesn’t interrupt, say inappropriate things, etc.

I don’t care how much he talks about it on the playground.

This new system, let me say, is working! It’s not intended to be about censorship. It’s about letting the side of his brain that is super intelligent work on learning other stuff. It will allow new people into his world and enrich his relationships. It will tie in his weekend game time to good behavior.

This has all taken an incredible amount of patience. If I could, I’d drink three glasses of wine/day – I’m that tired by 8PM. But drinking is a slippery slope, so I’m not.

Not until Friday.

And then, all bets go out the window. Stink can play his beloved Wii and I can down some good red wine with the girls.

And on Saturday, during his Star Wars themed birthday party Fat Fxx Mario Debacle, I will be the first to take a baseball bat and whack the living lights out of that Fuzzy Plumber Pinata.

I’m obsessing a bit tonight. Do you think I have Aspergers or am I just jonesing for Friday?

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Scheduling Mama, Scheduling Kid

Andrea Frazer

I’m back! It’s been about 2 of the craziest weeks since the holidays. If you’re like me, between kids and working and hobbies and errand running and family obligations stuff just gets so busy everything gets done but nothing gets done well.

I don’t like that. Call it the perfectionist in me, but doing a lot simply to check it off the list isn’t good enough. I want to be present in my life – even the mundane stuff like house cleaning and walking the kids to school.

Someone who knows a bit about mindfullness is a writer friend of mine, Kate Hanley. Check out her weekly column at Ms.Mindbody. She’s even written the ultimate Chill Guide which you can find at her website.

I can’t even close to call myself a meditator. One of my biggest beefs with that practice has always been, “How can I find silence when my kid is vocally ticking!”

But even if I weren’t kidding – which I am (come on, people, haven’t you heard of ear plugs?) – the fact is that I simply haven’t carved out the time to do it. I have, though, found some ways to  organize my time so that I work more efficiently.

I’d like to talk about that this week, for in taking care of Mama, it has worked out that I am less worried about the things I can’t control, like T.S.! I can just do my best. That’s all any of us can do.

In closing, I’ll leave you with a few of my favorite pics taken over the past 2 weeks. I’d love to hear how you and your family are doing, too.

Here’s my daughter and me at Pip’s First Confession. Yes, I confess I have been a bad blogger! Oh, readership – all 20 of you – forgive me!

Here’s Rex, the kids, and little Miss L chilling out on a weekend night before a typical Saturday sleepover.

And here we have one of my favorite moments from our snow getaway last weekend. The kids had been disappointed that our cabin wasn’t covered in white, but the very next morning, we woke up to just enough flakes to enjoy some delicious sample tasting and a sled run down the hill.

Life with T.S. can feel far from perfect, folk, but I promise you that the more you live in the moment, the more you’ll look beyond a few annoying tics and cherish the friendships, the love and the smiles. A few extra snowflakes? That’s just icing on the cake.

Until next time,  hug that ticker of yours today!

Andrea

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Acupuncture Update #3 and Meditation

Andrea Frazer

Stink was a bit head shaky, twitchy on Thursday. A session with Martina cleared this right up.

At first, Stink would complain about acupuncture. It was not the needles, but the time he had to take out of his day to sit still, that bugged him.

But now, he loves it. He is especially fond of Thursday’s sessions when he lays in Mama and Papa’s bed and hears this awesome meditation CD. In fact, the CD relaxes him so much, he and his sister go to sleep with it at night. It even worked in knocking him and his best buddy out in fifteen minutes on Saturday night.

This was after playing the Wii, seeing a movie, and running around like hellions in the backyard.

Just saying, if my kid and his 9 year old friend can go from this…

…to this

…it might be worth a shot for your little tickers.

Meditation CDs and acupuncture aren’t miracle cures, but for us, they are working.

More later!

Tics, Tourettes, Uncategorized

Acupuncture for Tourettes and Tics

Andrea Frazer

Many times in the early days, when Stink’s tics seemed awful, I’d say, “God, I’ll trade in x if you take Stink’s tics away.”

When things were calm, I’d say, “God, I’ll trade in x if you keep the twitches mellow just like they are.”

My prayer request was not granted, but as the Rolling Stone song says, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”

Apparently what Mama needed was her life back – a life that didn’t consist of worrying about Stink 24 hours a day. It didn’t mean I didn’t have to try to suppress the tics and keep him healthy, but as the motto for my website goes, I had to work toward “Accepting the tics I couldn’t change, change the tics I could, and have the wisdom to know the difference.”

After some careful prayer and consideration, it was pretty obvious I had to get back to my writing, hence this blog and my book. (The book… I’m so behind. I’m going to have to stop talking about it and just do it.)

While doing what I love didn’t change Stink’s tics, it helped me stop focusing like a laser light on what I couldn’t change and try a few new things. One of those is acupuncture with the talented Martina Eberhard.

As you can see, needles in Stink’s ears left him highly traumatized.

Stink will be seeing Martina 2 days/week for at least two months. I’ll keep you informed of his progress.

Meanwhile, Martina will be working on his “wind” to create better digestion. Apparently his tongue is an off color, indicating that he is not processing food as well as he could which doesn’t help with tics. Given he’s eaten more gluten than a truckload of Webby’s bread this vacation, I’m shocked his tongue hasn’t transformed into a oblong ball of white spongy flour.

What about you all? What kind of treatments have you pursued either for yourself or your kids?

Until next time, enjoy the pleasant visual of needles being placed into my kid’s shins and head. The irony that just 12 hours earlier I was using sewing needles to hem his pants did not escape me.

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5 Ways To Face TS and Tics In 2012

Andrea Frazer

I’m excited to bring you my very first post at my new website domain! Like my son’s favorite present from Santa, I hope my site can be a treasured gift to you so that you can find joy despite a diagnosis you may not be thrilled with. If there’s something you disagree with, let me know.

For those of you new to my blog, you can catch up on my TS journey at my old site here. But like Tourettes, despite good and bad days getting used to my new platform, this is my new home. Welcome!

For my first entry, I thought I’d cut and paste an entry I wrote in response to a friend of mine who was worried about her son’s new facial tics. She, like many new moms at the beginning, has moments of complete devastation. Sure, there are times when she feels like she’s okay with her son’s diagnosis (like the time when her son’s tics are the most minimal – shocking, I know.) But just when she feels like maybe she’s accepted his condition, a new twitch starts. With it comes fear, riding on a raging horse.

She wrote that she felt bad about, well, feeling bad! Like somehow she should be more accepting! Other moms in our group, it seems, are “over T.S.” and she isn’t.

For those of you who might feel like you are alone – that other folk can handle T.S. (or any disorder) and you’re in a fetal position in the corner drowning your sorrows with Two Buck Chuck from a sippy cup (hey, I resemble that remark!) rest assured – we all have our off days. Or weeks. Or months. Just hang in there – you will feel better in time.

Here’s my two cents on the subject. I edited my response a bit for the purposes of this blog.

I have been better lately for a variety of reasons.

1. Time: I have been down this road for FIVE years. I get the waxing and waning. I’ve done it all, from food and diet to supplements and possible medication options. I’ve done the holistic docs. I’m starting acupuncture. I have gotten to a point where I accept that Stink has TS and I”m doing my best. I don’t feel like ‘why can’t I fix it’ because I know I can’t 100%. But that leads me to #2.

2. A Plan.I have one. I’m going to do Brain Balance. I need to make some money to do that. This means selling some articles, teaching some online writing classes, Ebay, etc. Doing what I’m passionate about not only makes me joyful, but it has the added benefit of making me think less about the tics so I can actually change something I have control over: my attitude.

3. My Faith – Hope: Christianity has been a tremendous source of support for my up and down emotions.

* Note: Where I ramble like a Bible Thumper –  Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” This passage is a source of great hope for me. It means that my “suffering” is not in vain.

That tics are just like a puzzle piece. For a while, like when Stink was first diagnosed, the puzzle pieces seemed jarring. It felt like they would never fit together. Slowly, with my plan, I got the border put together. That was my emotional balance.

Now I have some of the middle put together. I can see a beautiful picture despite some missing holes. With faith, the holes can be filled in with a picture I create. That picture is a life where Stink is happy, healthy, funny and over T.S.. And if he’s not over T.S., it’s not in vain, because his character, and mine, was shaped from it.

* More thumping: And a sidenote!  I encourage all of you to find your own personal road to faith! Romans 5: 3-5 promises “And we rejoice in the HOPE of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our suffering, because we know that suffering produces perseverance: perseverance, character: and character, HOPE. And HOPE does not disappoint us.” (Hooray for hope! I love hope!)

4. Finding my Passion: My writing has been tremendously helpful to me. It’s my love. I can’t form sentences and write blog posts while, at the same time, obsessing about tics. It’s simply impossible. In writing this blog, I am serving others as well. I have bad days like we all do, but in lifting others up, I am selfishly lifting myself up also. The key for me in helping others was realizing that I can’t just serve when I’m feeling okay. God can use me when I’m feeling like a piece of spit out gum stuck to the sidewalk. Before long, I’m blowing good bubbles of encouragement. And I even forgive myself for stupid analogies like the one I just wrote.

* Last thing on serving others: This is not meant as some do-good Christian tip. I don’t care what your religion is or how you feel. Taking your eyes off yourself, and putting them on someone else, is the cure-all for anthing. Don’t believe me? Try it. You’ll get hooked.

5. Acceptance: I accept that some days I’m just down. I don’t like the verbal tics any more than you all do. I have moments where I can’t be in the same room with Stink. I need a break. I have to fight for my “me” time and my “down time” and work on my marriage to do this. It’s created a wedge between my husband and me, at times, as I’m no longer the “yes” person where he gets all the breaks after his hard day at work and I continue to slave. Yes, I have down time while the kids are at school, but I also do a hell of a lot of work while I’m at home alone. I know… I KNOW… I’m worth some relaxation. Rex is starting to understand that. It’s not been a fun road, but he’s getting there, and that is all I need. Love is not a feeling – it’s an action. It’s a verb.

To help with all five points above, I am not ashamed to say I take 75mg of Zoloft every day. It’s evened me out enough to take my head out of my ass and face life the way life is. I hope to not be on it forever, but if I need to take it, I will. My good friend, Chrissy, sent me a link that talks about depression better than I could.

In closing, please know I’m here for all of you. I hope you’ll consider making a plan for yourselves to then get a plan for your child. If it’s meds, go for it. If it’s back to work, go for it. If it’s exercise, go for it. But know this: if it weren’t TS, you’d face something else at some point in your life. Perhaps your mom would die, throwing you into a tailspin. Or a husband who cheats on you. Or your child could have some other illness or you could be diagnosed with something.

I truly truly believe, now, that TS is the invitation we all need to accept life on life’s terms and do the best we can. I pray that you all find peace and are not so hard on yourselves. I’ll take the same hope for me, too.

Until tomorrow, remember my motto: A kid who tics with confidence outweighs an insecure  ass wipe any day of the week. (I should probably consider revising this tagline, but for now, the sentiment remains! Hug that ticker today!)