Special Needs Mom Anger

When a person is going through the stages of grief, it is never a neat line with a starting point at diagnosis and an ending point a little while later, and you stay in acceptance. You cycle through the stages over and over. 

Normally, I am a very positive person. I have always been an optimist. But on Mother's Day, I had a total meltdown. I'm talking ugly cry, snot everywhere, gasping for air because it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest as the weight of my reality set in.

I was so angry and resentful toward everyone and everything. 

Even though I love my child unconditionally.

I still felt so angry. 

I felt angry at insurance for not covering the seizure medication and speech therapy and occupational therapy and medical tests that my kids so desperately need.

I felt angry that the government programs are so poorly run and underfunded that the wait list for help for severely disabled children in our state is 13-15 years long here. 

I felt angry that we had to work 10,000 times harder and longer for a single word than other kids.

I felt angry that other families can plan vacations or be spontaneous when we may never be able to.

I felt angry that my husband has had to work multiple jobs, almost every waking minute, for years, just to cover basic living expenses and medical care for my girls.

I felt angry that our weekends are monopolized by things like trying to teach Chelsea how to wipe after going potty when I just wanted to have fun family bike rides or go to the water park.

I felt angry that I have been deprived of the mother/ daughter relationship I wanted. I won't get to stay up to talk over that first date, or get invited to stay with my daughter after she has her first baby.

I felt angry that I don't have time or energy for my own wants because I am in constant crisis management mode at home.

I felt angry that the schools do the bare minimum and then try to take credit for the achievements that I was solely responsible for after hundreds or thousands of hours of work.

I felt angry that I have to fight for every minute of service, every dollar of insurance coverage, everything.

I felt angry that people are scared of Chelsea when she makes loud noises.

I felt angry that other people can plan for their retirement dreams, and the only thing in my future is caring for disabled children.

I felt angry that Chelsea has negative behaviors still after we have worked on them for years and years.

I felt angry that I have dealt with more potty accidents from just Chelsea than most moms who have 6-8 typical children deal with all together.

I felt angry that my house can't stay clean when I just want some semblance of order in my otherwise chaotic life.

I felt angry that I wanted a clean house when I should just be enjoying making messes and memories with my kids while they are little.

I felt angry that other parents can relax and enjoy their children when I have to capitalize on every second, working in therapy when it would be a million times easier to have a kid that just learns on their own.

I felt angry that people use the R word.

I felt angry that people don't want to hear about the difficulties I face, because they just want to hear that everything will have a happily ever after.

I felt angry with the injustice of me getting 2 special needs kids when I am an awesome mom and made sure to do everything right before and during pregnancy to insure my child's health

I felt angry that I was feeling angry about everything when I have so much to be grateful for. 


I know this will pass and that I will return to my normal self, but it is still difficult to process these raw emotions sometimes. I'm not looking for pity or sympathy, just trying to show what some of that anger cycle of grieving looks like for me.