Waiting For Light

My daughter is sixteen years old now. She made a couple of comments on my blog here. She doesn't often have anything nice to say to me, but her comments meant a lot to me. In a couple of years she'll be eighteen and I can put her out on her butt if she continues to be uncooperative.

It could be worse. As a person with Asperger's Syndrome (a form of Autism), she's not a people person. She's loud, rude and obnoxious. Sounds like a typical teen, I know, but she's not. Things I'm grateful for with her, she's not running the street getting high or anything and she doesn't have a boyfriend or anything so I don't have to make him disappear. She's actually fairly smart, but not smart enough. She could be a straight A student if she applied herself. But she won't, so she's basically a straight F student.

I just can't seem to get her to understand that this is the foundation of her life she's laying. We don't all grow up to be beautiful movie stars. Most of us just count ourselves lucky if we can have a half way decent middle class life style. I know I hate being alone. I hate that my children's fathers are assholes. It's not fair that all they had was me. But it could have been worse. My daughter understands this much. She's spoken to my mother on the phone a few times and her reaction is that grandma is crazy.

Crazy? I'm not sure I know what sane is. I just get up everyday and hope that today will be better than yesterday. I think that after a spend a few minutes trying to remember my name, and spending a couple of minutes being pissed that I woke up still breathing and I'm still me. I know it could be so much worse. I just don't want it to get any worse.

I'm one of those people who needs to be busy. I like to work and I'm a hard worker. I like being self sufficient. I don't like asking for help. I'm really bad at that. Usually, by the time I do that, asks for help that is, things have gotten really bad. So, by the time I asks for help I usually needed it months before that. I'm trying so hard not to be depressed, but it's hard when you're fumbling in the dark waiting for a little light to shine, just a little illumination.