Through a Forest, Blindly

There is absolutely nothing to write about today—other than it was a terrible day.
Autism isn't pretty—neither is ADHD.
Combine two people with two different neurodiversities, and well, sometimes sparks fly.

Sparks flew today over the stupidest thing, and Badger has not emerged from her room.
That left me to entertain myself, which, you know, I do most days anyway.

So it was a TV, TV, TV day.
And yeah, most days are like that, but at least Badger watches with me or pops out of her room to chatter a bit.
Today, she's given me the old silence treatment.

Eh, 🤷🏻‍♀️—it is what it is.

Realizing your parents are human, make mistakes, and have feelings of their own is part of growing up.

Badger is 23 now.
 Most young adults her age have stepped out into the world—made mistakes, learned from them, separated from their parents, and started becoming who they’re going to be.
But when the pandemic hit, she had just turned 18.
That timing mattered.
The world shut down right when she should’ve been stepping out.
No job market. No social life. No safe way to explore or fail or grow.
Then came the disability paperwork, with rules that don’t bend.
She can’t work. She could live away from us, but if she does, they’ll slash her check.
And Covid hasn’t gone away.
She’s still scared of a third infection, so she’s not willing to get out there.
We’re stuck in an unhealthy pattern.
She needs more independence.
But the rules can’t be changed, and I don’t know how to navigate a path that gives her the freedom she deserves without risking everything she depends on.

I’m not so stupid that I don’t see how miserable her life is.
She has dreams of her own—real ones.
And I don’t know how to give them to her.

As a mother, you want to give your child the world. 
As an autism mother, you’re left clueless about how to do that.

I don’t have a solution. 
I’ve busted my rear end trying to get Badger the help she needs, trying to make her life better—and I’ve failed. 
She’s miserable, and I don’t know how to make it better.

She sees me as the cruel prison guard keeping her locked away, but in truth, I’m just a mother lost in a forest, trying to find a way out for both of us.