08/09/2026
It marks a year that my mental health slowly started creeping back in on me.
A few days ago I cried for myself for that girl that was on the ultimate life high for several years in a row after several years of a deteriorating mental health journey.
In those several good years I had some lows, but nothing I couldn't drag myself out of quickly.
I was even able to pull myself out of my own deep pool of pity when we received our daughters final diagnosis.
I was so freaking strong.
Endless energy, always smiling, always seeing the good in any bad, always being the person smiling at the stranger that seemed to need it instead of allowing their negative energy to reflect back on me.
I felt like I was finally truly loving life and found myself.
I did find myself.
I knew exactly who I was.
But this time last year, with one single action, without even realizing it, my world started to crumble around me.
You're warned of the heartache of watching your disable child not have a voice and people using that to their advantage.
You are warned of the anger you'll experience when you have to step out of yourself to advocate for your disabled child in situations you never should.
Last year at this time I started to realize that not every person had the best interest in mind for her.
This time last year was my first time experience the feeling of having to advocate for her in the last setting I should ever have to advocate for her at.
This time last year I lost so much sleep so concerned on what my girls school year would look like.
Some how I knew deep down what was coming.
I didn't understand it then, but looking back, I freaking knew.
That gut feeling is never wrong.
The year before was a struggle, but there was growth.
But then you start to realize your only a week out from school starting and not a single sole took even a moment to make a game plan for my girl.
No plan, no communication, fully and intentionally not giving my daughter even a moment of their time.
I was lied to, minipulated, told inaccurate information and I
I sat back in completely disbelief watching my daughter be completely failed by those who should be her biggest advocates outside of her home.
It was beyond obvious after less then a month into the school year that there wasn't an ounce of patience for my daughters needs.
There was absolutely no game plan.
She was treated like a nuisance in the corner and they looked for any way to get her out of the school as quickly as possible, usually within an hour of her day.
Every day we would get a paragraph long of what went wrong and every once in a blue moon we would get a quick two sentence message of a positive.
And then the blind conference call in September...
That was it for me.
They scheduled a conference call with us leaving out the information that they would have a school for disabled children on the line as well.
They left us with the assumption that this phone call was simply for communication purposes.
But before that phone call I remember telling Anthony I knew exactly what they were going to be saying.
Man did I know but didn't want to see it.
Flat out and simple, they couldn't meet our daughters needs so they are handing the torch over.
Speechless isn't the word.
Since that call, excuse my language, I've been f'ed up.
These people who should have been our SUPPORTERS went behind our back, included this other school on this conference call and completely blindsided us with not even a moment to realize what just happened or a second to make a well thought decision.
Let's just say my daughter attended that school bare minimum until the transfer could be made.
My daughter was not safe in a place I thought she should be safe.
My daughter does not have her own voice to advocate for herself so you are damned if you think I'll allow my innocent daughter in that position.
I mean what is one hour a day of education doing anyways when in that hour all they are causing is trauma on a girl that should never carry trauma.
The God in me truly hopes their hearts never feel how they left us feeling.
But the human in me hopes for the day they can eat their own words.
I won't throw out school names because I am grateful enough to still carry respect.
What I will say is Watson Institute has been a God sent.
They are kind of like the good man that takes on the trauma that someone else created and somehow is able to cure it.
But these last few months I've been realizing that even after my daughter dug herself out of the hole that the district caused, I was still sitting in it.
My heart has never hurt so hard as it did realizing the mistake I made giving that district a chance.
Knowing how my daughter was treated and I wasn't there to protect her.
Knowing those who I chose to trust completely betrayed the most innocent little girl I've ever met.
Nothing gets to my heart like my girl.
She didn't ask for this life.
She didn't ask for these struggles.
She didn't ask for any of this.
But it's been a year, and without realizing it I'm still allowing their actions to hurt me.
Maybe not their actions directly, but I haven't allowed my heart to heal.
It was the biggest jab I've ever felt.
The biggest betrayal and sadness.
I completely shut down.
I just started living with the motions day to day.
I'm not present.
I'm so distracted.
And don't get me wrong, there's been good days.
But I just never truly healed since that wound was sliced open.
But today it hit me that it's been a year.
An entire year.
It's been a whole year that I sat on this exact seat on this exact porch and cried because the momma heart in me knew what was coming, I just couldn't fully see it yet.
But it's been a year.
And there has been so much GOOD!
There has been so much growth.
And holding on to that anger isn't worth it.
I think I'll always find a little bit of rage in me when I think back on how everything was handled.
But I can't let the rage just slowly boil anymore either.
My girl is the strongest girl I know.
I feel sorry not everyone gets to experience her love.
It's incredible.
And if she can let it go, then I can too.
That's the beauty in autism.
It's like a version of God.
They only see the best.
They are always happy.
They are always willing to show love and compassion.
So maybe it's "us" that are the messed up ones.
They may feel more and harder.
But maybe that just shows how much of their heart they have open, like our Lord.
Autism sucks so bad.
But when you find the beauty in it, you realize it's not so bad.
There is so much love mixed with it.
There is so much strength mixed with it.
There is so much knowledge mixed with it.
It truly is incredible.
I'm still waiting to fully understand why it was my girl that has to go through these struggles.
But I do know we are right where God wants us to be.
And one day we will be able to look back and see why.
And on my bad days, all I need to do is remind myself that God has that much respect and confidence in me to give me such a perfect representation of all of our Lord to travel through life with.
And when I think about that, I'm reminded that everything is going to be just fine.
