Mama soldiers on

I'm feeling rather victorious today. It's one of those mommy days wear at the end I feel like I should be sheathing a sword, wiping off braveheart makeup, and drinking mead by a campfire telling of my many victories in battle.
We've certainly not been without our battles as of late. At times I've felt like life just declared a giant goddamn jihad on me and kiddo. But one by one we've stood up and toppled the enemy, or are at least making some severe headway into their territory.
For starters, my ex is pretty much leaving me alone, and providing the information I need as fast as he's able. He's either smart enough to realize that what I'm doing is what's best for our child, or just knows if he tries to mess with me I'll unleash an unholy wrath upon him. Either works for me, as the state of calm has provided me a breather. I know it's foolish to think he and I will be on smooth sailing for good, but at least getting a temporary repreive from him being a complete ass is a good thing.
And kiddo, well, he's doing a lot better. The meds have him more able to focus, which in turn keeps him from losing control all the time. I watched, from another room, him do his entire homework sheet by himself. In the past, I had to sit next to him, wrangling his focus back to the page with every single question. 1 sheet of 1st grade math would take over an hour. But now, in just 15 minutes he chirps "I'm done!"
The therapy sessions have allowed him to start using words during his troubled times, which he didn't before. The devastation at this recent loss he's felt is now quite palpable, and he's grown very clingy to his support structure (myself, his teachers). But instead of going into a complete panic, he now can verbalize that he needs a hug, or just to be held, or blurts out a fearful question. I expect he'll greive for some time, but at least I am now in better control of my own so as I may help him cope with this.
We'll be seeing a pediatric neuropsychologist for a full diagnostic evaluation on his delays, and will hopefully be moving towards the "big answer". That doctor will be writing up enhancements to the current IEP to help him in a more focused way than before. My biggest battle, facing the district's desire to change his placement, has officially been qwelched. I have full written assurances that they will follow Doc Lewis's IEP enhancements to the letter, and will be integrating a biweekly therapy report as we get them. Apparently seeing the crazy lengths I am willing to go to just to ensure he's got what he needs will scare the bejesus out of any administrator.
Has this been an arduous path? God, yes. The battle to the court room, the frantic doctor lineup, dragging him all over the northend to each doctor appointment and back, facing busses, rain, and meltdowns every step of the way. The night we came home after getting through the third doctor visit, perscription in hand, I remember just sitting here, bawling. Feeling victorious, yet overwhelmed, and alone, I cried until I was shaking, then laid on the couch and stared at the wall. Then I got back up, dragged myself back to the computer, and ordered the obscure reference books his therapist suggested I read.
I still feel really foolish about having to see my own therapist, but at least he's a doctor I feel comfortable working with. I told him I didn't want to be a little girl whining on a couch because a boy threw something in my hair and he laughed. I'm warily re-acquainting myself with food, and have "given myself permission" to eat raw vegetables. I made and froze a bunch of meatballs in hopes that I can just seduce myself into a full meal. I don't want to feel like this anymore, worthless, like I was trash just discarded at the curb. The hunger only makes it worse, because after weeks my body is wracked with hunger pains and my digestive system is rebelling on all fronts. But the doc and I will work towards rebuilding me into a human, beyond just the "supermom" mode I've autopiloted into. The cape is easy to put on when you don't want to be the woman underneith it.
With the tax refund, I was able to get myself things that "retail therapied" my heart into a better place. A box of hair dye, a pretty outfit, and an incredibly oddball bedset that can only be described as "very me". I'm reaching out to socialize, and find myself coming back into my own skin with each moment I enjoy with my awesome friends. The road out of this mess is becoming more well lit and easier to travel every day. I just need to take it one very small step at a time.