Treadmills and Pirate Ships

It's incredible how powerful you can feel when you just push yourself to your own limits, both physically and mentally. Every day, I climb on a treadmill and don't stop pounding away until I have sweat pouring off me and my legs feel weak. I put on thumping, face paced and angry music, gritting my teeth as I watch the calories click by. I don't have any quaint notions of trimming back down to a "stripper bod", but I want to recarve myself into a lean(ish) fighting machine again. Because that's what I feel like I need to be right now. When I slide my jeans back on and realize they are fitting losely, I feel the strength to want to do this again, tomorrow. This is for me, now, no one else. It's allowed me to start kind of eating normally again, because I'm pushing away the self-manufactured guilt of eating a damn tortilla chip. Meh, I'll burn it off tomorrow. And I do.
My brain is on it's own treadmill, of sorts. I have stacks of books I pour through on brain dysfunctions, and new parenting techniques for children with these conditions. I spend hours scanning through websites of neurological studies and educational procedures for kids like him. I cram information into myself every night, because I want...I need the absolute best for him. There's no option to be a bad parent here, it's go full bore or give up. And this mama doesn't give up. So I study, I research, I collect every scrap of information that I can until I start seeing double and have to cross check with three different books what I just read. My head spins with case studies and diagnosis criteria, but I force all the information in so I know I'm on the right path, and know what questions to ask which doctor.
And then, there's the relaxed moment I have in my own doctor's office. Confronting fears, yes, it's scary, but at least it's progress. The discussions about my past turn now to discussions of what I want in my future. Granted, I have to accept my past, and learn from it, but we're working on it. I'm even letting go of a bit of the bitterness, and coming to terms with what went wrong, and what I should've seen. We've built an amusing metaphor about what I want now, and it consists of a pretty little blue house with a dog in the yard, but the picket fence I painted black with spikes. I should expect only to be accepted for all of me, not just tolerated for portions of me.
That person should think I am beautiful, even when I don't.
They should love and encourage my intellect, and match it with theirs.
They should want me as much as I want them.
They should appreciate the "grown up" moments, of cooking dinner together and checking out an art gallery.
They should love my not so grown up moments, playing video games and collecting Jack Skellingtons, and share in my stupid excitement over a muppet movie.
They shouldn't think I'll outgrow the hello kitty thing.
They should love my son, and genuinely want to be a part of his life.
They will NEVER see his disability as a hindrance, and will see (and love) the beauty inside of him.
They should be truely supportive, hold my hand when I need it, and allow me to hold theirs.
They should appreciate all I give, and remember to tell me that when I think they didn't notice.
They'll have a quiet dinner with the folks, and still enjoy seeing me in a corset down at the club.
They can be cool with me going off and painting for days at a time, because we'll reconnect over dinner every night.
They'll get that I want to game, because they will, too.
They should want to build that future together with me, instead of just sitting by watching me attempt it on my own.
"I want to turn to that person and say...can I build a pirate ship in the backyard?"
"and he should say back..I love you and I'll go make the flag!"
I don't want to look for him right now, because I need to let go of a lot of resentment and distrust still. I need time to crawl back into my own skin, and be okay with that skin. I need to take care of my son right now, and not have any distractions. But in a year or so, maybe, just maybe...I'll go see if I can find that first mate.