The invisible shield

This was a journal entry of mine from last week.

I look into his eyes. I feel his pain. I see the fear. I hear the words of hate that spill from his mouth with an eerie ease. I know the words are not truly meant for me. Instead, he says them to me as a way of disguising everything he feels inside.

I put up my shield...the invisible shield that is meant to protect me from the pain and hurt his words cause. The shield is dented and damaged. It still does its best to protect me, but it is not as strong as it once was.

It is so hard to explain the pain of watching my child with Asperger's struggle to find himself. The stage between childhood and adulthood is steep and treacherous, and for him there are so many more obstacles in the way.

I am "Mom". I am the one he trusts. I am the one he speaks to about his thoughts and fears. I am the one he turns to when no one else is around. I am the one at whom he screams and yells. I am the one who he blames for all of life's woes. I am the one who he knows with certainty will always love him.

I am "Mom". I am the one whose heart stings constantly from watching his pain . Who never wants to see him hurt. Who wants to teach him right from wrong. Who wants to teach him to respect but doesn't know how. The one whose feelings are hurt so often, but whose love is never ending.

Some days there are no right answers. Sometimes on those days when he is struggling and his words flow from his mouth like venom, my conscious, my head, my heart and my anger all mixed together in one large melting pot. Sometimes I struggle to keep that shield to my heart in place.

I struggle with whether the things he says are his personality or Asperger's. Does it matter?
How do I keep him from hurting others with his words? How do I keep him from losing important relationships because he does not know the right things to say? Does anything I say actually stick? Currently, my list of questions seems much longer than my list of answers.

There are very few things I am sure of these days, but I am sure that it is my job, as his mother, to turn him into a respectful young man. A young man that will one day turn into a wonderful husband, father, and friend. I am sure that my love for him, although not without mistakes, will never give up on my beautiful son.