Well, guess what? Raising a child with special needs is no picnic. The autism is hard and then you throw in severe epilepsy and our life is unfortunate, painful, sad, depressing, frustrating, scary, exhausting, miserable, daunting, dangerous, terrorizing and tragic.
Some days I just cry. Some days I am devastated.
I can't pretend this isn't heartbreaking. I can't pretend this isn't happening. I can't put on a happy face and pretend everything is Honky-Dorry so that my blog can invigorate you. That's not my job. My life is not rainbows, unicorns and sunshine.
I cannot find the goodness in epilepsy and anticonvulsants and I refuse to be fake. What you see and read is what you get. It's all me. The good and the bad. When I'm having a good day, you will know it--my good days are gauged by the number of seizures the Doodle is having.
I'm all for constructive criticism but if you think I complain too much, I'm too sad and negative-- then what are you doing here? Don't read my blog. I promise you, I will not be offended.
So until you've walked in my shoes and had to take care of your very sick baby every day that is not getting better, but actually worse, and you do not know why or what the future holds, then keep your judgements and advice to yourself.
Everyone's a critic.