The Patty project

I’m having one of those days.

I don’t often give myself permission to laze around and rest. I’m not sure if it’s my ADHD… or the decades spent parenting autism.

Maybe it’s both.

My lot are now 25, 26 and 30 (yes, I started young).

One rarely slept in those early years and was physically attached to me — arms, legs, hands. I hoped things would improve when school started. Instead, anxiety skyrocketed. Emotional breakdowns came with tears, snot, and vomit. Primary school had its moments… but high school? That’s when the big emotions and big events arrived.

In the mix, we also had ADHD, Dyslexia and ODD. If you’ve parented ODD, you know.

The questioning.

The arguing.

The testing of patience over almost everything.

Learning was hard, but they were fun, social, kind-hearted — and that mattered.

And then there was my inattentive/hyperactive child — navigating far more than she should have been — while her young mum was carrying unresolved trauma, undiagnosed ADHD, depression, anxiety and mental overload. The awareness to see that she also needed support wasn’t there. I was surviving, not analysing.

So yes… back to this “lazy” morning.

During my seven-day week, I allow myself three days to sleep in. I work full-time permanently and fit casual work in between.

Rest doesn’t come naturally to me.

Sitting still feels unfamiliar.

Even now, as I get older and better at reading my body, it still feels like I’m learning something new.

This morning I stayed in bed a little longer. Boiled the kettle. Had a chat with my dog. We both made our way to the loungeroom. I grabbed the comfy blanket — the one that matched how I was feeling — and lay down.

Trying to relax.

Trying to let my nervous system settle.

I wasn’t able to do this for over twenty years. When you parent children who struggle with emotions, sounds, textures, language, regulation — you live in a heightened state.

It’s not dramatic.

It’s not optional.

It’s adaptive.

You become their co-regulator.

Their safe place.

Their interpreter.

Their advocate.

Their everything.

Your body learns vigilance.

Your mind learns to anticipate.

Your nervous system rarely switches off.

So for those who can’t quite relate — lucky you — but I hope this gives a little understanding.

And for the mums who do relate…

This morning, I rest.

I give myself permission to let go.

To not fix.

To not plan.

To not hold.

To just be.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s its own kind of healing.

Patty x