Diego is regressing.
Behavior, play, temperment….all of it.
As if I needed it, indicators of this are below.
He hasn’t done this in ages, but on two separate days this week this is what he has done.
All of his play has been scripted or things he has learned from his play therapist (pretending the floor is “hot lava” or “the ocean”).
When he does the learned play, he says ” I am using my imagination.”
My monster….he is trying so hard.
Every time I see a row of cars or animals, or hear his scripted play, I fight a complete breakdown.
Although I don’t cry as much as I used to, it seems most of the despair ahs been replaced by pure panic. I am terrified at the thought of the future. So much of our lives feels up in the air and the fear is crippling.
I have taken a renewed interest in my health, honestly only because the thought of my passing and nobody being here to take proper care of Diego is enough to incite a panic attack.
I wish that I could explain this feeling that I carry. It sits in the pit of my stomach,and it never leaves. If I pay too much attention to it, it renders me helpless.
So I just try not to.