The Aftermath

One might think that the resolution would bring an element of peace. Certainly, there are things to ponder and improvements to make, but one would think that a calm might set in now that an ending has come.

Since Aaron's arrival back with the family, I find myself in the midst of extreme anxiety. It did not subside when the summons was fulfilled. The relief I expected now that my son was no longer  anxious and in despair did not arrive.

Aaron's entry back into family was smooth.... and overwhelming... for us. He talked non-stop from Sedalia to Colorado Springs and back to Boulder. That's a nine hour journey (we stopped at the zoo in Colorado Springs). We learned so much about Ramah in the Rockies (it sounds like such an amazing place - when is family camp?!?) and the boys in his bunk (I know where they live, whether or not they are home schooled, if they've been to Ramah - Rockies before), and the food that was served (we heard that was the worst part about camp, but  - according to Aaron - it was one of the best parts - especially that blueberry cake like stuff they served).

I had to remind myself that this was a relieved child that we had picked up, and his relief was almost instantaneous. He was back with his family where he felt safe. And everything came rushing out.

If I pause to view this whole situation from Aaron's perspective, I imagine this is what he might say:

Dear Mom & Dad:

I know you are disappointed that I was not able to enjoy myself at camp.  I know this because you told me, and I listen to what you say. I know you understand how hard it is for me to be away from you, how difficult it is to face new things without the security and safety of my family nearby for support.

There were sooo many new things at camp. They did not know that I like to lay in bed for awhile before starting my day, that I need that time to adjust to another day beginning.  I wasn't able to tell them that because, well, I didn't really know that that is what I do either. 

There were so many new faces at camp. And some old faces, but I haven't seen those old faces in so long. And some of the people in my cabin have so much energy, and they are loud.  And it overcomes me and paralyzes me.  It might be normal, but it's not me and it's a lot for me to take in.

There were so many new things to try at camp.  And each of those new things - no matter how excited I was about them - was terrifying.  It takes so much energy to try something new, and it drains me. There was no time to rest between trying new things.  It's such a busy day, non-stop, and that's hard for someone like me who needs time to recharge and who gets drained from outwardly social activities. You and dad should be able to relate to that.  I think I got a piece of introversion from both of you, so I guess that means I have 2.3654 times more introverted energy than both of you have.

I like routine. You know I do.  I like to know what to expect. I'm not sure you properly prepared me for what camp was like. I know you tried your best, and you did do so many good things - like taking me to Gabi's house to hear about camp and to ask him any questions I had (you asked all the questions I was thinking of but was afraid to ask - the silly ones - like where do you shower?). 

I heard you say that we should have gone up early, and we should have created a map. That would have helped. You know I like to know a space before I enter it. Familiar spaces are easier to enter. And, now that I'm thinking about it, it might have been nice to meet my counselors before camp started.  I know that's not usual and most kids are happy to meet their counselors when they get off the bus, but - for me - I would like to meet them beforehand. 

I know that you recognize how much courage it took for me to tell you I wanted to go, and I know you are proud of me.  I know you know how hard it was the night before I left and started crying and telling you I didn't want to go.  But, I got on that bus and I know that made you happy.

I listened to what you told me and I tried everything I could. I tried to like it.  I gave it a chance.  I hope you know that I did.  But my anxiety was like a roadblock and I couldn't break through it.

(I have to tell you, mom and dad, that since I've been back - I've gone to the bathroom more times than I did while I was at camp - which was none at all - and my throat has been hurting and I'm under the weather.  All of that could definitely have had an impact on my experience at camp.)

I know I told my counselors that I hated everything and I hated that place, but I know you know that it had an impact - a positive impact - on me because I can't stop talking about it. And I remember how to cook hash browns outside, and I remember how to tie a knot with a rope, and I'm still trying new foods now that I am back with you.

Sure, there were things that could have been done differently.  And, maybe if we do them in the future (not next year, mom) - they will help me adjust better to camp. But, I don't want you to regret picking me up or get mad at camp for not doing more to help me enjoy myself. 

Now that I am back with you, I can see what my nervousness did to me.  It was paralyzing; I couldn't move. I couldn't feel joy.  I just felt empty and like I needed you.  Thank you for understanding me and for accepting me for who I am, mom and dad.  That's what I needed most of all.