I know that it may sound silly, but I feel calling our children “limited edition” is a fun way to express how unique and special they are to us. It’s like they’re one-of-a-kind treasures that we get to cherish every day. Of course having this collectable mindset about children can be seen as materialistic and objectifying, but I truly believe it comes from a place of love and appreciation for their individuality. But unlike having a collectible item, having a collectible child is a lifelong responsibility and privilege. It also comes with gray hair and wrinkles from all the stress and worry that we have for our children. We worry immensely about what will happen to our children when we are gone. The sad fact is that many of us have health problems of our own, and we put our children first. We neglect our own care. I have found that journaling and sharing my experience helps at times. It is important to take care of ourselves so that we can be there for our children in the long run.

Other parents and caregivers turn this into poetry and storytelling. When in the realm of poetry and storytelling, the emotions run deep, often delving into the complexities of mental health struggles such as depression and anxiety. These poems provide a raw and honest exploration of these internal battles, offering solace and understanding to those who may be experiencing similar feelings. and personal experiences are often expressed with raw honesty. Poems about depression and anxiety offer a powerful insight into the internal struggles and turmoil faced by individuals battling mental health issues. Through vivid imagery and poignant words, these poems explore the complexities of mental illness and provide a platform for catharsis (the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions). The idea is to form an understanding for the people reading. Lately for me that is a sense of loneliness and isolation that seems impossible to break free from. It is not the absence of others, but the feeling of being disconnected even while surrounded by people. It is the absence of understanding, connection, or belonging. I am talking about craving genuine human connection and intimacy.
You can sit at a crowded table and still feel invisible. Sometimes, being in a crowd only makes it worse to feel truly invisible or unheard. It’s not physical proximity that dispels loneliness, but emotional resonance—someone who listens, understands, and accepts you as you are.
Loneliness often whispers in moments when our true selves go unnoticed, our emotions are unshared, and our dreams are unspoken. It’s a quiet reminder that company and connection are not the same thing.
The journey out of loneliness isn’t always about seeking more people. Sometimes, it’s about seeking the right people—or, in some cases, learning to find comfort and meaning in your own company.
Loneliness can be a powerful teacher, forcing us to confront our own insecurities and vulnerabilities. It challenges us to become more self-aware, to understand our own needs and desires, and to cultivate a sense of inner peace and contentment. In a world that often values external validation and social approval, learning to be comfortable in our own skin can be a radical act of self-love. It is a journey that requires courage, patience, and resilience but ultimately leads to a deeper sense of connection and fulfillment.
Writing about intensely positive emotional experiences can lead to physical health benefits and enhanced psychological well-being. Research has shown that focusing on positive aspects, such as writing about the best possible future selves, can have similar health benefits as writing about trauma. This type of writing allows individuals to gain insight into their priorities and emotions, leading to improved self-regulation and overall well-being (Chad& Laura 2004). A wise man once told me and he says it almost exactly how I want to express it to the world. I did not choose this life– but I’ve learned to love it in ways I never expected. Being a special needs parent means living in a world that not everyone understands. It is celebrating milestones that others might overlook, finding joy in the smallest victories, and learning patience on a level most people never have to reach. There are days fill with exhaustion, questions, and quiet tears- but there are also moments of pure, unmatched love that make everything feel worth it. Moments that remind me that my child is not “less than”- just beautifully different. Autism, in particular, has taught me to slow down, to see the world through a different lens. To communicate beyond words, and to love without conditions. My faith has also been my anchor. On the days I don’t understand the “why,” I lean into the belief that there is a purpose in this journey. That I was chosen for this path for a reason, even when it feels heavy.
Chad, & Laura. (2004). Journal of research in personality 38 no. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0092656603000588



