The following words are not mine. They are from a friend who is foraging a path through the forest of Autism that I will be travelling at some point. It was a private message to me. She has a son on the spectrum. And like all of us, she loves her son. Even when the autism doesn't make it easy. Unless you've traveled this path, please do not dare to judge. (I asked for her permission to publish this. Names have been removed to respect her wishes. Her wishes for her son to never know how she struggles because she doesn't ever want him to doubt her love for him made me think about how much I complain about my son. She humbles me for more reasons than this.) I'm going to shut up now and let her "speak"; please listen. Sometimes we need to give each other our voices too.
You know, I don't post as openly about autism on my Facebook because I never want my son to see me ranting about him when he is on FB. Stinks when they grow up. But boy, today has been a day. And, I'm betting my 17 year-old doesn't appear to be all that different from your little boy today. He is on spring break. Spring break, and all other school breaks are a nightmare for those with autism. They just screw up the routine!
He went on an impulsive eating binge while I was in the shower- marshmallows, raw carrots, chocolate cake, funions, ovaltine and milk- and then threw up. Like a toddler I might add, leaving the mess for someone else to clean up while he stormed off slamming doors and screaming. He refused to go to the psychiatrist for his appointment. He dumped chips into the dishwasher his little sister was unloading--leaving her in a fit of tears.
And now, while we wait on the in-home therapist to come and help get him checked into temporary respite care (that is the 'treatment plan' for when he creates a hostile or fearful environment in the home) he is sleeping like a baby which only makes us clench our fists and doubt ourselves for following the treatment plan.
And when it is all said and done tonight, I will have to deal with my mom and husband's mom and the brother-in-law who all sit in judgement because somehow we were responsible for his behavior and didn't handle it right. And then when we lay down to sleep we will beat ourselves up yet again for sending him away and wonder what we could have done to make it all go differently and then we'll surrender because we know we've done everything we possibly can. We'll remind ourselves that working toward long-term assisted living really is the right thing to do for him and then we'll cry ourselves to sleep because it hurts.
I am so mad right now because I want to tell this to the world, but I can't because my son might see it and he might not understand that we love him more than anything in the world even though we struggle so much with his behavior. So I share it silently with another mom who's 'been there' and try to hold my head up high
Man - I get it. When those bad moments come, you wonder what did I do wrong? How can I fix this? Then they are followed by moments when you wonder if you over-reacted, maybe it's not as bad as you think it is. When the bad moments come we think we need to get him out of our house, he needs to be somewhere else and then the good moments come and I feel horrible for feeling like he needed to leave. I'm sure it's my fault, I wasn't strict enough or maybe I was too strict. Maybe I don't give him enough room to grow up or maybe I give him too much freedom. I wish there was an easy solution but I think it's just time. We have to wait out this storm like any other.
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