There are some days autism wins, and some days we kick butt. Today would be one of the losing days. I won’t go into detail – it’s too exhausting and overwhelming at the moment – but it you’re the praying type, send some up for Little Man, send some good thoughts his way.
I’m back to feeling, with one phone call, I must be on constant alert, available to drop what I’m doing and run to his school. I’m holding my phone in one hand, sweeping the floor with the other hand. Yes, it’s that bad. I haven’t felt this way in a year. Every nerve is stretched. My heart is aching. At the same time, I’m completely angry.
I don’t get it. He was so excited to go to school this morning. This was, of course, after he let us know all the time he was getting ready he was really rather ticked over being awake and having to go through the morning routine. There was a lot of stomping, slamming, growling, and yelling for about half an hour. But then in the car on the way to school, he was smiling, so content, and told me he was so excited to be going to this school. Four hours later, the social worker calls. His day had turned upside down. He was in her office and would probably remain there the rest of the day.
I’m scrambling trying to figure out what we need to do, how we need to do it. What more can we give him, do for him? We just saw his psychiatrist the other day. He had nothing but good things to say. I’m thinking about the changes we will need to make at home for awhile, and what that means for me as well as his siblings and Spouse. I hate this. I want to say bad words right now. I want to run, yelling and screaming. I’d like to find autism and punch it in the face.