I woke up this morning full of dread and anxiety. We had a good weekend, and I was thankful for the extra day, especially since we didn’t get to sleep in at all Saturday or Sunday. Little Man had some serious ups and downs. But today is a school day, and while I’m thankful for the personal respite of having him at school, I don’t have any control over his day. I can’t fix anything. I just sit here and wait for the phone to ring, or the email to come in. I’m exhausted once again, trying desperately to control what I can to at least bring his starting point up a bit. We’ve gone backwards a couple of years. It’s a dark place. I don’t like it.
We were in such a good place last year. I could drop him off at school and go do what I needed to do without feeling I needed to have phone in hand constantly. I saw very few days where he was mentally putting on his armor to face the day as he got out of the car in the drop-off loop. These days, he spends the fifteen-minute drive to his new school gearing up. I hate this, for him more than anything.
I’ve always said I will always keep it real here. Lately, I’d love to drop kick autism. Am I worried someday he’s going to read this and think I didn’t love him just as he is? Nope. Not at all. He knows this is hard, trust me. Me hiding it, or trying to hide it, won’t change that. We’re both battling right now, fighting our way through each day. I hate that I lose patience. I hate that I want sometimes to not have to deal with decompression time, weighted blankets, him hiding in small corners, the noises, the tics, the slim-to-none food choices, the constantly trying to figure out what will work today to bring him back to where he was just a few short months ago. I hate the pain I see in his eyes, the tears that flow, the apologies he tosses around all day long, especially after a meltdown or after he’s lashed out at everyone and everything.
I’m struggling to see the bright side, the fun and awesome things about who he is. Those sun-filled moments are few and far between lately. It. Sucks.
I know things will get better. We have been in this exact spot before. I just remember how much work, and how long, it took to get him to a good place. These days, I’m constantly reminding him of his tools to use when he’s going sideways, constantly trying to not let his angry words get to me. I need that magic wand, or to give autism a swift kick. Something is going to give. I just hope it’s not either of us.