Finally lost it
by, 01-20-2011 at 06:55 PM (1264 Views)
I have a lot of patience when it comes to my kid. I mean, I've never raised a hand to him and I'm very cautious about the things I say. I one of those big "positive reinforcement" people. With his autism, I've had so much coaching and for the most part, raised a kid who thinks well of himself. But today I lost it.
We got ten inches of snow here in the Midwest No big deal. I had prepared and we had plenty of food and games and movies. But last night my son bought a game from one of those used game places (I warned him to buy new but he has the hardest head I know) and naturally, it didn't work. He was just furious. Autistics can get obsessed and can become really emotionally and physically difficult if things don't get straightened out right away. Well, it was 10:00am, 20 degrees and with 10 inches of snow, I wasn't going to move heaven and earth to get the damned game returned when one more day would make things considerably easier. Shoveling snow for me is sheer torture and he has crummy muscle structure, again due to the autism, so melting was going to pretty much be our only way out of this.
Next thing I know, he's throwing on this mixed up bag of clothes and is going to walk to the store to switch out the game. I can't get this kid to walk downstairs and bring up a load of laundry but he can go the mile for this dumb game. Me, thinking this will never happen, lets him leave. Okay, ten minutes later it's obvious he's gone to the store. Now I have to shovel the driveway because I can't have him wandering the streets in 20 degree weather without even gloves.
Skip ahead and I'm in horrible pain from scooping and the wheezing in my lungs has started again. I get in the car to go find him. Make no mistake, I'm mad as hell when I find him. Then he starts in..."I rule this house! You can't do anything. What you have is worse than cancer so how are you going to stop me from doing what I want to do..." There were a couple of implied threats so the minute we walk in the door, I call 911. We've been down this road before, many years ago, during another psychotic break but now he's 6 ft tall an 224lbs. I am NOT going to have any child tell me that he runs my house or threaten me in my home, no matter how much I love him and realize he's sick.
So the officers show up and they are outstanding at scaring the hell out of kids. By then I'm wheezing, have the full malar rash, am crumbled against a wall - no need to fake any drama here - so the officer points out that he'll be happy to come back any time my son needs reminding on just how good he has it. Then they promptly sent him out to scoop more snow. God bless the police! Anyway, for the first time in16 years, some of them very, very hard years, I couldn't take it anymore. I just couldn't deal with the idea of a night in the ER due to my wheezing or if I screwed up my back even more. My son, more than anyone else, has watched this disease eat me alive and to snarl out threats over how weak and helpless I am, it was just too much!
I called my folks and told them that he would be staying with them for a few days and if that was inconvenient, I would take him to the local psych ward. My mom immediately starts minimizing everything and for the first time ever I literally growled that I do not deserve to be treated this way and while he may just be 16, he knew exactly what he was saying. She's always smuggling him money (something that is a trigger for his condition and causes restlessness and irritation) and part of the problem today was he just HAD to spend the money she'd given him the night before. She kept trying to interrupt and I was so tired of being made to feel insignificant and overreactive. Not to mention, the pain literally had it's very own pulse in my body by that time. I ended the conversation firmly (because, God forbid, we don't smooth everything out so that I'm the nutjob) and called a cab to take my son over to their house.
Things have calmed down by now. My son's at my parents - petitioning for a foster home for the love of God. No half-ways with him! I've calmed down enough to probably stay out of the ER tonight. Believe me, I thought the psych ward might be a welcome change for me this time! I'm tired of trying to work magic when there just ain't none left. I just needed to get this all out of my head because no matter what, I feel guilty. I feel guilty because couldn't pop out and scoop the driveway in the ten minutes it used to take. I feel guilty because I totally went off on my son who has never had that happen to him (from me anyway) in his life. And I feel guilty because I have NO intention of picking him up tomorrow. Saturday, maybe, but not tomorrow. I can't. I'm not strong enough. My mom wants me to call his dad to come get him for awhile. This is a man who hasn't seen my son in nearly ten years, smokes pot like cigarettes, gave him wine at the age of 8 and allowed him to be molested by an older child over the period of two years. Yeah, that will definitely give me the restful break I need! Needless to say, there are countless alternatives before that one.
Thanks for making the space for this tonight. If I didn't write it, I would've screamed it and my chest hurts enough.
Take care all. Susan